A Personal Path to a Shared Heritage.

Like many American Jews growing up in the 1960s, I left our faith in a post-Bar Mitzvah personal diaspora. Later in life, I attempted to fill this void with new-age spiritualism and yoga. Archery and shepherd's slings led me to Dhanurveda (Archery Wisdom), an ancient Indian text. I saw that I was practicing mukta—weapons that leave the hand. Mukta is the root of moksha: liberation from samsara, the endless cycle of birth, life, death, and rebirth.

Launching arrows from my bow and tennis balls from my shepherd's slings became a metaphor for this spiritual belief. And yet, the more I studied, the more I struggled, and the void only deepened.

I turned next to my Tanakh, starting with Sefer Shmuel and the battle between David HaMelech and the Philistine champion, Goliath. It was then that I understood why I was drawn to the bow, the sling, and the staff. Thus began my return to my heritage and my faith through Shevet Binyamin—the Tribe of Benjamin. As I rediscovered the complexities of written Hebrew and began studying each letter of the words that I was relearning, the void began to fill.

Practicing calligraphy, I was drawn to five letters: Aleph, Lamed, Qof, Ayin, and Tav—strength, guidance, rotation, focus, and completion. This described my archery and shepherd's slinging. These letters also resembled the yoga postures with which I struggled. Reimagining postural stretches as these letters filled the void physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Chronologically speaking, I am a Zaken HaShevet, an elder of the tribe. I am also a beginner and approach my studies with a child's curiosity.

What follows is a personal journal, written to inspire others along this path.