Okay, we're not experiencing a drought. We as in the greater global community, that is. So far as I know, especially after all the flooding a few weeks ago (global warming!?). I'm talking personal drought. Spiritual drought. People always tell me that they're mind-blown about my attitude toward being Jewish and toward Judaism. I'll admit, I do get kinda overly stoked 99 percent of the time about everything related to being Jewish and living Jewishly. I can't help it. My neshama is perpetually on fire. But then there's that 1 percent of the time (I'll admit, it's probably greater than that), where I just feel, well, droughty.
Now, as it seems, is one of those times.
I'm guessing it's largely because I haven't stepped foot in a synagogue in a month. We've had Shabbats in the Poconos and Manchester and then those days in Florida. We'd hoped to be in the community for this past Shabbat and the last two days of the chag but as it turns out, my body didn't agree with Passover this year. First it was a stomach ache, and then it was a day of dizziness that started off with me falling over after getting out of bed. The weekend continued with the stomach ache, me popping pills and sleeping a ton. I went out and bought more vegetables, thinking that the more produce I consumed the less my body would reject the matzo that was in everything (if it wasn't matzo, it was farfel or matzo meal). But it didn't let up. I didn't sleep Sunday night or last night. I got up today and ate breakfast, subsequently crawling back into bed for three hours. Then, today, mid-meal my face got warm and flushed and after looking in the mirror I realized the left side of my face was bright red.
It was Passover and a girl couldn't catch a break.
I'll admit I feel better after going out and buying some Honey Kix, yogurt, Arnold's flats, and beans and corn for a proposed Crockpot Mexican Chicken. My face is still warm, but less red. My stomach has calmed a bit, but not enough that I feel comfortable sleeping.
I know, I know. I'm kvetching, a lot. But I feel like I have to force myself into synagogue this weekend, no matter how I feel, so I can feel more myself. I don't know if synagogue will do it or if I throw myself back into my academic work (there's less than a month left and I'm freaking out) I'll suddenly feel more plugged in.
The long and short of it is that there's no shame in feeling drought-worthy. Not in my book anyway. No one can be 100 percent on with HaShem all the time; in fact, if you do, then something's wrong. You're not battling and conversing and questioning enough. Sitting back and taking stock of where you're at is part of the game, no matter what religion to which you belong. If everything always feels right, you're setting yourself up for a complete crash. A brick wall. A loss in something grand.
Anyhow. I'm praying that getting some regular dairy and bread back in my system will help me not feel like World War III is rocking my body. Not sleeping, waiting for everything you eat to make you sick, these aren't fun. They're keeping me from my community.
I need a good, serious daven. A private moment with HaShem in the arms of the community.