Holy Moses!

By: Cynthia Litman

Pearl of the Week: Let it Go

This time of year when spring awakens the earth, easter bunnies cross our paths and Passover sparks the pearl "everything that is old must be let go for there is a greater power at work."

The Passover story brings out my 'Mo'ses complex in a major way.

Moses was born one way, a slave, abandoned to fate to be drawn from the river Nile to be raised the polar opposite way, as a prince. Fully living the expression of who he was nurtured to be until he re-found his roots and reclaimed his birthright. Only from braving hundreds of miles through the desert in the other side's sandals can you objectively and subjectively understand when changes are necessary.

You had better have the almighty’s backing if you intend to convince your adversary/one time brother that the 400 years of tradition residing in his crown is no longer just or sustainable.

And that's just the first part of the story.

The journey really begins with a lost people with no taste of freedom, knowing no other way except slavery. Undertaking responsibility to guide thousands of people through the harsh desert conditions into a new land for the promise of living for yourself instead of under the whip of another's will.  

To discover an entirely new way of being, more than laws are needed to undue the consciousness of slavery that runs generations deep.

Wow, holy Mommas Pearls!

Cut to thousands of years later, I’m whipping up a Seder for my young family and their grandparents to sit down and remember the stories of ole and embrace our collective heritage.

It brings tears to my eyes.

Starting Point

As I tidy up my house, I see flashes of my grandmother polishing the silverware with her family in pre-war Poland.

For weeks prior to Passover, they'd ready the house, switch the dishware, bust out the china, polish the silverware, dust the lamps, press and steam the linens, prepare the meals, ensure the crystal stemware were spotless and place white candles abound. 

Or so went my mother and grandmother's tales of yesteryear.  I fully inherit the feeling and quality of their experience with each glance around my home and with each intention breathed into blessings.

It is now my time to honor, embody and resurrect tradition. My turn to create an atmosphere to gaze into each others eyes and cast shared prayers drawn from the first breaths of freedom again into the world.

Each recipe has a memory, like my moms brisket, my mother in law’s mondel bread, and my grandmother’s infamous from scratch gefilta fish that I vow to attempt next year. 

Passover is a DIY holiday. Meaning, YOU run the service, in your home, with your loved ones, your way. Sure there are guidelines and a check list but there's no requirement to go to temple, you are not led by your rabbi, rather you infuse the meaning and run the service.

The aromas fill up in my kitchen with the love of my family, the bitter sweet story of our people, my ancestors and our ultimate faith and destiny that brought us all to be at my Seder table.

I miss my grandfather terribly during Passover. He made Seders awesome, looooooong, but amazing.

It was like having a rabbi at the table. He’d stop at every quatrain in the Haggadah (prayer book courtesy of Maxwell House) and go “I have something to say….” He’d proceed to ad lib, interpret and share the back stories. We got the inside scoop. I pray I have video somewhere because it’s so engrained in my mind despite not remembering a word of his sermons which he’d always close with “…and that’s it...”   Until 2 minutes later.

His passion for his people, love of his religion and endless quest for a juicy conversation is in my heart at every holiday.

I remember being a kid at my other grandparent’s house and eagerly awaiting the green light to search for the hidden matzo (afikomen) for a cash reward. Those searches took hours and if I lost, I lost it!!  With a room packed with adults, everyone anted up, that's a whole lot of Bazooka at stake!!  

Now the tradition has laid upon my door, which I gladly open welcoming the peace bringer Elijah, I wonder what will soak into the spirits of those in my home. 

Will my kids be rich with love and respect for a holiday tradition that I’ve always loved?

Fresh off her school Passover play, an awesome 15 minute recreation of the Passover story (versus the 4 hour Ten Commandments version), my daughter stepped right up to help her father lead the Seder, recount the facts, the 4 ?'s and debate the back story (my grandpa's smiling!). All the kids added to the Seder and clapped and laughed along.

After all, we do the Seders to pass on the legacy and fill in their back
story.

As we imprint their memories, I scan where I shed bitter tears in my life and how I, like Pharoah am holding on to old beliefs that are no longer sustainable. As they come into focus I start to see new pathways of where my heart can go.

Perhaps no one will follow my lead but Passover, Easter and with the flowers springing everywhere reminds me to embrace change and welcome renewal.

Tis the season to lead and be led in a new direction. Time to fine tune the voice within and trust that your pathway will be revealed.

Related Mommas Pearls Content:

Spring Fever

Family Legacies

Copyright © 2013 Cynthia Litman d/b/a Tigris Imprints. All Rights Reserved.