Prayer in Judaism: If you've got a minute, can we talk?

I had such a fabulous and meaningful Shabbos this past week. I was fortunate to be surrounded by some of the most loving and positively influential friends I've made over these last nine years. Some of them I've known for a long time, while others I've only just recently met. It was incredibly moving (at times overly so!) to be able to thank so many people who have been an integral part of my journey toward wellness, a college degree and foremost, toward greater spirituality...






...which brings me to my next topic of interest: 

Throughout our lives, one of the most significant areas we can develop and cultivate is our ability to relate. Humans by nature desire relationship; it's not part of the journey, it is the journey. We long to connect and modern technology has provided countless measures of doing this: cellular phones, internet, travel and transportation, media, art, music, religion, etc. And yet, even with ample means by which to relate, in reality we live in a world of great disconnect. Even though we have the tools and power to communicate worldwide in an instant, many of us would likely say we have at times, if not often, felt lonely, isolated and disoriented. 
My desire for increased Jewish education and observance began when I was very young--maybe twelve or thirteen years old. On my own, I read any books I could get my hands on, tried to make sense of it and when possible, asked questions. For all intensive purposes, my learning (and subsequently my observance) really increased after meeting other observant Jews in, of all places, the pacific inland northwest. It's not been a linear process by any means. Changing and/or creating habits is a challenge. Taking on more than one is ready for can lead directly to feelings of frustration, failure and discouragement. Additionally, I often felt challenged by the sense that I just didn't "feel" it. Regarding certain practices and halachas (Jewish laws), I wasn't feeling it. How could I keep kosher if I didn't feel it? How could I keep Shabbos if I didn't feel like doing that? And then there was this other "issue" that until recently, I thought was completely separate from practice and observance: I didn't consistently feel connected to G-d. Sure, it was easy to make Shabbos when I did feel connected, but what about the times I didn't? Shouldn't I feel intensely connected to G-d at all times? Then and only then would everything else "fall into place."  Inevitably this created a cycle of moving in one direction and then another, back to one, then the other. It felt disorienting, isolating and oftentimes lonesome. I'd begin to think I had some personal defect, that I'd failed. And at some point a few years ago, I even went so far as to try to convince myself that I didn't want to have a relationship with G-d because I had enough relationships in life "down here" that were challenging, difficult or scary. 
Interestingly enough, I never stopped praying. Even in the times I'd actively try to avoid it, these conversations automatically and unfailingly still occurred. It would catch me by surprise in moments of intense fear, exhaustion or even joy that I'd find myself talking to G-d. In 2010 when my health began to suffer to the point that I could no longer hide the symptoms or the associated emotions I was experiencing, I turned to some of the dear friends who accompanied me this Shabbos. I also turned to G-d. I stopped looking at my struggles as punishment for transgressions and started looking at it more as G-d proverbially tapping me on the shoulder as if to say,  

"Hey, if you've got a minute can we talk?"

Now I allowed the conversation to happen without specific expectations, without a need to be in a control all of the time and with firm resolve that I didn't even want to know or control what would happen. How did I get through three days and over six hours of being inside an MRI machine? I prayed. How did I calm myself through hours of waiting in exam room for test results? I prayed. And the months of sleepless hours? Every minute would have been unbearable if I hadn't prayed. And from this, I have found the following:

1. I didn't (and don't) always feel it. Not in synagogue, not at home, not on the road. But sometimes I do and it's intense and incredible. It's a feeling I've had and revisited on occasion from the time I was a very small child sitting on the bimah with my preschool class looking out past the empty shul at the sun shining through the stained glass windows: I am never alone.
2. My relationship with G-d is just like any relationship in that I don't always feel the same level of intensity or energy in our conversation and interaction. That's pretty normal!
3. That said, my relationship with G-d is different from any other relationship I have in that He is always wanting, willing and waiting to connect with me with full intensity and energy--each moment of each and every day.
4. Action sometimes precedes motivation: Slowly and continually, I take on more learning and observance. Some practices come very naturally to me right away: for instance, the Kriyas Shema recited at bedtime was instrumental in helping me to calm down and stay calm through many months of struggle and even still comforts me during occasional bouts of insomnia. It is a seemingly natural part of my bedtime routine. Other aspects of practice have required me to "just take the plunge," so to speak. One example of this has been keeping the laws of kashrut in my home. After my grandfather passed away in November (may his neshama be blessed), I decided to stop letting fear of failure keep me from making this change and to kasher my kitchen in his merit and memory. I took small and manageable steps toward achieving this goal and can honestly say that with time, study and practice, I have not only felt that it is attainable and maintainable, but I have also found it to enhance my feelings of connectedness with G-d.
5. It's not all or nothing! Each mitzvah I do is a means to connect with G-d. What I've not learned or accomplished yet does not take away from what I have learned and accomplished thus far. With G-d's help, I will continue to grow and self-refine. This is every Jew's and every person's life work.

I had a really unique conversation over Shabbos with some friends. I am so inspired by their journeys toward learning and observance; they each have a unique and individual strength in this process that will not only benefit them but will cultivate their individual abilities to touch those around them. During our conversation I came to a realization: no longer does a single day go by that I don't feel connected and in relationship with G-d. I do not feel disoriented, lonely or isolated. Through this, I have enhanced and strengthened my human relationships; as emotional as saying 'goodbyes' can be, I see inherent beauty and value in having connections to people that are strong enough to hurt a bit when they change. Furthermore, even in times of upheaval and change, I can count on conversation with G-d. Prayer for me is the ultimate antidote to almost any uncomfortable emotion. It infuses my daily activities--from the mundane to the most significant--with gratitude, hope and the comforting realization that I am never alone.