Amidah at the Kotel (Standing at the Wall)

Yesterday, I went to the Kotel (Western Wall). It was a really big deal. I’d been a few times since making Aliyah (moving to Israel), but I hadn’t taken on this challenge that I keep hearing about, to go for 40 days.

“Be warned,” said one of my participants after I announced to my improv class that I had started. “My friend did that, and then she got married!”

“Is it bad for her?” I asked, terrified.

“No, it’s wonderful!”

The first few times friends told me that it had worked for them, I thought it was a weird superstition. But now I’ve been watching someone go to the Kotel every day, and suddenly she’s in a relationship.

I was waiting for the weather to be better. I turned down many opportunities to go with her, because I didn’t know what to do when I got there. But recently I bought a book about deep insights and things to think about when saying the Amidah. And the weather isn’t that great, but it’s better outside than in my apartment. So, what the heck? I went, not even knowing if I would go every day.

When I got to the security gate, there was a big line-up exiting. But going in, there was nobody. The security guard was outside, making conversation with people. He asked where I’m from.

“Canada,” I said.

“Toronto?” He asked.

“Yes, actually!” He had been there, and seemed enthused about it.

“How are you?” He asked me.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“If you’re good, I’m good!” I had heard him say that to another woman a few minutes ago.

Once I realised that I was at the security entrance to the Kotel, and not just lost and being approached by some friendly Israeli, I went in.

Later, when I left, there was no line exiting. But there was a line going in. I walked along it, and it lasted for almost a five-minute walk. It was long. I somehow managed to avoid all of that.

Because it was such a big deal for me to go to the Kotel, I was expecting a lot of weird coincidences and cool things to happen. It’s a good idea to expect that anyway when you’re in Israel.

I got to the women’s side, and pulled up a chair near the Wall. I pulled out my book and finished reading the introduction. Some questions to ponder. Then I got out my Siddur (prayer book) and found the page. I was going to read the Amidah. In Hebrew. I don’t think I’ve ever read it in Hebrew before.

“Amidah” means standing, and it’s called that because you’re meant to stand for most of it. It’s also called “the Silent Prayer,” because you’re meant to hear yourself but nobody else should hear you. Another name for it is “Shmonei Esrei,” which is Hebrew for 18. It’s called that because there are 19 brachot (blessings), and 7 on Shabbat — but who’s counting? It’s a long prayer, probably about 20 minutes.

I stood up to begin. The first instruction in the choreography is to take three steps forward. Despite being surrounded by people, there was exactly enough space for me to take three steps toward the Wall, with only one person in front of me.

Some of the phrases were familiar to me, and I could read them in loud-enough-but-silent confidence. Most of it I stumbled through in my broken Hebrew. Around me must have been a group from Africa. They were fervent in their prayers, loudly crying out for things they and their community needed. I was curious what the woman next to me was saying, but I couldn’t make it out, especially since I was trying to get through this Amidah. I really wanted to be right up to the wall, not having this row of women in front of me.

Finally, the woman beside me who was directly at the wall finished her supplications. She rose up to put her paper into the wall. I got excited, ready to pounce when she leaves. I’m finally going to be up front! She kept reaching and trying, and the paper must have not been staying in. This was taking a long time. Meanwhile, another woman came up from the other side and starting inching towards her. When she finally left, the other woman immediately filled the spot.

So I stayed in my spot, and I kept praying. Then, later, and without any adieu, a woman to the right of me left, leaving a space. I grabbed it! Which is to say, I moved forward. I was now up against the wall, no intermediary between us. I could speak right to it. I turned the page in my Siddur, and the next bracha was this: Rebuilding Jerusalem. I prayed for a rebuilt Temple, and the Davidic kingdom, and a restored Temple service — right after I got to be directly at the wall.

Behind me was another woman, possibly waiting to take my spot. Someone nearby was swaying, I couldn’t tell who, but I was caught up in the sway.

By the way, there’s a part where I can pray for anybody who’s sick and in need of healing. If you want me to say your name, let me know.

And then, suddenly, the woman behind me disappeared. And the next part of the Amidah was this choreography: Take three steps back. I looked behind, and despite there being people beside and around me, there was exactly enough space for me to take three steps backwards.

When I went to the Kotel, I was expecting unexplained coincidences to happen. And I was not disappointed.

You might think that it’s because I was looking out for such things, that I subconsciously caused them to happen, or that I paid more attention than I would have if I was not specifically looking out for cool things. If so, my advice for you is this:

Expect weird and cool things to happen to you. Take note when they do.

If you do this, your life will be a lot more fun.

Or we could be wrong. Maybe it only happened because I went to the Kotel.

Anywhom, I’m off to the Kotel now!