A Conversation with the Author
Why did you write this book?
I have found mindfulness practice to be a way of living my life that helps me to stay balanced, to sense the presence of God in the world, to open my heart to other people and I sense that Jewish practice and thought helps me to be mindful.
Who is the audience?
I believe that this book will appeal to thoughtful Jews who are interested in deepening their own spiritual lives, to those Jews who are curious about the intersection between Jewish - and particularly Hasidic - spirituality and mindfulness practice, and to non-Jews who are interested in mindfulness practice and curious about how it expresses itself in Jewish life.
Is this book a "how to" of Jewish living?
No, it assumes a certain familiarity with Jewish life and practice, as well as a willingness to engage directly with Jewish texts. On the other hand, I do invite readers to engage in meditation as a practice to enhance their Jewish lives, and root mindfulness practice, supported by meditation, in Jewish practices and thought.
What distinguishes this book from other books on Jewish spirituality?
My intention in this book is not to create a population of Jewish mystics. I do not feel that one has to believe in or hold the classical mystical views of the cosmos to live a mindful Jewish life. Rather, I hope that in offering texts and perspectives that are not well known to the general public I will encourage people to look again at the richness of Jewish life as a spiritually engaging practice.
What is the most challenging idea in your book?
I believe that it is the classical mystical/Hasidic view that there is nothing but God, that there is an alternative to the sense of the world in some manner existing outside of or separate from God. When God is no longer “Other,” when we exist “in” God with all of creation, our actions gain in significance, and God is more deeply felt as partner, rather than opponent.
Why do you rely so heavily on Hasidic texts to illustrate your points?
It has been my experience that Hasidic spirituality, particularly as it is reflected in these texts, speaks directly to mindfulness practice. I have been able to suggest ways in which mindfulness practice is supported by all of Jewish life. So, for me, and I hope for the reader, these Hasidic texts will open a door back into mindful Jewish living.
When did you first start meditating?
My first experiences were in a yoga class that I attended with a high school friend. I found it interesting, and I practiced on my own for a period of time, but I did not sustain the practice. At that time I was involved in a different path, one that was in a way quite counter-cultural: making Jewish living my spiritual path. Over the course of time, the interest of congregants drew me to investigate meditation for myself – and so that I might lead them. This inclination deepened after I met Sylvia Boorstein, and I found that our spiritual hearts beat in synch, sharing spiritual interests in Judaism and mediation although weighted differently. I have been practicing meditation in support of my mindfulness practice since 1996.
What will a reader come away with from your book?
A sense of curiosity about mindfulness practice. A new appreciation of Jewish living as a spiritual path. Excitement at the prospect that God might be alive in their life. Interest in practices that might help to keep their heart open to themselves in the midst of confusion or pain, and toward others in moments of confusion, success or failure. A desire to connect with other people, to participate in Jewish communities where these interests and concerns are expressed.
Isn't there a tension between Judaism, which is concerned with social justice, with the good of the whole, and meditation and spirituality, which is focused on the individual and his or her inner life?
I think that is a false dichotomy. I believe that mindfulness practice may make us more able to engage effectively in socially responsible action. The classical western (and contemporary Jewish) view is that right and wrong are always clearly opposed one to the other. To work for the good is to be in contention with the bad, seeking its destruction or elimination. The bad always threatens the good (and so, us) with annihilation. It is ultimately impossible to sustain that effort, leading to fatigue, cynicism, fatalism and apathy. Mindfulness practice helps us to be aware of the inner conflict, to respond to our own suffering with compassion so that we might more effectively and wisely respond to the bad. Mindfulness, and so Jewish living, leads us back to social engagement in a way that is hopeful, energizing, liberating and connecting.
Is this really Jewish? Isn't it just Buddhism in Jewish terms?
It is true that the fundamental teachings of mindfulness come from Buddhism. But, they are secular, “scientific” teachings about the nature of mind and the habits of the heart. I believe that in this book I have found sufficient evidence that our Jewish teachers through the ages shared these perspectives, even if they presented them in different forms. It is clear, reading the texts I have presented, that mindfulness is indeed an integral element of Jewish spirituality.
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