So, I’m in this Maggid training program…a Maggid is baaasically a Jewish “people’s preacher,” folklorist, court jester, storyteller teacher. It’s an ancient job that somebody decided needed to be revived in the world, and it’s pretty freaking awesome. I’ve been battling it. I didn’t know I would be; I thought it would be as natural as breathing for me.  It feels right – very right – but I’m fighting every step of the way.  I think *because* it is so right, I’m having to ask myself a lot of difficult questions. I am fighting my own old patterns.

But that’s ok, because I’ve got magic boxing gloves. and I’m winning.

It’s shabbat…ok…in like an hour or so…and I’m not sure I’ll go to shul.  I may sit with my Torah and wrestle with these words.  Oddly enough, the hardest thing so far for me is the etymology part of this course.  My ego is like “WTF. WORDS R US. THIS IS NOT HAPPENING.”  but … it’s true. I’m struggling.  struggling in that i don’t even want to pick it up and do it.  at all.

I’m thinking when I find out what this resistance is and break through it, I’m going to get passionately involved.  I am thinking I am maybe *afraid* of that.  I can get pretty intense…but have stayed away from that side of my nature since Juilliard. Maybe it’s time to learn how to harness that, and stop fearing the storm.

All this is making me wonder: do we sometimes fear our own power? Do we pull ourselves back, rein ourselves in, water ourselves down, silence the hunger and drive, stay mild, stay mediocre…stay safe?

Maybe it’s time to put on my big girl gloves and fight again.