Giving it a rest

Hey there, my name is Rabbi Jen Gubitz, and I'm pumped to be joined by Rabbi Jodi Gordon as we welcome you to the OMFG podcast, Jewish wisdom for unprecedented times. Today I am recording live from my bed. Hey, Jodi.

Hey, Gubitz. OMFG, what a fabulous 4-letter word. These letters cover so much ground, from 2 feet of snow to Zoom holiday parties, daylight saving time to scrolling on your iPhone until 2 in the morning. As rabbis, we have come to know that when the stories of our lives meet the stories of Jewish tradition, transformation, growth, something awesome occurs.

Jodi and I are experts in the letters J and G, comfy pants and iced coffee tumblers, as well as Tot Shabbat songs with hand movements and Google Docs. And we want to bring to you our conversations that express our love for Judaism and make it relevant in the world as we mine Jewish wisdom for strength and resilience in these unprecedented times with a dose of humor. Because as Mary Pettibone Poole famously said, she who laughs lasts. All it takes is a comma and an S.

This week we are talking about rest. Which feels appropriate because, well, we are exhausted. Let's play rest word association, Jen. Okay?

Okay. Can it just the word rest or sleep or nap or what are the rules?

Yeah, it's word association. So I think you just gave us like 7 words.

Just to die one.

You ready?

Born ready. Give it a rest, Jodi.

I need a nap.

While the rest of us are going out sledding, I'm gonna stay inside on the couch.

It's rest hour!

Resting Zoom face.

Ooh, I like that one. Okay, Jen, this feels like the conversation we were born for. Let's talk about rest.

I've been marinating on a quote from Krista Tippett in a recent On Being newsletter. She wrote, quote, I'm feeling a bone-deep exhaustion right now, yet I'm also feeling a resistance to the softness and rest that this season urges. I feel so deeply what Krista says. 2020, we expected it to be a clarifying year of awesomeness that was, for most people, ultimately awful. And it's finally nearing an end, and I am so tired of it and from it. From the screens, from the anxiety, from the isolation, from the rapidly growing numbers of death. I'm exhausted that people don't care enough for their neighbors to stay home. I'm just totally exhausted. But we live in a culture in America that prioritizes more. More work, more hours, more focus. Which may leave us with more money, but I suspect more burnout. I'm even tired talking about it. What about you, Jodi?

I think there's a lot to be tired from. I mean, there's no doubt to me that this time where there's a sense that the time has become more expansive. And so shouldn't we maybe be getting more sleep or shouldn't we feel more relaxed because somehow on the one hand it looks like we're doing less. I think there is just this deep psychological, physiological, spiritual exhaustion we're all experiencing right now. And I am somebody who loves to rest and I love thinking about rest. In fact, I will tell you that my very first AOL screen name back in 1996 was Schluffy 80, and shluffy is the Yiddish word for sleepy because in high school that was my personality. Like I thought it was an entire personality type was that I could be sleepy and love taking naps. And therefore I was schluffy 80 and maybe I still am. But I think there is a difference in all seriousness between rest and sleep. And I do have a few things to say about rest. So that Krista Tippett piece, when you had sent it to me earlier, it really, it struck such a deep chord. And that bone-deep exhaustion, right? It's something that, you know, one nap or one good night of sleep isn't going to fix. And I think there is a difference between rest and sleep in that way. And when you think about the way our, you know, our broader American culture, our broader modern culture talks about rest, I don't think we get a lot of options. I think our culture tells us that rest is for small children or for older adults. And everyone in between should just keep being productive and maybe like get a bath bomb or use a face mask every once in a while. And there's like your day of self-care and like, poof, you're refreshed. And on the other hand, I think this is important to say, rest also seems like a privilege in this monetized productive culture, right? Not everyone actually can rest and also take care of themselves and pay their rent and feed their children and, and turn on their heat each and every month during the winter. So I think that's important to name and like pause and notice.

It's a painful pause just to acknowledge that truth, that for some people, if you don't work an hour, it really negatively impacts.

It matters deeply, right? It matters. It's incredibly consequential. But if we're talking about rest and the ways in which we aspire for it to exist in our lives and the way we aspire aspire and hope and wish and pray for it to exist in the lives of all human beings who are deserving of dignity and refreshment and replenishment. I read something, and actually I'm going to pause there. I like to tell the truth. I didn't read it. I listened to it on Audible because I don't have the mental energy to stop and read, which is part of my exhaustion. But so I listened recently on Audible to Glennon Doyle's book that came out this year, has been very popular in at least the world I inhabit, called Untamed. And she tells the story. It just, it stopped me in my tracks. And it was as though she was narrating like something in my head that I didn't realize was there. And she tells the story about a common point of stress or tension or disagreement between her and her spouse. And she comes home one day and she sees her wife Abby sitting on the couch, just resting, but it's the middle of the day. And Glennon Doyle tells the story of coming into her house and seeing her wife sitting on the couch, reading a book, relaxing, maybe with a cup of tea and a blanket on. And she describes this, this rage and this discomfort bubbling up in her, and that her wife looks at her and says, "You're mad at me that I'm resting. You're mad that I'm not doing anything." And Glennon Doyle unpacks this all beautifully in her incredibly wise and wonderful way, but the too long, don't read on this is that she says that she realized that she inherited this narrative that rest is either laziness or luxury, and that productive adults don't simply stop to sit and be. Rest is for children and old people. And when you are in your 40s with kids and a job, you don't stop and rest. And that, that hit me hard, right? This idea that, you know, you always have to be busy. And I think we do inherit a lot of this in our broader culture. There's all sorts of clichés about idle hands, right? And the devil's work. When now, when there's so much less that we can do outside in the world, how come we can't land in a more restful place in our homes and in our lives now, certainly during this pandemic? So that's something I've been thinking a lot about, rest. Bath bombs and face masks aren't going to replenish us. 2 hours of extra sleep aren't going to do the trick. And that's what brings me back to that question of, are rest and sleep synonymous? And here's where I actually think the Jewish tradition comes in and is so wise and is so smart because we have Shabbat, right? Shabbat is that ultimate expression of the Jewish commitment to rest and not just in that Shabbat shloof, right? That Shabbat nap kind of way. But in the way that Shabbat is weekly, that literally every 7 days we're supposed to just stop and rest. And it's not a treat and it's not a luxury. It's a practice.

You know, because this is an audio recording, folks can't see my reaction. And I'm wondering if it's the same as theirs as they hear the Glennon Doyle piece and everything you're saying, which is this deep nodding, this deep, yes, that is resonating so much. I feel like I'm with you hearing that audiobook for the first time. I did just order that book in the hard copy, and it just resonates so much what you said. And, and for me, actually gives me a little bit of relief. It felt like a little bit of a yawn that actually nourished me. So thank you for sharing that.

We have a colleague who's wife. I believe she is a PhD, so let's call her doctor in the spirit of giving— yes, in the spirit of giving women their titles this week. But Allison Link, who's part of our extended Jewish world, her specialty, her expertise is in leisure. And I remember being at a wedding with her once. Allison, if you're listening to this, I never forgot this, where she told about how her expertise was in leisure and that in particular she worked in the carceral system in working with people who are incarcerated to figure out how leisure might fit into their own mental health practices and into their own sort of rehabilitation. And someone said something incredibly sort of like dismissive and sardonic about rest and leisure. And I can't quote exactly what she said, but I will never forget how it made me feel to hear this incredibly like wise and wonderful professional talk about leisure and rest as crucial to the human project. And that to me also speaks to the Glennon Doyle piece of how deeply we inherit this narrative that rest is for little kids and for older people. And when you're a grownup, like you just have to keep working. You're not allowed to stop and sit and be.

I wonder if I was at the same wedding, cause I have the same exact memory. Was it Kevin and Hannah's wedding? Kevin and Hannah, shout out to you. I remember learning about leisure as an academic. Subject from Allison as well, and about it being a practice, and also especially connecting it actually to marathons, because training for marathons, which takes hours upon hours and a lot of money, is something that is often only accessible to people who don't work hourly because they have the leisure time, because they can rely on a salary or income in a different way. And so I think we've actually really struggled with leisure in this moment in the pandemic, because so many of us are used to to-do lists that we get in the car to, to do. And so many of us are used to this constant state of productivity, some of which has to do with shuttling yourself or other people to and from commuting, producing, producing outcomes, outcomes. And we have been forced into what I've been calling, and I'm not sure it's the right words, a holy sabbatical. Which is that we have taken down all of the things that used to sort of block us from just being with ourselves. Even if you're in the car, there's other things you can do, listening to something rather than— and paying attention. Yeah, pay attention on the road. Um, that's especially a shout out to people driving in Massachusetts because we're not very good at it, but there's really been this sense of busyness that has prevented us from just being with ourselves. And sometimes that's because sitting with yourself is hard and you don't want to face what's there. And sometimes I think it's because it's a product of our culture and expectations. So shout out to Alison Link, shout out to Glennon Doyle. And I want to give a shout out to God, the G in O-M lowercase f capital G. Shout out to God, because if you think you are so busy that there is no way you could take a break, Guess what? God did. 6 days the world is created. Each day God is like, this is great. Actually, God says, this is good. Humans, very good. Day 7, God takes a break. God rests and stops doing. God, thank you for modeling for us, especially for those of us who don't know how to stop. That is really profound because God stops at the end of creation to bless the work and take a breath. I happen to believe, and I know, Jodi, that we actually think we agree on this, the greatest invention of Judaism and its greatest gift to the world is Shabbat, this day of stopping, of resouling. There's a word, vayinafash, that comes in V'shamru, one of the prayers that we sing on Shabbat. And vayinafash is this idea of nefesh, of bringing breath back into your body, bringing soul back into your body. Breathing it back into your inner being, and also quitting the grind and the toil and the pursuit of success, pursuing the moreness, the more, more, more, more, more, just to be. Shabbat is so critical to human well-being. And as you said, Jewish tradition says it's weekly. You got to try to get your soul back. You can't wait until you're completely depleted. And in fact, it's so important that we get our soul back that on Shabbat we actually get an extra soul. Which I don't think is a reason for us not to take it a little bit easier during the week, just because we get to double down on it on Shabbat. But there's this idea that your soul within you needs companionship and resouling ourselves is so critical. It's radical. It's saying we have to stop. Gunther Plaut, who is a famous rabbi, creator of one of our Torah commentaries called Shabbat Protest, and Abraham Joshua Heschel, who wrote a book called The Sabbath, which is about Shabbat, Heschel says the following, which I think just sits so importantly on my soul. He says, the meaning of the Sabbath is to celebrate time rather than space. 6 days a week we live under the tyranny of things of space. On the Sabbath, we try to become attuned to holiness in time. It is a day on which we are called upon to share in what is eternal in time. To turn from the results of creation to the mystery of creation, from the world of creation to the creation of the world. Heschel uses the word tyranny. The way that we often live our lives, the other 5.5, 6 days a week, is tyrannical, and we have to protest against it.

I love this vision of Shabbat. And I think if you and I were probably to be super honest here, right, that's not usually what my Shabbat looks like. So there is this space somewhere between the Jewish tradition offers us as like, here's what Shabbat can be and what it takes to get there. And I was thinking about it a lot this week because I was thinking about, you know, when have I experienced true rest? And maybe this will resonate with you, but I feel like when I take vacation time, Right. Vacation isn't synonymous with rest, but when I take vacation time, it takes me at least 2 or 3 days to unwind, right? To like sort of slough off what it is I'm taking vacation from before I start to feel genuinely rested and genuinely relaxed. And in parallel to that, our tradition gives us all of this sort of, all of this material about here's what you need to do in order to rest on Shabbat. Here's what Shabbat preparation looks like so that you can get the extra soul so that those 25 hours can be restful. And I'll pause here to note and remind our listeners that you are listening to two Reform rabbis. So for me, and I think for both of us, right, Shabbat isn't about, you know, whether or not we use electricity and whether or not we worry about the, like, what you can't do. But even in the most beautiful expression of what it means to get ready for Shabbat, sometimes it feels hard, right? It feels hard to even do the sloughing off, the shutting down that it would take for Shabbat to feel really restful. You know, I think about it as there is something similar though, to the way you prepare for a vacation. What do you do to get ready for a vacation? Like you finish, usually your last day at work has a huge to-do list as you sort of madly cross it all off. And then you put on that away message and you turn off your email and you do all of these things in order to be able to then sort of go into this other time and space. And then the Jewish tradition says, but actually you have to do that every week with Shabbat. You need to prepare a meal. Your home should be clean and peaceful. You know, you should have something wonderful to eat and time to sit and to read. I don't know, Jen, is that what Shabbat looks like in your house?

There's definitely a lot that has to happen also, because for us, Shabbat means actually, in fact, these days, turning on the computer for me at 6 o'clock or 5 o'clock for Tashabat, having a sermon or having Torah study ready. So no, it doesn't look like that. Our house is certainly not clean on Friday afternoon. When I think of the ideal, I have models that really speak to me, one of which was Shabbat at camp. And I know that not everyone has had the privilege to go to camp, and I am grateful. My mom actually worked at camp so that I could go to camp and that my siblings could go to camp. And the way that camp treats Fridays is, is really different. Lunch is outside that day because it gives the team time to prepare the dining hall for Shabbat dinner. There's an all-camp cleanup where every cabin goes around to different areas to spruce up camp. There's also a personal cleanup that includes often showering in very cold water because, you know, 300 kids showering off the grime of the camp week. And then we would start at the top of camp and I was a song leader, so I got to see the whole progression. I had to change my guitar strings and make sure everything was set. This was the pre-Rabbinic, but still very similar to what my life is like today. Are we ready for Shabbat services and song session? And we would stand at the top of camp. By the library and by the motel unit in the office. We called it up top, and someone would blow the shofar calling everyone to attention and quiet. People would hug and kiss in the times when we could hug and kiss, and then we would strum our first guitar chord, which was usually Ma Yefeh Hayom or Boi Kalah, welcome, O bride. And then we would begin walking leisurely to pick up the first unit, which was Avodah, the high school seniors, and then we would walk down to the girls' area, then to the boys' area. Then we would walk to the Beit Tefillah, to our outdoor chapel, and begin services. And for me, that is really what Shabbat would look and feel like if I were able to create it again in this moment in time.

And camp is that place, right? Camp sort of is Heschel's place in time. So Jen, you're recording in bed and I'm recording in my office, which is one of my quiet places, less than 2 miles down the road from URJ Eisner Camp.

Shout out to URJ Gubitz in Zionsville, Indiana.

We're not competitive, I promise. Right, from that, from my magical place, right, from the magical hill. We didn't call it Up Top, we called it Olim Hill, but from the magical hill where I had those first really full-body experiences, exactly like you described, of what preparing for Shabbat looks like. And there was something magical about it, about spending a whole day in preparation and in anticipation of the week changing, of it becoming Shabbat, and that entailing a different way of being. I mean, first of all, for some kids, the fact that you took a shower was what made it Shabbat, but that you would dress differently, right? And that the food was ever so slightly better on Shabbat, and that Shabbat dinner looked different, and you could sit with different people. Everything about it was ingrained in us as campers and then as counselors of Shabbat is about making the day of the week different. I used to work at the JCC in Manhattan where Rabbi Joy Levitt serves as the executive director, and she always said something about Shabbat that I quote constantly, and that is that Shabbat is about creating a time and space that is different than Tuesday. And I think for me, that's a really expansive way of looking at it because that beautiful description of Shabbat at camp, right, with a whole day to prepare, knowing that pretty much it was going to be perfect, right? Shabbat camp is sort of this perfect, idyllic palace in time that Heschel describes. And then there's the rest of the real world. And so how do you make it different than Tuesday? I think is one way that I also think about Shabbat for those times and places in our lives. And I feel like I'm living through one right now where my house isn't going to be clean. There's probably not going to be like a 3-course meal on the table. But if I can, right, on a Friday afternoon, get to the point where there's Shabbat candles out, and maybe I have something resembling juice for my kids to put in the kiddush cups that they were given when they were babies, and we can find 4 minutes to light candles and to drink juice, which is a special treat in our house, before I sign on to Zoom, I feel like I've created at least like the entrance to that palace in time.

Our friend, our colleague, Karen Pearlman, shared with me that no No matter how many times she lights candles a day for work, for temple, she still prioritizes lighting at home. And that's something I've really taken to heart because we have really started lighting candles more now than ever because I'm actually home to do it. And in terms of making it feel different from the rest of the week, I feel like that light and actually doing it together has been really critical. And they're candlesticks from my bat mitzvah that have never really been used. We got a kiddush cup for our wedding that we also use. I mean, we fill it with boxed wine. Let's be clear. But when I work with people who say to me, there's no time to stop, I'm a corporate lawyer, or I work in finance, or I work London hours. And I, I say to them, when could you stop? Could it be 20 minutes? And could that be the beginning of a larger stopping? I don't care when you light the candles, light them at some point. I don't care if they're Shabbat candles or one smells like vanilla and one smells like lavender. You just need at least two candles to bring in Shabbat. If you can bless wine, I know you're having a nice glass of wine anyways. Offer some gratitude, bless some bread. Is it braided or is it sliced? Is it frozen or gluten-free? It doesn't matter. Bless some bread and then offer some gratitude. That can be done in 5 minutes. I think it deserves more time than that, but there is a way to sort of inch towards the protest, which is about bringing light and illuminating that day as different from all other days.

There's something that I have struggled with a lot, certainly as an adult, as my family circles have expanded and I have more observant members of my extended family for whom Shabbat is different, right? Shabbat is much more— I'm going to take that back. It's not that it's different, but there are more rules around their Shabbat. And something that I have often thought about is when you observe Shabbat in a particular way that to me, let's call it more differently observant or more traditional, there's so much preparation that goes into Shabbat, that goes into preparing for rest. There is so much work that traditionally landed on women's shoulders. And there was a time in my life where I looked at traditional quote unquote Shabbat observance and I said, isn't it just another day of the week where like the mom has to do more cooking and more preparation and have more things ready for an even longer span of time so that everybody else can rest? And I think that there's probably some truth to that. And I also think it's, it's an overly cynical view on Shabbat. And what I love about the Shabbat that you just described, it is expansive and It reminds me of something. So something that I think we both learned in rabbinical school is that every rabbi actually only has one sermon, right? There's one thing we teach and we say it in different words at different times over and over again. I know it's true for me. There is sort of one Shabbat sermon. There is one thing that for me is ultimately true that I will repeat over and over again to anyone who will listen about Shabbat. And so I'm wondering, what's your Shabbat sermon?

You are a wholly human soul and you deserve a chance to take a break and you deserve to figure out the way that it works for you, but you deserve it and you need to take it. What about you, Jodi?

Mine is that whatever your Shabbat looks like, as long as it's different than Tuesday, that is a beautiful Shabbat. So don't worry if there's no tablecloth, don't worry if there's no roast chicken or whatever would be your vision of the perfect traditional elaborate Shabbat dinner. If sitting down at a table around pizza and apple juice, which for me was to me like the Friday night treat. If that's what gets you and the people you love around a table on Friday night and feels special and feels different and feels holy, that's the most beautiful Shabbat I can imagine. So don't get all hung up on these ideas of shoulds and have-tos and what it's supposed to look like. I think for me that that ultimate sermon does come back to make it different than Tuesday.

For folks who are trying to figure out what Shabbat could look like in their lives, how to take a rest, first check out Genesis. God gives an example. There's also a great organization called Reboot, and they have the Shabbat Manifesto, which is a series of 10 options that you might try out during the day. Really, this is about trying it on and figuring out what works best for you, but ultimately you deserve it, and however it looks will be perfect. So we want to end with these words from Anne Helen Petersen. She writes on fatigue and burnout. Her writing can be found on Substack. And here it is. Dear all of us, you are beloved and worthy of rest, not because of your capacity to work or your relative capacity to subsist on fumes. You are beloved and worthy of rest because you are human, not a robot. This year has emptied us. Give yourself permission to continue to seek fullness.

Happy New Year, y'all, and Shabbat Shalom. This episode of the OMFG podcast, Jewish wisdom for unprecedented times, was brought to you by Rabbis Jen Gubitz and Jodi Gordon. Audio editing by Leslie Gubitz. Art by Daniel Ben-Yushai. And brought to you by the letter F.

What are your favorite F words?

French fries. Funfetti donut.

And one point of order: we have learned of the tremendous error of my mispronunciation of the plural for esophagus. The plural is esophagii, not esophaguses. And this organ is not in your stomach. New Year's resolutions include deeper consideration of plural forms of words and an anatomy lesson.