Finding religion in a Saturday morning buffet

Today is Saturday.

Shabbat.

What did you do?

I went to Shacharit for the first time ever on Hannaton.

I sang.

After the 50 minute special chanting service, I snuck out before the Torah was taken out.

I walked home.

I drank coffee.

I meditated in the morning sun.

I grabbed my phone, put it on “silent” and walked back up the hill to meet my neighbors for Kiddush.

I got there only after the prayers were spoken.

I chatted with a friend. About Facebook.

I continued my walk with my phone in my pocket, took it off “silent.”

I meditated in the afternoon sun.

I waved to my neighbors walking their dog.

I found God … in a patch of flowers.

 

In a moth resting along a forgotten wall.

 

I thought about my yesterday and my tomorrow.

I said out loud quiet prayers of gratitude that my children are healthy.

I breathed in deep.

I said “thank you” to the sun.

I ate a quiet lunch alone.

I moved closer to the computer.

I opened up a window.

I moved my fingers across rows of raised letters.

I reached out to you.

* * * *

Is this Judaism?

Is this religion?

Is this observance?

Is this prayer?

Is this devotion?

What do you call this religion of mine?

I call it

A Saturday-morning buffet

Jen Maidenberg is  a writer, editor, activist and former assistant editor at the Arizona Jewish Post. Visit her website at http://jenmaidenberg.com/. She first posted this on Feb. 2, 2013.