In Jewish tradition, Shabbat is a time for pausing from daily strife, to break bread, to give thanks, to appreciate the gifts we have been given. Come sunset on Friday to sundown on Saturday, we are offered precious time with ourselves, with one another, with the magic of a divinity we will never be able to fully explain but which blesses our lives daily. Work is set aside and contemplation embraced. As my husband says when I get crazed with tension at the end of a work week – it’s Shabbat, baby. It is a great reminder to me to chill.
I am not Jewish by birth, but I have learned of the beauty of Judaism’s many traditions through friends and through those with whom I work. Shabbat is one of those traditions with which I find great affinity. Song, prayer, good food play a part as does the remembrance of those who need healing and those who have passed away.
Remember to sigh. Take a breath. Say I love you. Cherish the memory of a loved one. Watch the sunset. See the butterfly. Smell the rose. Remember to sit a spell and look around to all you have been given. It lives in the garden, in the friendships and family we have, in the miracle of the hand that enables us to plant a flower.