Passover begins tonight. Ruth and Chris and liam and I cleared the last of the hametz (puffed up food, symbolic of ego and pride) out of the pantry and fridge earlier today. Tonight as the doves coo and the beautiful bereezy spring day winds down, I think about spiritual hametz, the stubborn self-importance that clings and sticks in the corners of my essence and which I persist in examining and trying to purge each year at Passover. I really believe that my personal freedom, freedom both to enjoy life and to do good works is impaired by extra spiritual hametz, so the clearing is important, but difficult. Real is better than perfect, in this as in everything else. Perfect isn't going to happen.
Hametz
No matter how many
springs I sweep out crumbs
of puffed up self importance
I still want to be seen as special,
need to be needed, want to
control choices and outcomes
that are not my own, yearn for
safety, wish life were fair.
No matter how many years
I sweep out crumbs, crumbs remain.
That is why, come spring, I take
broom in hand and sweep again.
Victoria Hendricks, March 27, 2010
2 comments:
Such a powerful and meaningful poem, Victoria. I am another who keeps sweeping and sweeping. Perfect will not happen here either!
Victoria, Lovely to read about the starting of passover and the tradition, done as a family, of cleaning out the pantry. I appreciate your reflection on the meaning (so true, and well expressed!) and the poem that so fittingly describes the ongoing process.
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