I used to be a devout person. I walked around with God’s presence on my shoulder; I loved praying and I rejoiced in my spiritual life.
Many years have passed since then, and behold, standing before my Creator in prayer is no longer a ‘must have’, but more of a ‘when, exactly?’ I know, I know , it’s supposed to be a priority, but I slipped, I stumbled, and here I am, praying once a month. In the nude.
I’m exactly the kind of woman you’d expect to go to mikvah. You might guess that by my dress: comfortable, covered up, scarved. But did you know that I’m a feminist? And chassidishly inclined? And that kabbalah has a comfortable place in my home alongside gentle environmentalism? And did you guess how this all achieves its perfect union in the mikvah?
O mikvah, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways!