Last evening I got on a video call with my cantor friend for one of our weekly chanting sessions. One of my choices was Va’ asu li, a song drawn from Exodus. It speaks about the Jews wandering in the desert and about building a holy place in which to lie. The melody is simple and comforting, and ends with a climbing three-note series that follows me wherever I go. While we were chanting, a white tent appeared in my mind with me lying inside it. If I opened my eyes, I could see white fabric around and above me. In my mind, I was lying there, quiet and relaxed.
The sense of reassurance lasted as long as our chant. When we finished, I needed to retain the feeling Va’ asu li had awoken in me, so I wheeled myself through the kitchen and asked Eric to push me out. When I got on the deck, I sat behind the fence and looked at the green, fresh grass and the blooming lilacs while the song played endlessly in my head. And my body was full of peace.
The sense of reassurance lasted as long as our chant. When we finished, I needed to retain the feeling Va’ asu li had awoken in me, so I wheeled myself through the kitchen and asked Eric to push me out. When I got on the deck, I sat behind the fence and looked at the green, fresh grass and the blooming lilacs while the song played endlessly in my head. And my body was full of peace.