My Kind of Shabbos

For the first time since post-op day 1 of my appendectomy about seven months ago, I let the whole day go by without getting dressed.  While not quarantined and usually itchy for an outing, that did not happen with yesterday's shabbos.  Shul is closed.  The Rabbi sent some insights electronically during the week, none worthy of college level literary analysis.  I had read my usual four on-line commentaries on Thursday then made some special effort for shabbos dinner Friday.  Shabbos came and went.  I did not miss shul.

It was my intent to take the month of February away from my synagogue, a rare occurrence with a five shabbos leap year February.  It was not to be, as I had agreed to a Torah reading one shabbos and had Yahrtzeit the final shabbos that month.  March brought new obligations.  When I skip shul intentionally, it is usually purposeful, needing a respite in some way, though maybe with a residual sense of remorse.  When kept away as a public health measure, my absence transforms to the right thing to do that weekend.  I didn't miss the experience at all, now over two consecutive shabbatot.

So what did I do instead?  No car.  I've already given up going to stores on shabbos, though not driving to shul or to parks or museums.  Watched TV, big screen, Roku streaming of Nat Geo Wild.  Sports had all been cancelled.  Listed a short while to WRTI, the regional classic station.  Looked at possible recipes for Pesach.  And read about a quarter of the Book of Ezekiel.  I had started this a few weeks back on Sefaria, the online compilation of Jewish sources.  But with the computer off limits for shabbos, I retrieved the JPS translation of the Tanach and read chapters 24-36, where the tone changes from vengeance against Israel to future redemption.  God is just not a real flattering persona in that book, which may be partly why I have enjoyed reading it.  This one is appropriate to college level literary analysis.

I napped a lot.  Washed the milchig dishes as I used them.  Took some things off the kitchen floor to more suitable places.  And most importantly, did what I should do more, asked myself periodically what is the best thing I should be doing for myself right now?  It was not going out, getting into street clothes, sitting on a chapel chair wondering why shul evokes flashbacks of Hebrew School, or watching a sporting event on big screen TV.  It was some sorely needed time with myself.  That's shabbos.