I love my personal mikveh / water purification, guided by my mind and Hashem's heavenly rains. Baruch Hashem, to receive G*d's geshem, prayed for at Sukkot. We have been in drought for so long, and need the rains; we are finally blessed in the Valley, in LA.
"May the rains be gishmei bracha - rains of blessing ," says my rebbe.
May every drop of rain that falls, be a blesSing for my friends in need of healing, say I.
So it is not too frequently that I get to have my own personal rain ritual. In my 'birthday suit', on the cold and wet holy ground of my quiet garden, I remove my shoes. I stand upright receiving the gift of G*d as the rain released from Heaven comes down to me, falling on me. Is G*d facing me? I open my arms, liberating them, raising them, so that I am not covering myself, but opening myself to You. In praise, my drippy hands reach out and high.
I feel connection to You, Hashem, geshem giver of moisture-- life so basically and badly needed, and missed.
I feel the rain on my body, my bare skin, my back as I bend / berech over to a braycha / a pool, to receive more of the drops / bruchas, both sides, my chest, my bosom, my back, my head, my neck, my face, my arms, legs, and I turn. My own seasonal circle dance and You are in the center. I imagine myself submerged in mikveh, and I make a Brucha. I don't need the "fiction" plug released to give me frozen to melted water that has been captured, halachically by rules. My organic natural mikveh is spiritually pure with kavannah / intention, and mayim chayim / living waters straight from the Source of BlesSings. I open my mouth and drink Your cool rain. I feel You on my body. I am grateful for our direct connection.
Thank you Divine One of water Who cleanses each of us and our world.
I have been paying much attention to Your delicious cloud formations this last week; sometimes filled with countless small cute puffs, white fluff, floating in stillness. Separate ones, each one close up, over my head, and creative formation like shooting fire works. Clouds concentrated in the distance. If I am in the distance, do the clouds still appear closely concentrated?
My rabbi one early morning called my attention to the soft wispy white palette against firm blue sky of G*d. Clouds like yesterday, are sometimes heavy and dark gloomy grey and hovering low over mountains. I share in appreciation with a neighbor, the clouds so artistic and delightful, giving me great pleasure as I watch them still or moving, gliding, sometimes a blanket of surprises. They truly make for colorful sunrises filled with shades of fuscia and hues of blues, as the rising sun radiates brilliant light off the edges of the early morning dark clouds.
Thank you for cleaning with Your love sent from above, my husband, Marcel's, z'l, matzeivah / his grave stone, while I was visiting yesterday. Last week for his Hebrew yahrzeit, the granite stone was dull, and yesterday the engraved orange-red colored granite looked so shiny and lovely on Marcel's secular 4th yahrzeit.
I, too, am shiny and new birthed with your wet love. I guess with shmutz gone, I, too, can be read more easily.
My very first this season and only little delicate yellow daffodil, just one day old, is bent down facing parallel to the ground now with the weight of Your water. Do I leave my daffodil there plundered to the earth or rescue and cut it from the garden and bring it inside to save it in a vase of water? The garden is its home, its Makom. I've gone out, lifted and seen the daffodil's dirty face, and shaken the drops away but more come. My daffodil in our garden can not straighten up and drops lower down. It saddens me.
I will do serious gardening for Tu B'Shvat; with Your gentle rains making transplanting easier. I will joyously share my purple bearded iris tubers, easier now to remove their firm roots from the earth to make for a friend, a new 'garden of joy'. I will more easily transplant fig trees I have planted in prior years, sharing them with friends.
Thank You for my mikveh, a blesSing. I sing Your song.
Please G*d, don't let others suffer from the rains. There is such danger, especially after the fires.
Is it raining because only a week ago I used my "rain sticks" in retreat, during my Sounds of Joy ~ Sound Spa meditation? My rain sticks are magical.
I believe in the 'Secret', and the Law of Attraction, that we receive from You what we ask for from You.
Yes, I rescued Your lonely daffodil before the sky spit, hurling heavy hail, lumps of pea sized ice. Hail didn't even melt as I held them. When the drops stopped, she was bent even lower, so I carefully cut her stem, brought her inside and gently washed off the earth's dirt from her golden face. She's now not alone, and upright with the snap dragons, and for days shares her sweet fragrance and smiling golden daffodil face.
"I wandered lonely as a cloud, that sat on high o'er vales and hills, when all at once I saw a crowd, a host of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, fluttering and dancing in the breeze..."
- by William Wordsworth.
I learned this daffodil poem as a child. In prior years, as on this cloudy, rainy, sunless morning, my bright cheery yellow daffodiles were also sadly bent over from the weight of the rain.
I have planted dozens of daffodils on Tu B'Shvat. As "my heart with pleasure fills", I am dancing with Your daffodils.
What treasures the Source of All BlesSings gifts us in our garden of life.
And while I have done this, rescuing a single flower, world-wide rescuers are working in Haiti to try to save the countless victims of the earthquake.
Dear Compassionate One, bless them.