Clique.

The more I learn, the less I know.-someone who probably knew more (or less?) than me
; Voltaire I think.

Nearing the end of T3M this summer, we discussed what we had learned in that two week class. My head was jam packed, but when it came my turn to talk about what I had learned; I put two fingers barely an inch apart and said simply "about this much."

And it's true, I have so much more to learn. Every little thing reminds me.

As I sat in my little Reform Shul's little Shabbat Shachrit minyan minus 1, I tried my hardest to pray. I generally concentrate on my prayers but recently I've found my mind drifting at all times, apparently (and most unfortunately) prayer included.

I lack a familiarity with the usual minyan there.

For this reason, I find myself missing those minyans at Kutz, even the minus 8 minyan once. They taught me a lot; they kicked my Jewish identity up and down the long beaten path; they shaped my own minchag; they changed the way I looked at prayer. I miss those early morning minyans.

I also miss Israeli dancing. Celebrate Shabbat in the most touristy American fashion we can: "super chouette!" I loved it, just watching was enough to keep me exhausted. i loved that song sway like a palm tree though, I danced once or twice to it.

But I digress, I want that kol echad sort of feeling I had in that pagota back here. It's a lot to ask and daily davening cannot be replaced by one Shabbat minyan a week, it just can't. But at one point during our little Reform/Recon service, somewhere between readings from Heshel, from Kol Haneshama, a Recon Aleinu and saying Kaddish with nine people present, I felt such a familiarity rush back to me that I prayed a prayer that wouldn't usually be a prayer as loud as the Hazzan if not louder.

Tsadik katamar yifrach Ke'erez bal'vanon yisgeh.

Every week we say it, every week I'm the loudest. It just feels right to me, the message, the melody, everything.

I've been singing it all day can't get it out of my head, so when I got home just a few minutes ago, I looked it up. Thank you audio searches. But for some reason, I couldn't find a lyrical version. This frustrated me, my favorite psalm and no lyrics? Bah.

But the third non-lyrical version hit a switch. That familiarity switch: I know this song! This prayer is the Israeli dance song I love! Of course sway like a palm tree!

The righteous man will flourish like the palm tree!

This makes all too much sense all of a sudden, but this loosely based coincidental realization just leads back to the beginning of this post.

If I didn't know this about my favorite psalm and favorite dance tune, what else don't I know? Even such a simple thing had slipped my notice, who's to say more important things haven't? Of course they have, this post would be a waste if the only thing I was thinking about was this psalm, there's just one more thing on my mind. One more thing that the internet doesn't have to know; one more thing that no one but myself has to know. For now at least.

So, if there are two things to be learned from this, (1) never stop nearing, you won't know nearly little enough, and (2) sway like a palm tree.