{"id":3491,"date":"2011-06-29T23:34:51","date_gmt":"2011-06-30T06:34:51","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/216.92.17.21\/?p=3491"},"modified":"2011-06-29T23:57:51","modified_gmt":"2011-06-30T06:57:51","slug":"kaddished-out-said-%e2%80%94-real-secret-mourning-ritual","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/beitmalkhut.org\/?p=3491","title":{"rendered":"I’m all kaddished-out, she said… \u2014 the real secret of mourning rituals…"},"content":{"rendered":"

I know I brought this up on my last post \u2014 the one on suicides<\/a> \u2014 about just feeling all kaddished-out. \u00a0And then, hearing of Randy’s suicide, feeling that there was more to say. Much more. \u00a0But then even that was not sustainable.<\/p>\n

I mean, here am I \u2014 Dr. Doom, as my housemate calls me \u2014 all wrung dry of doom, gloom, loss, grief, dying, and yes, even pessimism. \u00a0What’s come over me?<\/p>\n

What’s come over me is kaddish in two-part harmony. \u00a0What’s come over me is really paying attention to the death and the dying and the loss and the grief. \u00a0Giving over to it. \u00a0Actually saying kaddish<\/em>. And feeling relieved by it.<\/p>\n

In other words: ritual works.<\/p>\n

The day that Galina died, I called and told my parents. \u00a0They were over within an hour, laden with yahrtzeit candles and a siddur. \u00a0My dad lit the candle and recited kaddish. \u00a0And it helped<\/em>. \u00a0I never expected it to help. \u00a0We were just standing there, in the kitchen, nothing special, and still it helped. \u00a0I don’t understand it.<\/p>\n

Galina specialized in ritual. \u00a0How many times did she invite me to participate in a volume or a conference session on ritual \u2014 and I refused.<\/p>\n

“I don’t have anything on ritual,” I would say. \u00a0I mean, I’ve studied the theory, know it backwards and forwards, teach it. Or rather, teach about<\/em> it. \u00a0But listening to Kogan’s kaddish every night, and reciting kaddish for our project is as close to doing-ritual as I’ve ever gotten.<\/p>\n

None of the theory I’ve read says that doing a mourning ritual for a year and a day works out of the sheer boredom<\/em> of it. \u00a0After months of crying your eyes out while reciting (or writing, in this case), mourning becomes routinized. \u00a0 None of the theorists talk about how powerful the banality of recitation can be. How sick of it you get.\u00a0And how, after a while, you’re just plain done mourning and ready to get the fuck on with life.<\/p>\n

Either that, or I’ve missed the point. And maybe I’m supposed to still be crying my eyes out. \u00a0It’s very possible.<\/p>\n

I’ve done year-and-a-day ‘rituals’ before. \u00a0Almost every year, for example, I pick an attribute to adhere to for the entire year. \u00a0The exercise is that everything you do for the duration, must be done through this one attribute. \u00a0So. If you pick, for example, ‘mystery’ (which was the first one that I selected, about 20 years ago), then every moment of day or night should be seen as mysterious. As discovering mystery, or uncovering mystery. You get the idea. \u00a0And it’s very very difficult. \u00a0You breathe it in. You breathe it out. You live a year of mystery.<\/p>\n

That was all fine and good until I was stupid enough to pick the attribute of ‘tolerance.’<\/p>\n

For the first six months I thought it meant I should be tolerant. \u00a0It became impossible to grade papers with an attitude like that. \u00a0Impossible to discipline children. I gave up my critical eye. \u00a0The second six months, I realized that the attribute of ‘tolerance’ was there to teach me not just what is tolerable, but the limits of toleration. \u00a0Now I know that all these attributes have edges, limits \u2014 and we learn exactly where that line lies.<\/p>\n

Some of the attributes that I’ve spent a year and a day with include: mystery, patience, strength, vitality, acceptance, volition, tolerance, optimism (that one was brutal), simplicity, organization, vigilance, and now \u2014 mourning. \u00a0And a big part of this shared mourning ritual has been about listening<\/em> \u2014 although I think it was supposed to be about hearing. \u00a0Oops.<\/p>\n

Listening (or hearing) Kogan’s kaddish every night started out as just plain torture. \u00a0I had not been listening to music since Galina’s death. That would be a couple years, then. \u00a0And Kogan’s kaddish had no beat that I could discern. \u00a0I couldn’t hum it, follow it, tap my foot to it, remember it. \u00a0Torture. \u00a0But Kogan’s kaddish became my year and a day ritual for the year, and here I am still listening.<\/p>\n

And I’ll finish the year, I swear I will.<\/p>\n

But at about two-thirds into these year-long rituals, it’s easy to lose it. \u00a0It feels like just going through the motions. \u00a0Feels like I’m listening but not hearing. \u00a0Feels like I’ve nothing more to say. No visions from the music, no thoughts, no feelings \u2014<\/p>\n

I feel all emptied out. And I think that’s exactly what this kind of ritual is supposed to do. \u00a0By the time the year and a day is over, the lesson is learned, the deed is done. It’s finally time to move on.<\/p>\n

Some attributes are just too tough to even think about trying. ‘Love’ for example. \u00a0I’ve never even attempted that one for my year-and-a-day ritual. It’s always sounded downright impossible. \u00a0Daunting. The idea of breathing love in, breathing it out. \u00a0Observing through loving eyes, seeing love \u2014 witnessing the edges, the places where it starts to disappear.<\/p>\n

But being all kaddished-out leaves room for trying something completely out of character. Something as brave and tough as love \u2014 that’s ‘love’ as ritual, I mean. \u00a0This is quite different from simply loving \u2014 which is a whole lot easier.<\/p>\n

Being all kaddished-out is not just about me and my own feelings. \u00a0I want to say something larger here. There are those I know who hold on to grief with all their heart and all their might and will not let it go. They hold on because they think if they let it go, nothing will be left but a giant empty hole \u2014 a void. An emptiness.<\/p>\n

They’re not saying kaddish \u2014 because saying kaddish would limit their mourning time.<\/p>\n

I think this is the place I was in before starting this project. \u00a0Mourning without end.<\/p>\n

But the secret of mourning rituals is not that we do them, but that we stop. And if we’ve done it right, we come to that last day \u2014 and then we’re done.<\/p>\n

Who knew?<\/p>\n

Probably everybody. \u00a0But this was news to me.<\/p>\n

I can’t wait to stop saying kaddish \u2014 another four months down the road. \u00a0Can’t wait to stop listening to Kogan’s kaddish every night. But mourning, like all the other year-and-a-day qualities that I have cultivated, will grow into an old friend that I think I’ll be at peace with.<\/p>\n

Until the next time. \u00a0And then, given the intensity of this time, I can just wonder \u2014 will it be easier? \u00a0Can it be easier to just let go? \u00a0Do we learn the letting-go lesson from vigilantly doing our mourning rituals this once, or do we really have to do our year-and-a-day each and every time, and let it work its magic each time we lose someone?<\/p>\n

My guess: it’s both.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I know I brought this up on my last post \u2014 the one on suicides \u2014 about just feeling all kaddished-out. \u00a0And then, hearing of Randy’s suicide, feeling that there was more to say. Much more. \u00a0But then even that was not sustainable. I mean, here am I \u2014 Dr. Doom, as my housemate calls…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[250,216],"tags":[265,557,258,254],"class_list":["post-3491","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-essays","category-kaddish-in-two-part-harmony","tag-kaddish","tag-lev-kogan","tag-mourning","tag-ritual"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/beitmalkhut.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3491","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/beitmalkhut.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/beitmalkhut.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/beitmalkhut.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/beitmalkhut.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=3491"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/beitmalkhut.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3491\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3497,"href":"https:\/\/beitmalkhut.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3491\/revisions\/3497"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/beitmalkhut.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3491"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/beitmalkhut.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=3491"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/beitmalkhut.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=3491"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}