Our next guest blogger, Ken Hillman, has become a dear friend. He had a student in our religious school. He now teaches in that very religious school, serves on the education committee, the prayerbook subcommittee and chairs our tikkun olam committee. He and I often spend Sunday mornings on our way to the synagogue, debating the issues of the day—global, national or very local. Recently he attended a KickStart training session where he had the opportunity to study with master liturgist and poet Alden Solovny. What Ken’s poem is really talking about is finding joy in belonging, in having friends:

I’m in.

I am here and I am in.
This was just not some arbitrary accident of birth nor rationalizing my sense of worth
Nor a flimsy tentative act of faith shaken by scientific evidence of the age of the earth.
Taking action for a friend who wants me to transcribe the reasons why even though I know not what tribe…

I’m in.

I’m in
the stories I’m in the  book
Im in the history
I’m in my goodly tents
Chosen and blessed
And blessed and Cursed

I’m lost but I know where I am

I’m here.

I’m here.
I’m here and it’s quiet

The outside quiet broken up by the staccato sounds of life and ritual, The musical cacaphony quietly blanketing The insanely loud sound of nothingness… it is the quiet of the nothingness that I fear. Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow nothingness I will fear no nothingness… but I search for somethingness something something I cannot concentrate/it’s just too quiet in here

It’s quiet
It’s quiet and I am afraid.
I am afraid that my nothingness speak up and expose me. I am afraid that might unmask show itself to be emptiness. I am afraid of emptiness.

I am afraid
i am afraid but I am not alone
I open my eyes and I see it is always light.
I look around and see my fight

To keep my nothingness from turning into emptiness

I find myself surrounded by those with whom I share
My journey my searching my soul to bare
I adorn myself in ritual and find myself rising above the din

Nothingness.

I’m in

I’m here and I’m in

Ken Hillman