The Mysterious Zohar

I have been attending a four part series at my synagogue called "A Taste of Great Jewish Books," led by my rabbi and designed to let us sample major Jewish texts aside from the five books of Moses. The first class on other parts of the Tanakh was interesting, but the next two classes on Talmud and midrash were absolutely incredible and engaging and totally stimulating. They kept my brain firing long after the class, and fueled me to continue studying them. This kept me excited for the final class on the Zohar, and even more so because I'm fascinated by the idea of Jewish mysticism and spirituality and couldn't wait to learn a bit more about it. It seemed like something I would connect really well with.

Well, it wasn't quite as I imagined. It was really, really tough. I felt stupid reading it, and that's not a comfortable feeling, though it's a feeling I can manage.

As much as I love reading and writing, I'm very into narratives. They can be imaginative and creative and fantastical, but they're still narratives. Less concrete and linear works have always been difficult for me, even as they intrigue me. In English classes, I always loved lectures and class discussions on poetry, for example, because I could take something that was a total mystery and begin to understand it. It was ripe with "light bulb" moments facilitated by someone comfortable and expert in the subject. But if I were to sit with it myself and just have someone ask me, "what symbolism do you see in this? what is this saying? what does it mean?" I may very likely have a blank look. This is very often true with visual arts as well. I need help breaking it down, and often just need it spelled out for me, at which point I am thrilled to "get" it. I don't do abstract so well. Or rather, I don't do abstract very well in the art world - I certainly seem to be very strong with it interpersonally, such as in my profession. I can handle and wrestle with and analyze and build on emotional and psychological complexities with ease, but with any art form, I am totally out of my element and need a strong tour guide.

I feel disappointed that I couldn't get into the Zohar tonight, but relieved by the fact that many people in the room seemed to be struggling. I'm comforting myself with the hope that this doesn't necessarily mean this is not something I can get into (because I really thought I would!), just that I need to spend some more time with it, and receive more help around it, to understand and grasp and find meaning in it.

One piece we read tonight referenced Torah as a teasing, seductive woman whose lover (you) keeps coming back to her window in the hopes that she will reveal just a little more of herself, which she does. Tonight might be the first time I have felt the opposite of that - I strolled by her window and disappointingly saw only a shadow, and left frustrated. But I am persistent and a committed lifelong lover and will still keep coming back.