#synogogue

D-Day services at Congregation Emunath Israel on West 23rd Street, June 6, 1944.

For over a year I've been talking about going to synogogue and learning Hebrew and getting in touch with my Jewish roots and ancestry. But then I dont do these things. I make plans to do them and then talk myself out of them and make excuses not to even though these are things that I do want to do. I daydream at work about going tl synogogue and converting and having a place where I belong. I know logically that Judaism and temple aren't going to fix my problems, but in my head I can pretend it can, and yet, despite my fantasy of Judaism fixing everything wrong in my life, I still find reason not to go.

I think part of it is how Ive lived most of my life Pagan and am very Pagan in many of my beliefs. As much as I feel the right thing for me to do is get in touch with my ancestors' culture, I also feel like a liar and like I'm turning my back on the gods and goddesses I've been praying to for years.

But I also haven't felt spiritually fulfilled in a long time. I haven't been praying to my Mother Gaia or doing the things that have me closer to my deities in the past and I feel dirty from the lack of spiritality.

Via Flickr

Our third day in Prague started off with the ritual search for coffee, and once again, we passed by a few places to which we returned on another day that turned out to be great. Instead, we found one place that sucked and so we did our best to wash that experience away by heading off to a guidebook recommendation wringing our hands with hope. The Bakeshop, it turned out, features great coffee and baked goods, including mohn, the filling made from poppy seeds that makes me giddy with memories of my childhood.