After taking a month long hibernation from the routine of weekly blogging on my journey of self-discovery in Judaism, I found myself feeling more than slightly depressed … I was absolutely horrified with myself. For the entirety of last semester, while having the best of intentions, I was going about the concept of adopting a religion as my own in entirely the wrong way. Somewhere between deciding that, after exploring multiple other religious venues, Judaism was the religion for me and beginning the process of becoming Jewish, I had turned Judaism into a sixth academic course.

Each day I would set aside an allotted space of time for my studies, reading information and taking notes until my hands cramped up. But while religion is, to a certain degree, a form of practice that demands understanding, it is not centered on comprehension. There’s a reason why Jewish families start off educating their children practically from birth; the purpose is so that by the time the child has reached a more mature age (seven or eight, I suppose), Judaism is something that comes to them like second nature. The history of the religion, the customs/traditions, and the way of life to live by are all key elements. But the overall point of being religious is that core of belief that is so frustrating to grasp onto when you’re a person who has come from nothing (in a religious viewpoint).

So really, I’ve had it all wrong and find myself newly determined to walk towards Judaism on a slightly different path. I was letting my brain get in the way and it became my obsession to soak in and memorize all the information and background that came with the religion. Essentially, I have to become more like a seven year old; I need to sit back and soak it all in very slowly and in a relaxed manner. I have to grab hold of that untainted faith of a child, close my eyes, and simply allow myself to believe. The rest, undoubtedly, will follow.