As If
December 2009

As If
this text alone
this Talmudic text
its mastery
its intricacy
its often hair-splitting pettiness

As if
this was the essence
the meaning
the true standard by which we measure
you, Julian,
as 
a 
scholar.

As if
all those years,
toiling to impress
her
him
them
were for naught.

As if
showing up
daily at 5 30 am
frosty dark mornings of mid western winters
with coffee steaming
would somehow deliver the intellectual goods.

As if 
I would finally be accepted
Into this club
Whose members judge you only by one standard
As if she would finally acquiesce
And nod her head in approval
after all those years of resentment...
go on admit it
you never deserved her daughter anyway
B student
B protoplasm
B intelligence.

Daily the pages roll on
now in my last cycle
before completing the voluminous tomes
their burgundy fake leather covers
and the ubiquitous Artscroll-smug gold lettering
the entire corpus
over 7 years of this daily burden
to prove
after all
I could master it
I could complete 
the page count
the folio cycle
the bean counting 
page after page
leaf after leaf
over 7 years
a veritable shmittah cycle

What did Reb Meir’l have in mind for the masses?
in the cold Lublin winters of the 20’s
he even visited Chicago to fund raise!
Had I applied to Chachmei Lublin
they would have laughed!
for 200 blatt by heart was the minimum demanded for admission
to this Harvard of a non-Lithuanian institution.

Each year I grow older 
the more the Daf remains the same
black ink on white velum
the Vilna edition is so austere
so unforgiving
so uninviting
yet the relief of completion daily
like having taken one’s medicine
is viscerally palpable,
"now the day can really begin"
the burden removed for another 23 hours.
And another obsession to deal with.

What will I do after completion you ask?
will I turn to the beginning again
Massechet Berachot 2a?

as if
nothing had happened

as if
naturally one does it again
for in reality
we had only skimmed it the first time
like milk that forms a skin on the surface of the tea
for in truth what can you really garner in an hour?
one blatt an hour-ridiculous!
the Litvaks cry
decry
snickering;

so start again of course!
maybe this time round more will osmose
more will sink in 
the skin will float less
you will grasp a little more.

Or will I politely let go
shut the study hall
close the tomes
place them like soldiers on my shelf
and desist.

Get up the next morning at 5 am 
and NOT go there
where my colleagues labor
and do what?
sit still?
think?
just intend the day?

As if
I had the courage to do that
face my real self
face the real day alone
without crutches and coffee
daf yomi and the tools of daily ritual and quotas of learning!

As if
I could do no-thing
no learning
no inspiration
just BE alive
and grateful
intend to receive the blessings from the universe
through me this day
to give to others on their journey
and suffering.
what has this morning ritual ever given me but 
the feeling of having fulfilled someone else’s notion of truth
and mastery and sanctity.

Why not begin the day
with a morning ritual
a learning of a poem say
or the deep meditation on the entanglement of everything
interlocked in quantum space
to feel the body in this space
in the silence of reality
as the sun dawns-

Resist the idea of the disconnected brain facing the black Aramaic words
the coffee soaked mind listening to the arguments
over third century patristics-
rather listen to a Bach prelude in its symmetry and glory
or read a Celan poem
or a Sonnet?

But that is not sanctioned;
no bearded Rabbi came to Chicago from Poland preaching music
Lakewood is not filled with students vying for mastery over Liszt preludes-
even the poems of Rav Kook would raise eyebrows.

As if
I would have the courage to face that day
another way

As if
the little boy inside has ceased yearning the approval of others.