January/February 2021
As we enter this new moon and this month of Shvat, I’m reaching for all the things that help me stay connected to life, to purpose, to the north star of liberation and healing for everyone. In this moment of acute upheaval, nestled in a wider time field of collapse, I also find it harder to hold onto the practices that steady me, while knowing this is when I need them the most. How do we show up right now? How to start a new month or even a new day? How do we resource ourselves for the work that is being asked of us?
The deepening and widening and strengthening of networks of collective care is one of the things that keeps me buoyed in this time. When I begin to fall into a pit of despair, overwhelm or fear, touching into these practices and work recenters me, makes me feel my right size and the right amount of vulnerability in the spinning world, and invites me not just back into the present, but connects me to a long history of mutual aid, this bountiful life giving river of collective healing. I find that participating in (or even sometimes just hearing about) radical networks of care gives me real joy, makes me glad to be alive, and helps me love humans again. I’m not just talking about big deal projects, I’m also/especially talking about the life saving magic of friendship, text threads/meal sharing/wisdom webs between sick and disabled folks, networks of care and support for trans asylum seekers, spontaneous minyans and virtual Kaddish calls when a friend’s parent dies of COVID, people working to get books and resources to incarcerated folks, intergalactic childcare collectives. Holy holy holy, these miracles we make with each other.
Jewish tradition holds that the month of Shvat is when Spring begins to stir underground, when the sap starts to wake up and flow. On the full moon of this month, we observe the holiday of Tu BiShvat, the birthday or new year of the trees. Shammai (the one who liked to light the Hanuka candles going from 8 the first night to 1 the last night) believed Tu BiShvat began at the first sliver of moonlight, while Hillel (the sage whose Hanuka practice went viral: 1 candle first night, increasing to 8 on the last) declared it to be on the 15th, under the full moon. Both feel right to me, so why not declare the entire month of Shvat a month of tree love. It’s always a good time to honor and love trees.
Trees are some of the greatest teachers of interdependence and collective care. The Talmudic sages knew this: “All trees converse with one another; all trees converse with humankind. All trees were created for human companionship.” (Breishit Rabbah 13:2) Science sages also says this: trees talk to each other and share resources, creating generous flow from the trees with abundant resources to the saplings or sick trees who are less resourced. Trees speak in the language of sap and sugar, through mycorrhizal networks, sharing underground stories about what they are experiencing (drought, insects, disease) so their tree friends can respond and protect themselves. Trees also teach us about staying connected and respecting each other’s boundaries (here’s more about “crown-shyness”) and all the beautiful ways we can keep each other safe (here’s a video about plant defense).
Jewish tradition is a tree tradition: our spiritual knowledge is mapped onto the body of a tree, one of the names for the divine is “Holy Apple Orchard”, and we call our sacred text, “a Tree of Life.” In our tradition, people are also trees:
For in truth a person is called “a tree of the field,” as it is written, “the tree of the field is human,” except that the human is an upside-down tree. For a tree’s root is sunk below in the earth, but a person’s root is above, for the soul is their root, and that is from Heaven. And the hands are the branches of the tree, the legs are branches on branches, the body is the trunk.
Netzach Yisrael 8:27
The sacred symbolism of the tree that runs through Jewish tradition may have roots in the worship of Asherah, an ancient Canaanite mother goddexx whose devotees (including many Israelites) found her under trees and kept statues of tree- femmes in their homes. There is also an abundance of Jewish wisdom and lore about the power and potency of specific trees: pomegranate – a tree of kindness and mitzvot (righteous actions), apple – a tree of holy love, cedar – a tree that holds sacred space and protection, willow – a tree of grief and sorrow, and the almond (which I wrote about here a few months ago) – a tree of vision and renewal. Many years ago, I made 13 Jewish tree essences and got to go really deep with each tree in text, folklore, in magic and ritual, and in medicine.
One of the trees I’ve been thinking about a lot is the Alon Bachut, the Weeping Oak, also called the Tree of Lamentation. In Vayetzei, after Yaakov and his family safely arrive in the Land of Canaan, it is written: “Devora, Rivka’s nurse, died, and was buried under the oak below Beit El; so it was named Alon Bachut (The Weeping Oak).” (Breisheet 35:8) Not much is known about Rivka’s nurse, Dvora (not the same Dvora who was a righteous judge who hung out with palm trees) and not much is written about the Weeping Oak, but I think about all the times I’ve cried in the arms of trees, all the ways trees stand as sacred witness, and how much we need public, collective sanctuaries for grieving. Imagine a holy tree we all gather around to weep, a place we can go to name and remember the dead, an orchard of public ritual for collective trauma. I also think about this story of Jakob Silberstein, who hid from the Nazis in a hollowed out stump of a birch tree and survived. I think about the birch forests of Eastern Europe, those luminous trees full of eyes, watching and holding the memory of genocide and trauma. Some even say the souls of the dead rest in these trees, their eyes placed on the trunks of the birch.
This month I plan on orienting to trees, in some way, daily. Practicing even 10 minutes a day of feeling myself as a tree, letting a tree hold me and my grief, talking and listening to the trees, learning about mutual aid and interdependence from trees, freaking out about how they do this miraculous thing of turning light into food, and just simply noticing the exchange of breath between us that keeps us all alive. In a time of so much loss, so much terror, and so much work to do, I’m rooting into radical tree love for deep connection and resource.
Below are more resources- practices, music, & writing for the month of Shvat, and upcoming stuff.
UPCOMING
JEWISH PROTECTION MAGIC : a 3 part workshop series
I am thrilled to be offering this 3 week series on Jewish Protection magic through Herban Cura
Thursdays March 4th, 11th, 18th 5:30-8:30pm EST
Sliding scale: $72-$333 (for all three)
In this three week immersion, we will dream deep into the rich lineage of protection magic from throughout the Jewish diaspora, from ancient times through the present. For thousands of years, Jews have woven rituals and remedies for protection against sheydim (often translated as “demons”) and ayin hara(evil eye), enlisting the support of plants, amulets, sacred symbols, ritual, prayer, and texts. We will learn about ancient boundary magic and protective blessing practices, look at potent protection amulets, from incantation bowls to hamsas to mezuzot to pockets full of garlic, and discuss ways we can integrate some of these practices in our lives. As we reconnect with and re-enliven these ancestral traditions of protection, the prayer is that we can divest from harmful practices such as policing, militarism, and borders so that we may cultivate a sense of grounded presence, solidarity and collective safety.
Workshops will be recorded if you cannot make that time or want to learn at your own time/pace. Classes will be mostly knowledge sharing with slideshows, a hearty break mid-class, and some small group time.
To register or for more info, visit Herbancura.com
A portion of proceeds will go to the Trans Asylum Seekers Support Network
TREE WORK FOR SHVAT
Tree time ~ Be chosen by a tree near you, in a park, on your street, in your yard. Court this tree like you would a lover or friend- bring offerings, listen, spend time together, hold their trees hands, hug them. Feel for where the sap is beginning to flow in you. Lean your back against a tree. Bring some leaves or branches you find into your home and set them on your altar, hold them in your hands. Read about trees and people who love and fight for trees like Wangari Maathai and these QTs from Queer Nature. Go on a virtual trail walk in the forest from your bed or couch.
Breathe with trees ~ Trees breathe our breath, and we breathe theirs. This miraculous exchange of carbon dioxide and oxygen literally gives us life. The psalmists say: Kol Haneshema t’halal Yah/Every living thing breathes and praises The One. Spend time simply exchanging breath with a tree and feel how just breathing is a form of praise.
Make a tree essence ~ making essences is a practice of radical intimacy, and one of my favorite ways to connect with a plant. Though many places in the world right now are still in deep winter, one can always make a tree essence. Here are some instructions for making an essence – there is a recording of me talking through essence making at the end.
Tree writing/thinking prompts ~ What am I rooting into? Are my connections mutually nourishing? How do I tend to myself while also staying connected and flexible? What supports do I need to grow and heal? How can my own healing nurture more connection and collective healing? Where do I feel sap flowing?
Tu BiShvat Seder ~ The Kabbalists found inspiration in the tax holiday of Tu Bishvat and dreamed up a decadent fruit-based ritual that moves us through four stages and four elements, represented by drinking different ratios of red and white wine/juice and eating symbolic fruits. You can learn more about creating your own Tu Bishvat seder here; and I imagine there are many online offerings from various communities. Jews on Ohlone Land will be hosting a Tu BiShvat seder workshop to explore Jewish cultural earth-based heritage, how to be in solidarity with the peoples Indigenous to this land, the significance of living in diaspora and stewarding the land we are on. “What does it mean for many of us to live as Jewish settlers on stolen land? What can we learn from the ways Jewish and Indigenous histories of genocide are similar, and from our vastly different experiences of continuity of place?” It is open to everyone.
Support ROOTING RESISTANCE in Palestine ~ There is a long, painful history connecting the holiday of Tu B’Shvat with zionism, occupation, and tree planting in Israel/occupied Palestine. Consider donating money to plant a tree in Palestine through Rooting Resistance/Palestine Fair Trade Association or through MECA/Stop the JNF.
SHVAT DREAMING
Resources and inspirations for Shvat
Beautiful writing on the serviceberry and growing an economy of abundance and interdependence by Robin Wall Kimmerer
Dive into the torah of abolition. Here are a couple good pieces to start: Transform Harm’s abolition resource and Critical Resistance’s “Abolish Policing”
Uplifting and amplifying Black joy and pleasure : schedule an appointment to see Tourmaline’s art show Pleasure Garden before it closes!
Connect with local mutual Aid projects and learn more about mutual aid!
Nourish your heart and mind-body at Let’s Talk About it: Transformative Justice During the Apocalypse, a fireside chat with Leah Lakshmi Piepzna- Samarasinha and Ejeris Dixon, authors of Beyond Survival.
Playlist for Shvat
- Alabar quiero a Dios (The flowers’ debate) ~ traditional Jewish Moroccan song for Tu BiShvat about flowers debating about how they praise the Divine, sung by Rina Benabu-Benarroch
- Yeranen ~ Iraqi song for Tu B’Shvat
- Di Verbe ~ a sweet Yiddish song about a willow tree
- Tree of Life ~ beautiful chant from Yael Illah
- Khamishar Asar ~ by Balkan Sephardic songwriter/singer Flory Jagoda, about the Yugoslavian tradition of collecting 15 kinds of fruit for Tu BiShvat
- Those who Sow ~ from psalm 126 (Let My People Sing)
- Erez v’Ezov ~ a song about plants (by me!)
- Tu BiShvat Niggun ~ gorgeous song for the month by Batya Levine
- More Jewish folk songs about trees
Sending so much love, sap, and blessings through the invisible network of mycelium connecting us,
Dori
