The Search

The great Rabbi's meditation was interrupted by his grandson's mournful cry.
"What happened?' he asked the child.
"My friends and I had started to play hide and seek; so I was well in hiding. But then they just ended up playing something else and no one came looking for me!"
As the Rabbi calmed his humiliated grandson, he murmured "Now we know how G-d feels".
G-d is hidden; Divinity is concealed. And we are born to search.
We don't live in a world that shouts Holiness and morality.
When I wake up in the morning, my instinct isn't "Wow! G-d constantly gives me life and has given me another day. I matter; I have a purpose in this world, and I need to use the gift of another day to live my destiny!"
Nope.
As I open my eyes, my day's responsibilities strike me first.
Then I begin to work on my consciousness.
I start to train my mind and frame my day. I pro-actively guide my mindset toward seeing the world for its meaning. I want to see the world for its purpose and beauty; to see the light in my surroundings.
In other words: I begin to seek G-d's presence in the world.
So I work on my mind and heart; it's my morning psycho-spiritual workout.
We call it prayer; and it's a process of discovery.
First, I need to still my mind. I need to disengage from my 'outer world', and its distracting static, before I enter my inner dimension.
It isn't easy.
Then, the liturgy guides me – through 'prayer therapy' - to important point; I can feel an appreciation, a deep need, for Oneness (symmetry, purpose, wholeness) in my life.
And I call out 'Shema Yisrael (Judaism's ancient proclamation of G-d as the Oneness of life)!'
In my little world, I've found Him. And myself.
So we're both elated.
 In Jewish spirituality, we call the Shema the daily call of the Shofar, because the piercing blasts evoke and articulate our deep-seated need for meaning.
As we approach Rosh Hashana, try to say the Shema and hear the Shofar every day.
We need it.
 And we don't want G-d to cry.