There Was No Period Blessing, So We Wrote One
By Tori Luecking
Tori Luecking is a lover of all things Jewish spirituality. She lives to have DMCs (deep meaningful conversations) with others about Jewish learning, prayer, and vibrancy. She is a former Hillel professional and student of the Pardes Institute in Jerusalem, where she took classes in Women in Judaism and Talmud. She thinks armpit hair is beautiful, loves Anita Diamant’s The Red Tent, and envisions a world in which women feel empowered to connect with their inherent Divine Spark every day. On the weekends you can catch her playing darts with her S.O. or writing content for her poetry Instagram, @zaharapoetry.
My late-teens and early twenties were full of the typical “adulting” questions: “How do I budget money?” “When should I get my tires rotated?” “What exactly is a pap smear?” Oh, and of course, the totally casual, “What does it mean to be a Jewish woman?”
Yeah, that last one came as a surprise to me too.
I had always considered myself actively engaged in my Judaism, but it was during college that I started to expand my idea of how it related to my life.
This exploration was first sparked during a freshman year Humanities course in which we read The Red Tent, by Anita Diamant. While reading this book, I had a realization. It went a little something like this:
“Woah wait. I’m not just Jewish. I’m a Jewish WOMAN. Mind. Blown.”
For the next few years, this realization stirred in the back of my mind while I navigated my newfound adulthood and all of the life lessons and anxieties that came along with it. At times, this period of growth took its toll on my physical form, and I started to take notice of my body’s functions, reactions, and cravings. I began to listen to my body and in doing so, found a sense of awe in everything it had to offer, from lungs that constantly overcame asthma, to beautiful dark body hair, and most notably for me, my menstrual cycle.
The fact that I menstruate had always, to me, been associated with my identity as a woman, but it was never deeply significant to my personhood. Only after I tuned into my body did I stop seeing menstruation as a passive process. Jewish people have a tradition of interacting mindfully with the body. This can be seen in ritual hand-washing, immersing in the mikveh (ritual bath), reciting the Asher Yatzer blessing after using the restroom, using certain movements during prayer, and many other examples. I found that being a Jewish woman meant actively engaging with my body, especially the aspects that felt connected to my womanhood.
I became mesmerized by my menstrual cycle.
The way that it informed and reflected my emotions and physical sensations seemed to connect me to something greater than myself. I was overwhelmed by the fact that so much of my life has been and will be spent bleeding, not the blood of a wound, but instead, what I came to identify as a holy blood of renewal. My body was literally shedding the old to make way for the new. With this new perspective I felt enveloped by the Divine Presence and compelled to express my gratitude for a body that bleeds a deep rich red, and in doing so, physically links me to nature’s cyclical rhythm.
I was motivated to engage with and give thanks for my menstrual cycle, and wanted to do so in the way that my Jewish ancestors had given thanks for thousands of years: in the form of a bracha, a blessing.
I knew that Judaism had hundreds of blessings — blessings for eating food, seeing the ocean, encountering sickness, and even building a fence (which I have yet to do, but you never know) — so I figured I would just ask my rabbi for the blessing one says at the onset of menstruation. He didn’t have one. I went to my other rabbi; she didn’t have one. I went to Rabbi Google and she had lots of rituals, poems, and essays on Jewish menstruation...but where was the bracha? You know: “ Baruch Atah Ad-nai; Blessed are You our G-d Who…” If it was out there, it was hiding.
I desperately wanted to honor my period, (aka. My Red Queen) in the way of my tradition, but I wasn’t seeing what I wanted. I soon learned that the traditional canon of brachot (plural of bracha) does not include a menstruation bracha. There are a few different interpretations as to why this is the case. Some argue that it is because menstruation is associated with the loss of potential life, and therefore with death, which does not historically warrant a bracha in traditional Judaism. Others argue that it is because the traditional brachot were written by men in ancient times, and to menstruate was not their experience.
No matter the reason behind the lack of a traditional period bracha, I was determined to find one. I had heard that there was a bad@$$ Jewish women’s health and wellness organization in California called At The Well. I sent them an email asking if they had a bracha that I could use. Within twenty-four hours I received a call from the organization’s founder, Sarah Waxman.
“We don’t have one, but would you like to inspire one with us?”
That question set into motion two years of energizing work in which women from all over the At The Well network studied, discussed and dreamed together. I had the immense pleasure of interviewing multiple women from various Jewish backgrounds and traditions, with differing practices, ideas, and values:
How did they feel about menstruation?
Were they taught that it is shameful or something to be celebrated?
How did they engage, if at all, with blessings?
What wording spoke to them most?
Did they want to pray in Hebrew?
How did they relate to The Divine?
The goal was to gain as much information as possible so that our final product could be created with multiple perspectives in mind. We wanted it to be accessible, relatable, community-driven, and above all, holy.
The result was the At The Well period bracha, lovingly crafted by Hadar Cohen, ATW Shechinah Council member, Talmud scholar, Jewish mystic, feminist artist, and community-organizer, and me. Over the course of two months, Hadar and I poured our energy into each word of the bracha, both in the Hebrew and English forms, letting the insight from our interviews and the deep desire to meet this precious need guide our writing.
We are honored to now share our completed bracha.
It is meant as a gift to our menstruating bodies and all of the beautiful complexities they come with. We hope that the words of this bracha bring forth an awareness of the body’s holy energy for all who recite it, and that it strengthens the sacred bond that exists between one’s menstrual blood, their soul, and the Divine.
I like to think that maybe one day I will live in a world where someone somewhere is always praying this bracha, and that collectively we will speak into existence a constant mindfulness of life’s cyclical nature and the Divine Spark within all people.
I am so thankful to Sarah Waxman, Hadar Cohen, and the entire At The Well community for watering the seeds of this project. When I sent that initial email to the organization, I never could have dreamed that this is the journey that would have unfolded — a journey of incredible spiritual growth, learning, visioning, and creating — all of which are processes that ultimately, I have realized, are also part of what it means to me to be a Jewish woman. The creation of this bracha is itself worthy of blessing.
On the nights that I go to sleep with a heavy body, tired from renewing itself, and a throbbing in my lower abdomen, I pull the warm covers up close to my face and expel a deep sigh of relief. I know that in the morning my blood will make herself known to me and that I will lovingly welcome her back and give thanks to the Divine One, with our bracha, for the beautiful gift that is my period.
Click HERE to access the bracha, as well as some suggestions for recitation, and additional discussion questions.