“Keter” means “crown” in Hebrew and is the name of a new studio in New Jersey, writes Aviva Melissa Frank.

For those seeking female only yoga classes a new studio has opened in West Orange, NJ. Keter Yoga, is a women’s only studio offering daily classes, except on Fridays and Shabbat, in asana (poses), pranyama (breath) and meditation. Jacki Routhenstein, founder and teacher, has a background in reiki, ayurvedic medicine and sound healing and incorporates these modalities and aspects into her private and semi-private classes.

Many women prefer to practice yoga with only other women. This could be for religious or modesty reasons, female empowerment reasons or that classes are slightly catered more to the x chromosome audience. This phenomenon has been seen across the fitness and wellness spectrum, from female only gyms (Curves) to female only 5ks and half- marathons (Divas).

http://www.keteryoga.com/about.html
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http://jewishlinknj.com/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=6958:womens-only-yoga-studio-opens-in-west-orange&catid=160:business-spotlight&Itemid=572

By Reisha Golden

The more I read the more I see how the relationships are endless. I will try and share with you my journey and give you ideas to bring into your yoga classes.

Yoga means bringing together or Unity – how does this relate to Judaism? In Judaism unity is translated into Yichud or Yechidah – the bringing together of that which is transcendent (beyond time and space) into that which is immanent (within time and space). In yoga, the unity we refer to is mind – body connection, or soul-body connection.

We just began our New Year. With the New Year, we went through a period of Teshuvah or return or repentence, or looking for answers to our deeper selves. I see Teshuvah as a time to return to the soul, to who we are at our deepest level. I took this time to look at my life and to throw out what is not true to me and to keep or find what rings true to my deepest self. Teshuvah has the same root as Shabbat. This was my yearly Shabbat of resting and returning.

Yom Kippur or the Day of AtOneMent brings us to another level of the soul; the highest level, where we sense the Unity in creation – the level of Yechidah – Oneness. And how do we achieve this Oneness? Yom Kippur is considered the Shabbat of Shabbatot, yet we don’t eat or drink. On Yom Kippur, we fast and therefore we are asked to nurture ourselves spiritually. We come ready on Yom Kippur: we have done our work of Teshuvah and mended our relationships with ourselves, with our friends and family, and with our community to the best of our ability. On Yom Kippur we ask God for guidance on how to maintain that sense of Oneness we have worked towards in ourselves and with others. On Yom Kippur we acknowledge our co-partnership with God in achieving our goals, we experience our interdependence and the unity of creation.
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In yoga we refer to our energy centers as chakras. In Judaism, we have the sefirot based on the Tree of Life. Succot or the Festival of Booths is about experiencing the Divine presence on Earth. The Israelites traveled through the desert with clouds of God’s glory surrounding them. The clouds represent God’s presence on Earth or the Shekhina. Today we build a Succah. The sefira of Malchut (kingdom) or the Root chakra can best be represented here. In Judaism we can think of the upper sefirot or the divine emanations flowing their energy into the Divine presence on Earth or Malchut. What does this mean? Let us in our temporary dwelling (our Succah) or stay on Earth (this lifetime) spend a moment to perceive God’s Oneness through noticing the wonders of the world all around us.

A few years ago, freshly moved to Los Angeles, I started practicing yoga. I was feeling anxious and worried, and if I were still a New Yorker, I’d have gone on anti-depressants. But I’m a big believer in doing what the Romans do, and, as it turned out, yoga helped a lot. Now, in class, as I take my first bow—a stretch upward, followed by an open-armed dive to my toes—I am no longer thinking about survival. Instead, with room to breathe and think, I instead wonder about the implications of bowing, of doing yoga in the first place. Yoga, with its meditation, with its mysterious secrets and ties to Hinduism and Buddhism, isn’t just a physiological practice; it’s a spiritual one. And I am a Modern Orthodox Jew. By practicing yoga, I’m now forced to wonder, am I practicing a religion outside my own? Am I sinning before God?

When I first took up yoga, this question never occurred to me. I was dealing with a difficult time, but I had also abandoned my religious upbringing. I was at peace with a secular life that included some high-holiday observance and crippling guilt when I didn’t observe Passover. Now, married to a man who converted so that we could be together, I find myself running an Orthodox home. (You know the old joke: don’t date a non-Jew unless you want to end up really religious.) I’m surprisingly happy in my lifestyle, but I’m also realizing that a true immersion in yogic practice may very well be a violation of my Jewish one.

There is a statue of Ganesh, the Hindu diety, in the yoga studio I attend. At the end of the class, my instructor says, “Namaste,” and bows toward the class. In turn, we bow back. I am bowing toward the teacher, but also toward the statue. Namaste means, “The Divine in me salutes the Divine in you.” During many of the meditation sessions, we are asked to put our hands in “prayer position,” which is what it sounds like: hands joined together at the heart. The more I thought about it, the more I worried that yoga might be its own religion, and that I might be committing a sin—worshipping an idol, even—by practicing it.

This might seem like a niggling question of minutia, but Judaism, especially Orthodox Judaism, is a religion filled with niggling questions of minutiae—how an animal is slaughtered, at what angle, exactly, a mezuzah should be affixed to a door post. There are serious implications to committing idolatry, whether you do so accidentally or not. In the Talmud (Sanhedrin 74), it states that there are only three sins in which a person is commanded to die rather than commit the sin: the second and third are incest and murder. The first is idolatry.

That was the Lubavitch rebbe’s rationale when, in 1977, he forbade his followers from practicing yoga, transcendental meditation, and the like. “In as much as these movements involve certain rites and rituals, they have been rightly regarded by Rabbinic authorities as cults bordering on, and in some respects actual, avodah zarah,” he wrote, using the Hebrew term for idolatry. “Accordingly Rabbinic authorities everywhere…ruled that these cults come under all the strictures associated with avodah zarah, so that also their appurtenances come under strict prohibition.”

But, of course, I’m not a Lubavitcher. So I asked my yoga teacher at City Yoga in West Hollywood, Linda Eifer, a Conservative Jew, what she thought. “Yoga is not a religion,” she said, emphatically. “It’s a spiritual practice that combines the body, the mind, and the spirit. It’s based on an ancient Indian tradition that includes inspiration from statues, which are a mythology that combine human and divine characteristics.” But, aside from the statues, that’s pretty much what my religion is to me.

David Adelson, a Reform rabbi in New York who is enrolled at the Institute for Jewish Spirituality, a two-year program that includes yoga retreats and text study, offered a distinction. “If I’m in a church around Christmastime, I sing and even say ‘Jesus’ in the hymns. I know that I am just singing because I like singing, and in no way praying, so it doesn’t worry me,” he said. “Yoga feels just a bit dicier because I am a full participant in the experience, not an observer. But I believe in general that to constitute avodah zarah, you probably need some kavana,” or intention.

Kavana is an interesting thing. Intuitively, it would seem that a religion demanding absolute morality would be concerned with intention. But, actually, that’s not really the case. If you eat bread on Passover, even accidentally, you have sinned. If you give charity but grudgingly, the charity still counts for the good. On Yom Kippur, we repent for sins we didn’t even know we did. And then there are Hannah’s sons—seven Jews who chose to die rather than bow to Antiochus, the Greek ruler who tried to forcibly convert Jews in 167 BCE. Bowing but not meaning it wasn’t an option. Judaism is concerned not just with your actions but also very much with how your actions appear to others. Bowing is the physical manifestation of idolatry, whatever your intention. “Do not make idols or set up an image or a sacred stone for yourselves,” says Leviticus 26:1, “and do not place a carved stone in your land to bow down before it.”

But let’s ignore that for a second, and accept Adelson’s argument that intention does matter. Even so, don’t I intentionally practice yoga? And while Eifer, my yoga teacher, had said she doesn’t find yoga incompatible with Judaism because her status as a Jew isn’t compromised by her practice of yoga, I have a more literal view of Judaism and what it expects from me. I believe that I’m supposed to practice only Judaism. I don’t believe the practice of another religion makes me an adherent of that religion, but I do believe that I choose to only practice Judaism. The rituals and chanting that was expected of me in yoga seem like another religion to me—and practicing another religion is practicing another religion.

But Srinivasan, the senior teacher at the worldwide Shivananda Yoga Vedanta Centers, says I have it backwards. “Yoga is not a religion, but a science of religion,” he explained. “It applies to all religions. It’s not that yoga comes from Hinduism. Hinduism originates in yoga. Buddhism comes from yoga, too.” Srinivasan doesn’t see how spiritual yoga practice and Judaism are incompatible. “Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach used to come to our Ashrams,” he said. “He understood we were talking about the same thing. Hasidic mysticism and Kabbalah are very much in line with yogic thought.”

I explain to Srinivasan that the approach may be similar—even some of the text and ideas may be similar—but that only proves my point that yoga is a religion. “There is yoga in every religion,” he responded. “Yoga means ‘union’ or ‘absolute consciousness’ with God. Don’t look at the differences; look at the similarities. Yoga is beyond words or institution. When you use the word ‘religion,’ people want to know what books you read, what language you speak.” He also says that though some sects of yoga won’t even use the word God, the tradition is similar to monotheism. “We’re all talking about the same God,” he said. To him, the statue of Ganesh at the front of many yoga studios is the same God to whom Jews pray. “Don’t confuse the map for the actual place,” he said. “God is everywhere. There is no conflict here. There is respect for that diversity. To explain God is to limit God.”

So could I just be bowing in front of this statue without bowing to the statue? I asked Pinchas Giller, an Orthodox rabbi who practices yoga at the same studio I do. “Many Hindus argue these days that their deities are just archetypal principles,” says Giller. “But any third-grader in Hebrew school will tell you that those are idols. Veneration and offerings are unacceptable. I avoid classes where the teacher is too into the mythos. It’s hard to escape the impression that if you take some of the practices too seriously then it could be avodah zarah.” Giller practices yoga for the exercise and only for the exercise, he’s careful to say.

Chanah Forster, a Hasid and yoga teacher in Brooklyn, may have found a solution. “Yoga absolutely is a religion,” she says. Before she became religious, Forster lived on an ashram, where she became certified to teach yoga. She still teaches it, but with an approach tailored to her current audience. There is no chanting in her class—not even Om, the vibrational sound recited at the start of most yoga classes. She describes poses, but won’t use their traditional Sanskrit names. She also won’t say their English translations, like Downward-Facing Dog. “Instead, I’ll say to raise your hips to the ceiling,” she explained to me. “The Sanskrit names have a spiritual meaning. If you don’t call these poses by their Sanskrit names, it’s just exercise.” Forster believes that when you do any of these things—chant, say Om, speak in Sanskrit—you are opening yourself up spiritually to outside influences. “These aren’t just words,” she said. “They have meanings and repercussions to your neshama”—your soul—“and they are at odds with Jewish spirituality.”

But despite all these things at odds with Judaism, yoga seems to have a strong pull on Jews. In the past few years, several yoga minyans, prayer services in which yoga stretches accompany liturgy, have gotten underway. At least half of the people who frequent my yoga studio, as well as many of its teachers, are Jewish. India is a hotbed of Israeli tourism and the great Hindu leader Ram Dass was born Richard Alpert, a nice Jewish boy. (The author Rodger Kamenetz wrote a whole book, The Jew in the Lotus, about Jews struggling to understand and relate to Eastern spirituality.) But though unresolved, it’s a debate that’s new to me and that has new urgency for me as I’ve returned to religious observance.) The Kabbalistic viewpoint asserts that we are born with a pintele yid, a Jewish spark always searching for spirituality. If you live in America in 2010, your pintele yid may be a little malnourished, and whether because of assimilation or a lack of Jewish practice, some Jews seek to feed this hunger outside of the synagogue.

And the question of yoga’s compatibility with Judaism might just be an unanswerable one. In Adelson’s Reform world, it’s the Jew’s intention that matters. But in the Judaism I know, the one I have chosen to participate in, intentions, or even wishes, are not the only things to consider. My Judaism is a Judaism that is preoccupied with my physical life as much as my spiritual one. It has laws for when I eat, what wear, how I wash my hands. The problem isn’t what yoga might ask me to think or believe; it’s what it asks me to do. And despite my physical flexibility—you should see my frog pose—I don’t have the same spiritual agility.
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Further practice of Judaism has not, historically, helped me become more open-minded. But perhaps that is where yoga can be an asset, not a detriment, to my religious practice. Yes, yoga walks a fine line (verboten to some; certainly not to all). But maybe my uptight approach to religion requires yoga and its nuances of illicit practice to help me remain flexible in my spirit, as well as my body. Maybe having something that isn’t so easy to reconcile, a gray area, is good for me.

YOGA AND JUDAISM CENTER
Email [email protected]
Blog Yajcenter.blogspot.com


By Steven J. Gold


I have written other articles about Jewish Yoga Meditation and Hebrew Mantras. They made many suggestions for the practitioner to experiment with concerning various mantras. In addition to the foundational mantras involving the Tetragrammaton, the Shema, and the Amidah, over the years of experimentation, another mantra has emerged as particularly potent in my own experience and in the experience of many who have been introduced to this specific mantra through my teaching sessions, Adonai Hineni. I have come to focus on it whenever I am introducing Hebrew mantras to new students. In order to highlight its significance, I am writing this new article to provide it the proper emphasis it is due, so that more people will hopefully be exposed to it and utilize it in their personal meditation practice.


The term “Adonai” (sometimes transliterated as “Adonoi”, phonetically pronounced “Ah-Doh-Noy”) has a particular significance as found in the Torah. Up until its first appearance, the terms utilized in referencing God, such as Elohim, YHVH (the Tetragrammaton), and El Shaddai, were terms spoken directly by God as the omniscient narrator of the Torah (or, from another perspective, through the agency/narration of Moses). “Adonai” is somewhat unique, because it is uttered not directly from God, but through man (Abraham) in addressing/calling out to God (Genesis 15:2). It is usually translated as “Lord”, as acknowledgement of an ultimate power existing that is much greater than the individual mortal self.


“Hineni” (sometimes transliterated as “Hinani”, phonetically pronounced “Hee-Nay-Nee”), likewise first appears in the Torah as spoken by man/Abraham, this time in responding to God’s call (Genesis 22:1). The last time it appears in the Torah is during the event when Moses encounters the burning bush on Mt. Sinai. When the voice of God calls out to Moses, his response is, “Hineni” (Exodus 3:4). It is translated as “Here I am”, or “I am here.”, but the commentary on the inner meaning of this response is very significant. This is not the common separative “I/self” asserting itself and indicating physical location, but rather the humble vestige of a separative self responding in awe to the greatness of the Almighty which it is beholding, and offering up itself in complete submission and service. “I am at your service”, would be a more correct translation capturing the inner meaning of the literal translation. Like Abraham’s earlier addressing God as “Adonai”, here again is an utterance of great servants of God in response to God’s call to them. (Other uses found in the Torah convey similar meanings).


What has felt right for me is to utilize the two words, “Adonai” and “Hineni” in conjunction and in coordination with the breath: “Adonai” is silently intoned internally, coordinated with the inhalation (breathing in the Divine essence/life force offered by God) and “Hineni” is silently intoned internally, coordinated with the exhalation (extending back to God what we can offer in humble service, in return, with profound gratitude). I have found it to be very powerful, as have many other people to whom I have introduced it.


There is a correlation of this mantra to a primary breath-coordinated mantra from my yoga tradition, the “so-hum” mantra, also sometimes referred to as the “hamsa” mantra (reversing the ordering of the syllables). “So” is silently intoned internally, coordinated with the inhalation, and “hum” is silently intoned internally, coordinated with the exhalation. “So-Hum” is generally translated as “I am That”, or “That I am”, with “So” meaning “That” and “Hum” meaning “I”. The general import is similar to “Adonai Hineni”, as what is perceived as God separate from the small self, “That”, is taken in, while what is perceived as the small separate self, “I” is offered out, acknowledging the deeper merging of the two as “I am That”. The reverse ordering of these two syllables creates the word “hamsa”, which means “swan”, a Vedic symbol of the ability of the mind to discriminate the unreal from the real, to come to the realization that what appears separate as “That-So” and “I-Hum” are in fact connected and not separated. It is similar to the concept of Martin Buber of transforming “I-It” to “I-Thou”. However, traditional Jewish notions maintain that one can never fully merge identity with the One, but can only become closely united/clinging, similar to the bhakti perspective in yoga (the path of devotion and praise) while the teachings of Vedanta maintain that the individual identity can fully merge with the One (which can also be found in the kabalist conception of yichud/unity).

I have been asked about authentic, authoritative sources, from real Kabala, not “New Age” stuff, for Hebrew Mantras.

Concerning Hebrew Mantras, as far as authenticity goes, that is always a tricky question. Most of the Jewish Meditation teachers and techniques that I have read about and studied with basically use various prayers or phrases from traditional Jewish liturgy or sources, especially prayers or phrases that originated in the Torah, and employ them as mantras in the same way that yoga utilizes mantras. I have never heard of any reference to an authentic, authoritative source or text that specifically identifies Hebrew mantras and provides instructions as the how to utilize them. I believe this was always left for direct oral instruction and transmission, and self-discovery and experimentation.

In my book, Yoga and Judaism, I have a chapter on Jewish Yoga Meditation. The Layer One practice in my book basically starts with a traditional yoga meditation and replaces a common mantra, sometimes designated as The Universal Mantra, “So-hum” with “Yod-Heh, Vav-Heh”, the tetragrammaton, which is the most central designation for God in Judaism. I learned this directly from a husband and wife Rabbi team, Phyllis Berman and Arthur Waskow, and they assured me that this was not a “New Age” invention, but rather there was traditional authority for this practice. The Layer Two and Layer Three practices I describe in the book build upon this, and as explained, are based upon a peculiar oral tradition (Talmudic) notation for the pronunciation of the tetragrammaton as used in Genesis 15:2, combining the consonants of YHVH with the vowels of Elohim. However, it is strictly my insight/revelation, which I have not yet found substantiated in any authority, to apply it in the way I describe in my book. But it is quite obvious to me that was its intention. I have found only this one rendition in the entire Torah, and no other usages in any of the other Jewish scriptures (although I haven’t read them all, yet) other than King David utilizing it a few times in Psalms.

The Repetitive Phrase Practice I describe in my book utilizes what in yoga is called a “japa” technique (fast repetition), applying it to the most central prayer in all of Jewish liturgy, the Shema, which is derived directly from the Torah. I don’t think that I have seen any authentic authority to support this specific practice, although there is authority to support comparable practices, and there is actually some authority that discourages such types of fast repetition techniques. However, I have found this to be a very potent practice, and I am quite convinced of its efficacy. What many people don’t realize is that the Shema prayer technically includes not only these one or two lines, but three other paragraphs that follow it, the first paragraph certainly being the most well-known, beginning with the phrase referenced by Jesus when asked to summarize the most important of the commandments, that you should “love God will all thy heart, with all thy soul, and with all thy mind/might”. The other most central prayer in Judaism created later on, but with some phrases from the Torah, is known as the Shimoneh Esray (meaning “The Eighteen”, as there were originally 18 blessings in it, although a 19th controversial one was later added, also called The Amida (meaning “The Standing”, as you are to recite it standing up. My interpretation is that it is to be recited with the body erect, as in a seated meditation posture, and not necessarily as standing up on your feet). It includes the well-known “priestly blessing”, which is in the Torah. I include the Shema, its first paragraph, and an abbreviated form of the Amida in my daily Jewish Yoga meditation practice.

There is a tradition in Judaism called “Midrash”, which allows for students and scholars with insights to place their own spins and interpretations on the main authoritative texts. These midrash, affirmed and repeated over time, then become recognized as their own authority. The Zohar, one of the principle Kabbalistic texts, is actually in the form of a midrash/commentary on the Torah, although its author is still disputed (it is narrowed down to one of two people by most scholars). The Bahir and Sefer Yetzirah are two of the other principle Kabbalistic texts, and no-one is certain of their authorship. An argument among some quarters is being made that the process of midrash must remain alive with current practitioners in order for the tradition to remain alive, dynamic and vital, and as such, anyone can create midrash. If you want to consider that as “New Age”, you can, but I think it is vital that current students, even this writer, be allowed to voice our own insights and revelations. One of the criticisms of Jewish scholarship over the centuries is that many of the midrash were more intellectual gymnastics/sophistry rather than expressing any real experiential insights. The practices I describe originate in authentic tradition, but then are extrapolated from those traditions, both Jewish and yogic, tweaking certain practices. They are based not on my intellectual imaginings, but rather on intuitive and experiential insights and practices.

So you can see why I say that authenticity is a tricky question.

For anyone interested in Jewish Meditation and utilizing Hebrew mantras in their meditation practice, I would suggest that you experiment with some of the practices I describe in my book, and then study a traditional Jewish prayer book and the Jewish Bible for prayers, blessings or phrases that particularly resonate with you, and try using them as mantras. Besides the Five Books of Moses (the Torah proper), phrases from Psalms and the Song of Songs have been of particular inspiration to many people.

Although it is a favored practice of mine, as described in my book, I know that there are issues about utilizing the Tetragrammaton or approximations of it in any way, as there are long-held traditions and beliefs that either the correct pronunciation is no longer known, and even if known, should not be spoken or even thought because it would be using the name of the Lord in vain. My childhood rabbi, who was Modern Orthodox and pretty straight-laced, told me that the correct pronunciation is known, but is just a well-kept secret for advanced students only. The Jewish Renewal take, upon which my suggested usage is based, is that it can’t really be “spoken” out loud or even internally as a word, because it really isn’t a word in the common sense and doesn’t have vowels, because it is the sound of the breath. You could also say it is the Word as described in the gospel of John, which is of course, like all early “Christian” writings, based upon Jewish belief and practice: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” The idea is just to internally intone/coordinate the approximation of the sound of YH on inhalation and VH on exhalation, and really to then just let the breath do the work. One of my favorite quotes of my yoga meditation mentor, Swami Rama, from his book “The Art of Joyful Living”, is a rare section where he actually talks about his practice. He says he doesn’t mess around with all of the preliminaries he teaches his students, he just gets right into turning his inner being into an internal “ear” by which he listens to his mantra, which is already there of its own accord, so he really isn’t “doing” his mantra, he is just listening to it, as it has an internal life of its own. This is what in yoga is called “ajapa japa”, whereby the rapid repetition is not initiated or maintained by any effort of the practitioner, but rather it takes on this life of its own, whereby the practitioner is placed more in the role of a listener/receiver. This is consistent with Jewish teachings as the term “Kabala” comes from the root word meaning “to receive”, and “Shema” means “Hear”. The beauty of these breath-coordinated practices are that they are aligning their sounds with the breath, and letting the breath become the sounds of its own accord. So you could say that this practice is not “speaking” or even “thinking” the word, either externally or internally, not even as a thought. It is something beyond and deeper than thought. It is alignment with life force and its source.

Consonants do have sounds even without formal vowels accompanying them: Y = Yeh or Yuh; H = Heh or Huh; V = Veh or Vah. Also, they can be sounded by the names of their letters Y = Yod or Yud; H = Heh; V = Vav or Vuv. My yoga tradition encourages exploration, so the whole idea is for the practitioner to go with the suggestion and experiment with it and see what feels right. Perhaps it is time to overcome and explore resistance due to childhood restrictions and taboos. All mantras ultimately lead to silence, but on the surface level there is sound, and it becomes more subtle as it is aligned with the breath and becomes the sound of the breath.

However, for those who remain uncomfortable employing anything related to the Tetragrammaton as a mantra, there are other biblical names/designations for God in the Jewish tradition that might be suitable: “Adonai” is the first name used by man/Abraham in addressing God. “El Shaddai” is another common potent designation, and also contains a feminine aspect, as it shares the same root as the word for “breast”, suggesting nurturance. When Moses asked God whom should he say had sent him to the slaves in Egypt, God responded, “Tell them ‘Ehyeh Asher Ehyeh’ sent you, which is generally translated as “I Am That I AM”, but also has the timeless connotation of simultaneously being “I was, I am, and I will be”. A similar designation is “Hayah Hoveh V’ehyeh”, which means “I was, I am, and I will be.”. Yet another simple designation that is currently in favor with the Jewish Renewal movement is the simple “Yah”, meaning “I am”. A female connotation roughly similar to Kundalini Shakti in the yoga tradition is “Shechinah” (with the accent on the second syllable. This is defined as the aspect of God’s presence in the world. It was the Shechinah that communicated with Moses and the High Priests from the Ark. When the Torah speaks of creating a dwelling for God’s presence to dwell among us, it is the Shechinah that is to be doing the dwelling. It is definitely a feminine noun. There is also the idea that a suitable “dwelling” for God’s presence was not only meant to be the Ark and the Tabernacle, but rather the human body, as the human body is also designated as a Temple, and the actual Temple building is seen as a depiction/representation of the human body and vice-versa). Other possibilities might include the Hebrew term for Israel, “Yisrael”, “Baruch”, “Atah”, or any other of a number of blessings or prayers.

There is also a lesser-known designation for God steeped with mystical mystery which might be suitable for use as a mantra: “Emesh”. According to Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan, an incredible modern (but unfortunately, deceased) mystical orthodox scholar, in his commentary on the Sefer Yetzirah, this word is composed of the three “Mother” letters of Aleph, Mem and Shin, and represents all kinds of things, including a reference to the Ein/Ayin/Void underlying all of existence (similar to Brahman in the yoga tradition and shunyata in Buddhism), a reconciliation of opposites, the mystery to master fire, and is used in the Torah and other Jewish scripture, often translated as the dark gloom of night, suggestive of the time of deep dreamless sleep, of the deepest recesses of the unconscious.

During the event when Moses encounters the burning bush on Mt. Sinai, when the voice of God calls out to Moses, his response is, “Hinani” (phonetically, “Hee-Nay-Nee”). This is translated as “Here I am”, or “I am here.”, but the commentary on the inner meaning of this response is very significant. This is not the common separative “I/self” asserting itself and indicating physical location, but rather the humble vestige of a separative self responding in awe to the greatness of the Almighty which it is beholding, and offering up itself in complete submission and service. “I am at your service”, would be a more correct translation capturing the inner meaning of the literal translation. Like Abraham’s earlier responding to God by addressing God as “Adonai”, here again is an utterance of another great servant of God in response to God’s call to him. So I believe that “Hinani” would be another suitable term to use as a Hebrew mantra. I have utilized “Adonai Hinani” in conjunction – with “Adonai” on inhalation (breathing in the Divine essence offered by God) and “Hinani” on exhalation (extending back to God what we can offer) – and I have found it to be very powerful.

And finally, in my book, I list the Thirteen Attributes of Mercy of God as found in Exodus 34:6,7 which were revealed by God to Moses during an extraordinary event on Mt. Sinai. One or more of them might also be appealing to some as Hebrew mantras.

Steven J Gold –

Frustrated by not finding a Jewish community that fit her needs, Jo Borkan thought about leaving Portland for another city. Instead, she co- created Havdallah* Yoga with Yael Podebski. Havdallah Yoga is a monthly yoga class that is for Rosh Hodesh** and marks the end of Shabbat.

In 2011 the Jewish Federation of Portland found there were twice as many Jews living in Portland than previously thought. The increase in numbers was due to unaffiliated synagogue Jews and those living on the Eastside.

The grassroots movement of find your own Judaism and spirituality has been on the rise across the US. Organizations such as Birthright Israel NEXT Shabbat and Moishe House Without Borders have been facilitating and funding DIY Judaism for young adults. For the over 35 crowd, no funding or support currently exists.

* Havdallah is the ceremony separating Shabbat from the rest of the week,
** Rosh Hodesh is the ‘rosh’ or head/start of the new Jewish month.
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http://www.oregonlive.com/faith/2015/03/jewish_yoga_alternative_judais.html
http://forward.com/articles/216058/portland-finds-trendy-new-jewish-world-in-the-east/

The Parsha or Torah portion for this week focuses on the glory of the mishkan  (tabernacle) a portable sacred place where the children of Israel could come to atone for sins, pray, celebrate, sing and be in gratitude. G-d asked such a place be built for his presence to dwell, to be a home for the Shechinah or divine feminine sparks. The children of Israel excitedly donated many objects for the creation of this sacred space. Materials and wares collected from their Egyptian neighbors upon their departure out of slavery, mirrors used by the women to beautify themselves for the wash basin and even acacia trees planted by Jacob hundreds of years prior. The anticipation for this sacred moment had been far in advance, materials of great value were donated and the thrill of a place of beauty to hold the divine pulsated through camp. Gratitude was immense. Abundance overflowed. Greed was in full force! Greed?

The Sutras speak of non-attachment, for both the positive and the negative: We should not be attached to our success or averse to our suffering. Both shall change. Instead we are to find ourselves as vessels, to allow the universe or divine to flow through us, to be in harmony with the present and our present situation, good or bad.  The Torah and Kabbalah focuses on this concept of non-attachment as well. Abundance comes from the divine and is not ours to own or become attached. Tzedek (jusice) or Tzedekah (charity) is sharing of these gifts from the divine awarded through us as vessels, to the rest of the community. Since we do not own our abundance, we cannot get attached to our happiness or sadness, for it is constant motion and change, and does not belong to us. As King Solomon’s famous ring read: This Too Shall Pass.*  The hard emotional work of non-attachment in fact leads to total surrender and thus total freedom. We learn to avoid the emotional roller coaster of our ups and downs of happiness and sadness, of successes and suffering. We instead earn and learn to be totally and completely in the present moment.
​
Now contrast this with desire: I desire beauty.

Judaism asks that we beautify our mitzvot or connections to G-d, and does not this beautification require attachment and money? In addition, my yoga practice requires money, yoga clothes, mats and classes require money, and I want the best for my practice. I like to beautify my yoga practice. How can I have greed and gratitude?  Is it possible? How should I celebrate and indulge in the upcoming Jewish holiday of Purim without greed? There is the Purim Suedah (feast), costumes, Mishloach Manot (gift baskets), synagogue costs, charity to be given and much more associated with this wonderful holiday. How do I give and receive in beauty? How do I give and receive in gratitude? How do I give and receive to become a dwelling place for the divine, to be that vessel for the divine to flow through me? Can I bring beauty to my greed? Just as the children of Israel were asked to beautify a dwelling place for their practice of gratitude to the divine in the desert, creating an external physical place as a mirror for the internal physical place they creating within their minds, bodies and souls so too can we carve spaces of gratitude in our lives built on the beauty of being in the present moment and not controlling it. Yoga too celebrates the gratitude and the beauty of the unity (yoga means unity) of the world and the divine within each of us. We become that beautiful dwelling place of gratitude.

Question: I am the beautiful dwelling. I desire beauty and money. I am in gratitude. How do I reconcile this greed-I-tude?

Yoga Pose: This week in your baby cobra pose, try to lift your chest 2 inches higher than usual. Hold for nine breaths. Notice how this uplifting opens your heart space as well as puffs your chest up and out. Take note of the rush of love, grace

and pride. Notice the contradiction and the actual needed weaving of these seemingly opposite qualities as you lie on your mat, on the floor, down on the ground as a snake, low of the low.  Notice as you are low to the ground, you are also royal like the cobra.

Meditation: Meditate on how you mix gratitude and greed in your life. Meditate on how honest  you are with your gratitude. Ask yourself: When I give gifts of time, favors, or presents to others, do I expect anything in return? Am I attached to the outcome? How about when I give to humanity, the universe or G-d? Do I expect anything in return? Do I ever exclaim when things do not go the way I want, “But I am a good person!” If I am attached to the outcome is this a true gift? A true gratitude.
 
Mantra 1: I practice gratitude for the present moment and non-attachment to the outcome of each moment. I enter with joy the new month of Adar, and for the joy of the over-indulgent Jewish holiday of Purim. In my over-indulging I meet the divine, as too I meet the divine in my constriction. For my practice of gratitude Yom Kippur (Yom Ke-Purim)** and Yom Purim are one in the same.

Mantra 2: I am in gratitude. Abundance flows through me. I do not seek to control it. I do not seek to control others. I am in joy with the new month of Adar.  I appreciate and celebrate the beauty in my life.  I share the beauty of my soul with the world. I give without expecting anything in return. I receive with grace and gratitude. I am a beautiful dwelling for the divine.

** In the Torah Yom Kippur is written in the plural or as Yom Ha-Kippurim. Kippurim can be read as Ke-Purim, a day like Purim.

* One day King Solomon said to his minister, “Benaiah, there is a certain ring that I want you to bring to me. I wish to wear it for the festival, which gives you six months to find it.”
“If it exists anywhere on earth, your majesty,” replied Benaiah, “I will find it and bring it to you, but what makes the ring so special?”

“It has special powers,” answered the king. “If a happy man looks at it, he becomes sad, and if a sad man looks at it, he becomes happy.”

Months passed and still Benaiah had no idea where he could find the ring. On the day before the festival, he decided to take a walk in one of the poorest quarters of Jerusalem. He passed by a merchant who had begun to set out the day’s wares on a shabby carpet. “Have you by any chance heard of a special ring that makes the happy wearer forget his joy and the broken-hearted wearer forget his sorrows?” asked Benaiah.

He watched the elderly man take a plain gold ring from his carpet and engrave something on it. When Benaiah read the words on the ring, his face broke out in a wide smile.

That night the entire city welcomed in the holiday with great festivity. “Well, my friend,” said King Solomon, “have you found what I sent you after?” All the ministers laughed and Solomon himself smiled.

To everyone’s surprise, Benaiah held up a small gold ring and declared, “Here it is, your majesty!” As soon as Solomon read the inscription, the smile vanished from his face. The jeweler had written three Hebrew letters on the gold band: Gimel, Zayin, Yud, which begin the words “Gam zeh ya’avor – This too shall pass.”
​
At that moment Solomon realized that all his wisdom and fabulous wealth and tremendous power were but fleeting things, for one day he would be nothing but dust. He also realized his wisdom and fabulous wealth and tremendous power were not of his merits but rather gifts of G-d.

The Parsha or Torah portion for this week focuses on the glory of the mishkan  (tabernacle) a portable sacred place where the children of Israel could come to atone for sins, pray, celebrate, sing and be in gratitude. G-d asked such a place be built for his presence to dwell, to be a home for the Shechinah or divine feminine sparks. The children of Israel excitedly donated many objects for the creation of this sacred space. Materials and wares collected from their Egyptian neighbors upon their departure out of slavery, mirrors used by the women to beautify themselves for the wash basin and even acacia trees planted by Jacob hundreds of years prior. The anticipation for this sacred moment had been far in advance, materials of great value were donated and the thrill of a place of beauty to hold the divine pulsated through camp. Gratitude was immense. Abundance overflowed. Greed was in full force! Greed?

The Sutras speak of non-attachment, for both the positive and the negative: We should not be attached to our success or averse to our suffering. Both shall change. Instead we are to find ourselves as vessels, to allow the universe or divine to flow through us, to be in harmony with the present and our present situation, good or bad.  The Torah and Kabbalah focuses on this concept of non-attachment as well. Abundance comes from the divine and is not ours to own or become attached. Tzedek (jusice) or Tzedekah (charity) is sharing of these gifts from the divine awarded through us as vessels, to the rest of the community. Since we do not own our abundance, we cannot get attached to our happiness or sadness, for it is constant motion and change, and does not belong to us. As King Solomon’s famous ring read: This Too Shall Pass.*  The hard emotional work of non-attachment in fact leads to total surrender and thus total freedom. We learn to avoid the emotional roller coaster of our ups and downs of happiness and sadness, of successes and suffering. We instead earn and learn to be totally and completely in the present moment.

Now contrast this with desire: I desire beauty.

Judaism asks that we beautify our mitzvot or connections to G-d, and does not this beautification require attachment and money? In addition, my yoga practice requires money, yoga clothes, mats and classes require money, and I want the best for my practice. I like to beautify my yoga practice. How can I have greed and gratitude?  Is it possible? How should I celebrate and indulge in the upcoming Jewish holiday of Purim without greed? There is the Purim Suedah (feast), costumes, Mishloach Manot (gift baskets), synagogue costs, charity to be given and much more associated with this wonderful holiday. How do I give and receive in beauty? How do I give and receive in gratitude? How do I give and receive to become a dwelling place for the divine, to be that vessel for the divine to flow through me? Can I bring beauty to my greed? Just as the children of Israel were asked to beautify a dwelling place for their practice of gratitude to the divine in the desert, creating an external physical place as a mirror for the internal physical place they creating within their minds, bodies and souls so too can we carve spaces of gratitude in our lives built on the beauty of being in the present moment and not controlling it. Yoga too celebrates the gratitude and the beauty of the unity (yoga means unity) of the world and the divine within each of us. We become that beautiful dwelling place of gratitude.

Question: I am the beautiful dwelling. I desire beauty and money. I am in gratitude. How do I reconcile this greed-I-tude?

Yoga Pose: This week in your baby cobra pose, try to lift your chest 2 inches higher than usual. Hold for nine breaths. Notice how this uplifting opens your heart space as well as puffs your chest up and out. Take note of the rush of love, grace and pride. Notice the contradiction and the actual needed weaving of these seemingly opposite qualities as you lie on your mat, on the floor, down on the ground as a snake, low of the low.  Notice as you are low to the ground, you are also royal like the cobra.

Meditation: Meditate on how you mix gratitude and greed in your life. Meditate on how honest  you are with your gratitude. Ask yourself: When I give gifts of time, favors, or presents to others, do I expect anything in return? Am I attached to the outcome? How about when I give to humanity, the universe or G-d? Do I expect anything in return? Do I ever exclaim when things do not go the way I want, “But I am a good person!” If I am attached to the outcome is this a true gift? A true gratitude.

 Mantra 1: I practice gratitude for the present moment and non-attachment to the outcome of each moment. I enter with joy the new month of Adar, and for the joy of the over-indulgent Jewish holiday of Purim. In my over-indulging I meet the divine, as too I meet the divine in my constriction. For my practice of gratitude Yom Kippur (Yom Ke-Purim)** and Yom Purim are one in the same.

Mantra 2: I am in gratitude. Abundance flows through me. I do not seek to control it. I do not seek to control others. I am in joy with the new month of Adar.  I appreciate and celebrate the beauty in my life.  I share the beauty of my soul with the world. I give without expecting anything in return. I receive with grace and gratitude. I am a beautiful dwelling for the divine.

** In the Torah Yom Kippur is written in the plural or as Yom Ha-Kippurim. Kippurim can be read as Ke-Purim, a day like Purim.

* One day King Solomon said to his minister, “Benaiah, there is a certain ring that I want you to bring to me. I wish to wear it for the festival, which gives you six months to find it.”

“If it exists anywhere on earth, your majesty,” replied Benaiah, “I will find it and bring it to you, but what makes the ring so special?”

“It has special powers,” answered the king. “If a happy man looks at it, he becomes sad, and if a sad man looks at it, he becomes happy.”

Months passed and still Benaiah had no idea where he could find the ring. On the day before the festival, he decided to take a walk in one of the poorest quarters of Jerusalem. He passed by a merchant who had begun to set out the day’s wares on a shabby carpet. “Have you by any chance heard of a special ring that makes the happy wearer forget his joy and the broken-hearted wearer forget his sorrows?” asked Benaiah.

He watched the elderly man take a plain gold ring from his carpet and engrave something on it. When Benaiah read the words on the ring, his face broke out in a wide smile.

That night the entire city welcomed in the holiday with great festivity. “Well, my friend,” said King Solomon, “have you found what I sent you after?” All the ministers laughed and Solomon himself smiled.

To everyone’s surprise, Benaiah held up a small gold ring and declared, “Here it is, your majesty!” As soon as Solomon read the inscription, the smile vanished from his face. The jeweler had written three Hebrew letters on the gold band: Gimel, Zayin, Yud, which begin the words “Gam zeh ya’avor – This too shall pass.”

At that moment Solomon realized that all his wisdom and fabulous wealth and tremendous power were but fleeting things, for one day he would be nothing but dust. He also realized his wisdom and fabulous wealth and tremendous power were not of his merits but rather gifts of G-d.

by Rabbi Andrea C. London

In February, The Forward, a prominent national Jewish weekly, published an article about the Yoga Minyan (article can be found in the February 27, 2004 edition, online at www.forward.com), the Shabbat morning service that Julie Singer and I have choreographed to yoga postures. While we were very excited to get national coverage, the article did not adequately explain how I think this service is an authentic expression of Jewish prayer. I would, therefore, like to devote this Talmud Torah column to my thoughts on the connection between Judaism and the body and prayer.

In the morning service we begin with blessings thanking God for creating our bodies, giving us the ability to study Torah, and for our souls. After acknowledging God’s role in the intricate functioning of our bodies, it seems to me that we ignore the body during the rest of the service. We say lots of words in Jewish prayer – words from the Torah and written by the rabbis – to remind us of our history and to teach us about our values and sacred obligations.

By adding music to our worship, we seek to bring the words of our tradition off the page of the prayerbook and into our hearts and souls. In the Yoga Minyan, we add another dimension to our worship by connecting the prayers to our body. Judaism has remained steadfast in its belief that the body is not inferior to the soul and that our bodies are vehicles through which we can access the Divine. By using our body to express our prayer, we strive to create a symbiotic relationship between the body and soul, restoring the body and soul to spiritual wholeness.

Let me offer you an example: The Shema and the blessing that follows, known as the V’ahavta, signify an acceptance of the yoke of G-d’s kingdom and commandments. Jewish prayer, however, is not strictly a contractual exercise, but a daily act designed to help us internalize ideas about our relationship with G-d and G-d’s creation and to recognize G-d’s immanent presence in our lives.

In traditional Jewish prayer, we recite the words in the prayer book while using symbols such as the tallit, music, and choreographed bowing to nurture our connection to G-d. The Yoga Minyan simply employs a broader range of choreographed body movements to add another dimension to the kavanah (spiritual intention) of our prayer. The prayers that precede and follow the Shema speak of G-d’s love for us (Ahavah Rabbah) and of our love for G-d (V’ahavta). The postures that we assume for these prayers are an embodiment of these emotions.

Ideally, prayer should move us to act more in consonance with G-d’s will. To that end, in the Yoga Minyan, we use our bodies in addition to our hearts and minds in an effort to bind ourselves closer to G-d. In this way, we can stand, bow, and stretch out our arms in praise of the Creator of our bodies, whom we refer to in our morning prayers as the Wondrous Fashioner and Sustainer of life.

I invite you to join us at our next Yoga Minyan (April 3 and April 24) so that he might experience for yourself the layers of meaning that are uncovered and the connection to G-d that can be felt when the body is more fully integrated into prayer.

​Rabbi Andrea C. London
Beth Emet The Free Synagogue
Evanston, IL
847-869-4230 (w) 847-677-0846 (h)
[email protected]

by Rabbi Eli Mallon, M.Ed., LMSW
http://www.rabbielimallon.wordpress.com/
Adam and Eve ate fruit from “the tree of the knowledge of good and bad.” [1] Afterwards, they thought that they could determine what’s best for themselves (e.g. they should be clothed). [2] This attitude underlies “pride”: “I know what’s best and I want my way.” But this, we come to see, is also the root of all fear, anger, worry, envy, etc. [3]

No one really knows the future. An act that seems “wrong” at first, can sometimes turn out to be beneficial. Conversely, an act that seems “right” at first can ultimately have negative consequences (e.g. appeasing Hitler pre-WW II). Outside of the general guidelines of mitzvot, or nama/niyama, we ourselves really can’t know.

So: Adam and Eve didn’t actually “know good and bad” after eating the fruit They erroneously believed that they “knew.” Their “pride” had no basis in Reality.

This world (or universe) in which we now live actually is “Eden,” when seen from the “Divine” viewpoint (which, for us, means higher states of conscious-ness).

Eating the fruit, “Eden” became a world of toil, trials and fear – but in appearance only. Eden never ceased to be Eden in reality. The world isn’t “less filled with G-d” just because we don’t see G-d in the world or the world in G-d.
The Midrash [4] says: when Adam and Eve were in the Garden, they were 200 cubits [@350-400 ft.] tall; when they left the Garden, they were 100 cubits [@150-200 ft.] tall.

Were people ever really 100 cubits tall, let alone 200? No. But from higher heights, we see further. So, perhaps the midrash is saying that while in Eden, Adam and Eve could “see further”: Their consciousness, their field of vision, was “higher,” more inclusive, while they were in the Garden, and lower after they left it. While in the Garden, they saw the world more from a Divine perspective; afterwards, from more of a human one.

Another Midrash [5] says: Before their disobedience, Adam (and Eve?) saw a light in which they could see “from one end of the world to the other.” It similarly says that their faces “glowed.”

It’s our “natural state.” All of us should be in a higher state of conscious-ness, filled with light and glowing with health, joy and love. If we take it further, all of us are already perfect! Our perception became limited by Adam & Eve’s error [*] but the essential truth never changed. In effect, our perception is inaccurate.

Rabbi Hisda said: “Of all in whom there’s a ‘prideful’ spirit’ [גסות הרוח], G-d says, ‘he [or she] and I can’t live in the world together’.” [6] It means that our own mistaken sense of separation obscures G-d’s ongoing Presence to us.

Our “pride,” our assumed “separate self”, has no actual reality. It’s a “tendency” that each of us carries – as a consequence of Adam and Eve’s foolish non-compliance – that can be corrected by re-harmonizing ourselves with our own Divine Source – i.e. by surrender of our sense of separation from G-d.

As Steve Sufian, teacher of TM, has commented, this isn’t a “thought” or “mood.” It’s an actual change in consciousness. Jewish tradition calls it “D’veikut” — “cleaving to G-d.”

It’s the ultimate goal of any meditation or spiritual method.

Until Avraham (“Avram,” at first), Biblical characters either “walked with G-d” or walked immersed in their own worldliness. Avraham’s the first to demon-strate the possibility of rediscovering that we’re living perpetually in Eden.
There are multiple paths to this “rediscovery,” as Maharishi Mahesh Yogi and others teach [7]. Among them could clearly be counted “karma yoga” — the surrender of the self through “selfless action;” what Maharishi Mahesh Yogi calls “the innocent path of action” (as in “Torah lishma”) [8]  — or “bhakti yoga” — transcending through the love of G-d (as in Hasidut) [9]. In later midrashim, Avraham is even spoken of as coming to his realization through a process of “reasoning” — i.e. “jnana yoga;” the “intellectual” path to G-d-realization (as in learning Kabbalah, Rambam, Luzzatto, etc.) [10].
But the outcome is the same: the surrender of the self to the Self. It’s called “obedience” in the Bible: Not the frightened groveling of a slave or prisoner, but the submission of one who would learn all that his or her teacher can share with a willing student.

It’s reunifying ourselves with our Divine Source.
​
It’s coming back to what we are meant to be.
________________________________________________________________
 [1] B’reishith/Gen. 3:6
 [2] B’reishith/Gen. 3:7
 [3] B’reishith/Gen. 3:10
 [4] Pesikta Rabbati 1:1
 [5] G’morah to Mishnah Hagigah 2:1 and elsewhere
 [6] Sotah 5a
 [7] Maharishi Mahesh Yogi; The Science of Being and the Art of Living (1966); p. 281
 [8] Maharishi Mahesh Yogi; Commentary on the Bhagavad Gita (3:3); p. 185
 [9] Maharishi Mahesh Yogi; The Science of Being and the Art of Living (1966); p. 290; see also Commentary on the Bhagavad Gita (4:25); p. 293
[10] Maharishi Mahesh Yogi; The Science of Being and the Art of Living (1966); p. 283
 [*] We could also interpret the “Adam & Eve” story allegorically as a process that’s taking place within us, but that would be outside the limits of this short piece.

​