Many people mistake openness for trust. They think that if you are open with them, if you are friendly and happy and seem to enjoy being around them, you trust them with everything that you are.
Not so. It is my personal experience that the people who are trusted most are the ones who actually disclose the least. Such people are keenly aware of the power they have over others, should they choose to exercise it, and never want anyone to have such power over them.
For such a person to trust someone else is to choose to be vulnerable, to choose to expose one's flaws and weaknesses to another's eye, in effect, to choose to grant another power over them. It is the butterfly choosing to alight upon someone's hand, knowing that should the hand clench it will be utterly lost. This choice is not made lightly, but only after much thought and consideration.
People who are trusted by others are often surrounded by other people; they have a network. They weave a web, as it were, binding together the people they know to create a more beautiful design. At the same time, they have very few confidantes, very few true friends. There are different levels of friendship, as it were, or at least there are different kinds. There are friends of the heart, friends of the mind, and friends of the soul. Friends of the heart are those where the friendship is based on feelings and admiration of the goodness of a person's heart. One respects the person for his kindness toward others, his warmth and friendliness, traits that emanate from the heart, but that are not necessarily related to his intelligence or ability to think. Friends of the mind are those who amuse and entertain one another with witty conversation and discussion, friends who are on the same wavelength, who challenge and intrigue one another. And friends of the soul are the rarest kind; these are people who have a good heart, a keen mind and whom one truly trusts. These people intuitively understand you and accept you; their very existence is enough to make you happy. You can speak to them as you truly are, without being conscious of how you appear or how you present yourself. As this is the most meaningful friendship one can form, it is also the most dangerous, for it entails allowing the other person to really know you. But it is just that sharing that makes this friendship the most rewarding.
To trust another person is to share yourself with them, to tell them of everything that makes you the person that you are, to speak of what is good in you and what is bad, to admit, to confess. To trust another person is to ask them to listen, to ask them to truly see. To trust a person is to silently ask them to look for the good in you, to find what is worthwhile, to accept you for what is best in you. To trust is to expose oneself and believe that the person you have chosen to trust is worthy; he will not betray you, but will understand.
The one who is trusted never feels worthy of the gift that has been made him, this sudden disclosure by another. He wonders why he was chosen; he views this as a responsibility. It rests upon him to be the person the other sees him as being, to listen to the person's story and accept him for who he is. It then lies upon him to advance the person, to help him to grow. At times this is a burden, and the one who is trusted is despondent. But this is balanced by the times in which one succeeds in comforting another, in making the world a little brighter.
Each person is a world; each person's private griefs and troubles have meaning. To be trusted by another is to have been chosen as the one permitted entrance to this world, the wanderer in hidden places. To trust is to hold the door open, to welcome another to your domain. And as the two of you wander through your world, if the trusted person performs his task correctly, you realize that it is not as dark as it once seemed, that there are patches of green overtaking the bramble thicket, that winter has receded in favor of summer. The two of you transform your world until the person who chose to trust you looks up at you with shining eyes and all the love he can possibly give you. And the one who was trusted feels ashamed and unworthy of this, for the truth is that the potential was there all along; the person who chose to trust you only needed someone to believe in him, someone to make him see what he truly was.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Soup & Bones
A true story
authored by Dustfinger (my gorgeous, talented, fifteen-year-old sister)
*
As soon as I walked through the door that Friday afternoon, I was greeted by delicious aromas wafting through the air. I went upstairs, put my backpack down, and rolled up my sleeves. Time to prepare for Shabbos.
I walked into the kitchen, and looked at the list. Every Friday, my mother usually makes a list of things that still need to get done before Shabbos. The list was not too bad; it only consisted of about 15 to 20 chores that required completion. I didn’t have to do all of them either. My twin brothers and sister thankfully assisted me.
As the music played, and the cabbage soup steamed, and the food cooked, and the hustle and bustle of us workers continued, my mother called me over.
“Dustfinger,” she said, as she stirred some pot on the stove. “Can you please throw the leftover soup from the black fridge into the toilet? It’s old, and I need space in the fridge. Please wash the pot afterwards.”
“Sure,” I replied. I ran downstairs, brought the soup up, and took off the cover. It was mushroom barley. What a pity, I thought as I emptied the contents of the pot into the toilet. Such good soup. Oh well. I washed the pot.
Preparing for Shabbos carried on until my father and brothers, in their crisp black suits, left for shul. My sister and I gathered into the dining room, and watched our exhausted mother recite the blessing over the Shabbos candles.
“Good Shabbos!” we all exclaimed to one another. Hectic, annoying school and our ‘getting ready for Shabbos’ ordeal was finally left in the past for a while. All there was then was a quiet peacefulness that settled onto the *insert surname* household.
Before long, my father and brothers were knocking at the door, forcing all the ladies to halt on their reading and relaxing on the couch. We proceeded in singing Shalom Aleichem and Eishes Chayil from under the great sparkling chandelier in the dining room. The candles twinkled, the goblets filled with grape juice and wine waited, and the room was cheerful.
Soon, the delicious Breadsmith challah was sliced and salted, and the mouth-watering cabbage soup was served by my sister and I. The family eagerly sipped at the soup, and before long, the soup bowls were collected.
The main courses were brought out, including steak, a favorite of everyone’s, and we all helped ourselves. No one had really noticed that my brother had politely excused himself from the table.
Before any divrei Torah had been shared, or Zmiros sung, my brother returned to the table with a frown on his face.
“Daddy,” he said awkwardly. “The toilet’s not flushing.” With that, my father and brother left the table, while the rest of us resumed eating our scrumptious Shabbos meal. Several minutes later, my brother re-joined us.
Suddenly, my father’s incredulous voice rang out amongst the cheerful table. “Did someone flush bones down the toilet?!”
There was a horrific silence. Bones? Human bones? What? My brother looked terrified, wondering if in the process of relieving himself, he’d lost a few bones.
It was then when realization of what my father meant struck.
“Oh my gosh,” my mother gasped, gaping at me. “Dustfinger, did you flush the soup bones down the toilet with the rest of the soup?”
“O-o-oh my G-d!” I stammered hopelessly, in my mind banging my head against the wall, as Friday afternoon reappeared to me. “I think I did!”
You can imagine what the rest of Shabbos was like. Well, despite that one toilet was out of order on my account, luckily there were four others, so needing more toilets was not an issue. The issue was that I should have been more careful, checking the soup for larger ingredients to remove before disposing the rest. Till this day, only toilet paper goes down those toilets. What about soup? On some occasions, like when there’s only broth and beans, perhaps. Otherwise, into the sink or garbage it goes. You know why.
authored by Dustfinger (my gorgeous, talented, fifteen-year-old sister)
*
As soon as I walked through the door that Friday afternoon, I was greeted by delicious aromas wafting through the air. I went upstairs, put my backpack down, and rolled up my sleeves. Time to prepare for Shabbos.
I walked into the kitchen, and looked at the list. Every Friday, my mother usually makes a list of things that still need to get done before Shabbos. The list was not too bad; it only consisted of about 15 to 20 chores that required completion. I didn’t have to do all of them either. My twin brothers and sister thankfully assisted me.
As the music played, and the cabbage soup steamed, and the food cooked, and the hustle and bustle of us workers continued, my mother called me over.
“Dustfinger,” she said, as she stirred some pot on the stove. “Can you please throw the leftover soup from the black fridge into the toilet? It’s old, and I need space in the fridge. Please wash the pot afterwards.”
“Sure,” I replied. I ran downstairs, brought the soup up, and took off the cover. It was mushroom barley. What a pity, I thought as I emptied the contents of the pot into the toilet. Such good soup. Oh well. I washed the pot.
Preparing for Shabbos carried on until my father and brothers, in their crisp black suits, left for shul. My sister and I gathered into the dining room, and watched our exhausted mother recite the blessing over the Shabbos candles.
“Good Shabbos!” we all exclaimed to one another. Hectic, annoying school and our ‘getting ready for Shabbos’ ordeal was finally left in the past for a while. All there was then was a quiet peacefulness that settled onto the *insert surname* household.
Before long, my father and brothers were knocking at the door, forcing all the ladies to halt on their reading and relaxing on the couch. We proceeded in singing Shalom Aleichem and Eishes Chayil from under the great sparkling chandelier in the dining room. The candles twinkled, the goblets filled with grape juice and wine waited, and the room was cheerful.
Soon, the delicious Breadsmith challah was sliced and salted, and the mouth-watering cabbage soup was served by my sister and I. The family eagerly sipped at the soup, and before long, the soup bowls were collected.
The main courses were brought out, including steak, a favorite of everyone’s, and we all helped ourselves. No one had really noticed that my brother had politely excused himself from the table.
Before any divrei Torah had been shared, or Zmiros sung, my brother returned to the table with a frown on his face.
“Daddy,” he said awkwardly. “The toilet’s not flushing.” With that, my father and brother left the table, while the rest of us resumed eating our scrumptious Shabbos meal. Several minutes later, my brother re-joined us.
Suddenly, my father’s incredulous voice rang out amongst the cheerful table. “Did someone flush bones down the toilet?!”
There was a horrific silence. Bones? Human bones? What? My brother looked terrified, wondering if in the process of relieving himself, he’d lost a few bones.
It was then when realization of what my father meant struck.
“Oh my gosh,” my mother gasped, gaping at me. “Dustfinger, did you flush the soup bones down the toilet with the rest of the soup?”
“O-o-oh my G-d!” I stammered hopelessly, in my mind banging my head against the wall, as Friday afternoon reappeared to me. “I think I did!”
You can imagine what the rest of Shabbos was like. Well, despite that one toilet was out of order on my account, luckily there were four others, so needing more toilets was not an issue. The issue was that I should have been more careful, checking the soup for larger ingredients to remove before disposing the rest. Till this day, only toilet paper goes down those toilets. What about soup? On some occasions, like when there’s only broth and beans, perhaps. Otherwise, into the sink or garbage it goes. You know why.
Monday, September 17, 2007
No, I Am Not a Feminist
I have considered investing in a piece of cardboard upon which I can marker, in proud Sharpie letters, "Spare me the apologetics." I will then attach this piece of cardboard to my forehead and wander around school receiving confused and subsequently horrified looks.
I do not know why the majority of people instantly assume that if you think about Tanakh and you are female, you are probably angry about the Torah's portrayal of women. I have not opened my mouth about women, I have not mentioned the fairer sex, I have not hinted in any way that I am distressed over the Matriarchs, and nevertheless Rabbis, teachers and fellow students go off on long elaborate rants about how women are just as equal as men, desperately engaging in some form of apologetics to stave off what they must see as being my imminent transformation into an angry rhinoceros, charging them down with my outstretched tusk.
But I am not a rhinoceros, I am not charging, and I have no desire to do so. Indeed, I have absolutely no idea why this is expected of me. When I mention that actually, I'm quite okay with the Torah's depiction of women, they step away from me warily. "Are you sure?" they ask tentatively, still waiting for me to breathe fire. And when I don't, and continue to ask my original question, they look as though they're about to cry in relief.
I don't see it. Am I really so rare? Are all Modern Orthodox females biblical feminists, holding their Bibles over their head as they angrily confront their Rabbis? Am I a traitor to my gender? I don't think so. But if I am, I suppose I will have to grin and bear it. Chin up and so forth.
The fact is that I quite like our female characters. How can I not like them? We have our Matriarchs, fascinating and flawed people, Dinah, whose claim to fame is the massacre that ensued in her name, Osnat, who is theoretically Dinah and Shechem's daughter, Tamar, who pretends to be a harlot, Miriam, a prophetess who leads the people in poetic song, On's wife, who saves her husband's life through combing her long tresses outside her tent, Queen Attaliah, our legendary murderess, Jael, who murders Sisera with a combination of her feminine charms and a tentpeg, Queen Jezebel, mistress of deceit, Deborah, who scornfully laughs at the man who relies on her and helps him to victory, Judith, who cuts off Helifornes' head, and so on and so forth.
So no, the argument that women are underrepresented or viewed in a condescending fashion doesn't work well for me. Tanakh is full of fascinating women. Many of them are seductresses (can we ever forget the wily Delilah? And consider the fact that Tamar and Jael both achieve their ends through similar means), some are prophetesses, several are warrioresses; many of them fulfill several functions. Women's roles are not confined or flattened in Tanakh; they are large and expansive. Women are not constantly victims; indeed, one of the few cases when a woman is a victim occurs by Tamar, and then Absalom avenges her lost honor. Women are characteristically wise and sly (the Wise Woman of Tokea, whom Joab hires to convince David to receive his son is a perfect example, as is the unparalleled Queen of Sheba) and have many excellent qualities at their disposal. Women are characterized as being wise, sly, gutsy (consider Tamar's challenge to Judah, "Identify, if you please..."), beautiful, sensual, decisive, resourceful (consider Tzippora's hurried performance of milah on her son with a nearby sharp stone), moral (the women refuse to donate their earrings to the cause of the Golden Calf), jealous (consider Sarah's reaction to and subsequent treatment of Hagar), clear-sighted (Rachel's understanding that Jacob was to have the blessings, not Esau, an unusual departure from the idea that it is women who are blinded by love.) Women are strong, powerful; they are queens, often evil queens (Jezebel and Assalya) and tricksters, liars or deceitful as it suits them (for these last consider Delilah and Jezebel, who hires false witnesses to procure a vineyard for King Ahab.)
Ah, you will now caution me, but leave aside the female characters. The problem is with the way women are treated! Look at the consequences of rape; why are women not valued more highly? Why is a woman worth less (monetarily) than a man? It's not fair! It's unequal! It's brutal, immoral and barbaric, and Chana, you ought to be upset about it!
Really? Some of the points you raise are good ones. I am bothered by the idea of rape in the Torah; I also have not studied it well enough to truly raise the question. But there are many ideas that bother me in the Torah; why should this one be more significant than other ones? And I certainly am curious about the inheritance laws, and I understand why you would be unhappy with the idea of an agunah when the man always has an option of marrying more than one wife, or that the lady must perform chalitzah. Yes, these are all excellent questions. But is this reason for me to get upset? Shall I go attack the Rabbis now?
I have heard all sorts of reasons for why women are not obligated in the full 613 mitzvot, as men are. Most of these are soft forays into the realm of apologetics. "Oh," someone coos to me, "women are on a higher level than men. Therefore, they don't need the full 613 mitzvot in order to come close to God! Men, those beasts (she doesn't actually say this, but that's the insinuation) need to have their passions controlled and regulated for them; hence they have more mitzvot." This is when girls invariably start crying out that they want to put on tefillin and a tallis and other good things like that and start citing sources that don't even exist about Rashi's daughters (I've never seen a satisfactory source on this one.) I have no problem with girls putting on tefillin, not at all! Go ahead! But don't start telling me that I ought to feel unequal and that I need tefillin to make me equal. That's simply ridiculous.
Our society is obsessed with equality meaning sameness. You have a purple shirt; I have a purple shirt, but they have to be of the same cut, make and brand. You're a guy and wear tefillin; if I want to be equal, I have to do the same. This is ridiculous. I'm a girl; there are differences between us, and simply stating that there are not won't make it so. I freely admit that the majority of the guys I meet are stronger than I am. This doesn't mean I can't break their wrists if I feel like it and have enough of an opportunity (Tae Kwon Doe is useful) but guys come in immensely useful when it comes to lugging my boxes up the stairs. I will break my back and probably tumble down the staircase and lie on the ground in a shriveled heap; my cousin needs only to get a firm grip and can easily stow my box in my room.
Then it comes to women's megillah readings, women's selichot and egalitarian siddurim. I don't know the halakha on this, so nothing I have to say comes from halakha. But once again, I feel similarly; if you want to have a women's megillah reading, go ahead! But why do you look at me as though I am a brainwashed lunatic if I prefer to attend a traditional megillah reading where I get to hear my father lein? As for egalitarian siddurim; I personally find these to be amusing. Are you honestly going to make me feel better if we both say "she'asani kirtzono" instead of your saying "she'lo asani isha?" Now you're going to tell me that the only reason I'm not a fan is because I've never tried it. Not so! I spent a Shabbat with my Conservative cousins (amazing people, by the way; there are many Orthodox Jews who could benefit from imitating them) and was in the awkward position of having to accept an honor at their shul. This sweet old man who was ninety-two or so wouldn't take no for an answer. So I reluctantly went to open the aron. Imagine! Me, a girl, opening the aron! Who would have dreamt it? Was there some sudden and wonderous thrill, some spark of connection to God as I pulled the curtain aside? No, there was not...I am telling you that there is absolutely no reason to covet the honors and the aliyot and whatever else the men supposedly "get to have" that the women don't get to have.
Of course, now we get into different territory- the motivation behind the desire to act the biblical feminist. Do you truly want to serve God and become closer to God through your wearing tefillin? That is one thing; in that case, kol hakavod! Please, wear tefillin! If this enhances your prayer and you are better able to serve God, that is wonderful. But if you simply want this because the men have this, I think it is silly. A Rabbi of mine (whom I respect) once referred to women's minyanim as reminding him of little children playing house. It's not real, but they are children playing pretend and it makes them happy! So we will humor them. You are going to tell me that that was condescending. Yes, I suppose it was. It doesn't make it less true...
We are different! That is the truth! Men and women are not the same. And equal doesn't mean treating us the same! Firstly, I don't think equality is necessarily something to strive for. But supposing it is, equality doesn't mean sameness. We have different tasks, different functions, different ways of serving God. Why must I covet your task? Why must you covet mine? Why must I feel the lesser because your task supposedly entails more than mine? I don't comprehend.
I am simply not angry. I'm really not! I am lucky enough to be living in 21st century America, where I am able to learn Torah, which makes me happy. So I'm glad I missed the portion of time where we had the various people fighting about whether women could even learn Torah or Gemara; that is one battle I would have fought. But after that, what else do I need to fight for? I am comfortable; I am happy. I don't view the mechitza as a deliberate device to separate me from my brothers because I am lesser, somehow flawed. Why would I think so? It is simply there per halakha during davening. Now, I do get annoyed if I have to sit behind drawn curtains when the Rabbi gives his speech, as that has nothing to do with halakha, and I want to hear the speech as well. That's when I start feeling like I have been relegated to the backseat, and I would protest. Thank God, I don't go to such a shul, so I have no problems in this area. I am very lucky.
I am very glad that women have the right to vote, are theoretically paid equal salaries to those of men and enjoy the advantages that America has to offer us. I am also glad that nearly everyone understands that women are quite able and capable of learning the Written and Oral Law. But beyond this, I see no reason to get all excited. Also, I'd like to be treated as a lady! Hold doors open for me, as you would for anyone; that's simply being civil. And as to the black guy wearing the "I Flip the Bird At You" t-shirt who gave up his seat on the subway to give it to me, I think he's wonderful! Maybe he gave it to me because I was a girl, in which case, that's great, too! Do you think I mind? I don't mind! I should always find such people who are willing to give me seats on the subway!
And don't let me walk alone in areas of New York that aren't safe for those of the female gender! You're not doing me or any lady any favors if you do! You should always escort a lady to her car if it's dark outside and the neighborhood is not particularly safe; that's the only courteous thing to do.
There are differences between men and women, both religiously and physically, and it is simply silly to deny those differences, and what is more, claim that we are the same when we aren't. There are some areas in which men do have different privileges or advantages over women, and good for them! There are some areas in which women outdo men as well! Must it all be a rivalry? I really see no need. I will tell you something even more heretical; I really miss the guys in my class. My English class was brilliant when I had the guys there; they simply have a different way of thinking than many girls. Aside from which, they would always make class entertaining! That's another thing; I don't mind off-color jokes or teasing, so long as the comments are made in fun; I don't get all uptight about these things. If I did, I would never have enjoyed AP Euro as much as I did...you really miss a lot in life if you get upset about this kind of thing! There's so much to simply enjoy; must we waste time taking everything personally, taking every comment seriously, defending women from the innocent comments of joking classmates? There is a limit, of course, but you'd be surprised as to where that limit is...Oh, you can't imagine the discussions I had in Art class; there was one girl in my school who was a rabid feminist and she frightened me. The guys and I had a very good time joking around; any comments were always made in good fun, but if she happened to overhear them, we were all in for a lecture...
So no, I am not a feminist! I have never been a feminist! I doubt I will ever be a feminist! You should enjoy and make good use of your women's selichot and your women's megillah readings and egalitarian siddurim, but please don't expect me to join in and fight alongside you! I simply don't see the need, and there are so many other things I need to be studying; I really don't have the time to spend on this. Let me finish my Rabbi Kanarfogel homework, please God, and maybe then I will be able to hear you describe why it's so unfair that this one or that one won't support your women's megillah reading...
The loveliness of it all is I'm sure you are looking down at me right now and saying, "Oh, poor girl, so brainwashed; she is to be pitied!" But I wonder, I really do; who has more fun, me or you?
I'm the one having the party here!
I do not know why the majority of people instantly assume that if you think about Tanakh and you are female, you are probably angry about the Torah's portrayal of women. I have not opened my mouth about women, I have not mentioned the fairer sex, I have not hinted in any way that I am distressed over the Matriarchs, and nevertheless Rabbis, teachers and fellow students go off on long elaborate rants about how women are just as equal as men, desperately engaging in some form of apologetics to stave off what they must see as being my imminent transformation into an angry rhinoceros, charging them down with my outstretched tusk.
But I am not a rhinoceros, I am not charging, and I have no desire to do so. Indeed, I have absolutely no idea why this is expected of me. When I mention that actually, I'm quite okay with the Torah's depiction of women, they step away from me warily. "Are you sure?" they ask tentatively, still waiting for me to breathe fire. And when I don't, and continue to ask my original question, they look as though they're about to cry in relief.
I don't see it. Am I really so rare? Are all Modern Orthodox females biblical feminists, holding their Bibles over their head as they angrily confront their Rabbis? Am I a traitor to my gender? I don't think so. But if I am, I suppose I will have to grin and bear it. Chin up and so forth.
The fact is that I quite like our female characters. How can I not like them? We have our Matriarchs, fascinating and flawed people, Dinah, whose claim to fame is the massacre that ensued in her name, Osnat, who is theoretically Dinah and Shechem's daughter, Tamar, who pretends to be a harlot, Miriam, a prophetess who leads the people in poetic song, On's wife, who saves her husband's life through combing her long tresses outside her tent, Queen Attaliah, our legendary murderess, Jael, who murders Sisera with a combination of her feminine charms and a tentpeg, Queen Jezebel, mistress of deceit, Deborah, who scornfully laughs at the man who relies on her and helps him to victory, Judith, who cuts off Helifornes' head, and so on and so forth.
So no, the argument that women are underrepresented or viewed in a condescending fashion doesn't work well for me. Tanakh is full of fascinating women. Many of them are seductresses (can we ever forget the wily Delilah? And consider the fact that Tamar and Jael both achieve their ends through similar means), some are prophetesses, several are warrioresses; many of them fulfill several functions. Women's roles are not confined or flattened in Tanakh; they are large and expansive. Women are not constantly victims; indeed, one of the few cases when a woman is a victim occurs by Tamar, and then Absalom avenges her lost honor. Women are characteristically wise and sly (the Wise Woman of Tokea, whom Joab hires to convince David to receive his son is a perfect example, as is the unparalleled Queen of Sheba) and have many excellent qualities at their disposal. Women are characterized as being wise, sly, gutsy (consider Tamar's challenge to Judah, "Identify, if you please..."), beautiful, sensual, decisive, resourceful (consider Tzippora's hurried performance of milah on her son with a nearby sharp stone), moral (the women refuse to donate their earrings to the cause of the Golden Calf), jealous (consider Sarah's reaction to and subsequent treatment of Hagar), clear-sighted (Rachel's understanding that Jacob was to have the blessings, not Esau, an unusual departure from the idea that it is women who are blinded by love.) Women are strong, powerful; they are queens, often evil queens (Jezebel and Assalya) and tricksters, liars or deceitful as it suits them (for these last consider Delilah and Jezebel, who hires false witnesses to procure a vineyard for King Ahab.)
Ah, you will now caution me, but leave aside the female characters. The problem is with the way women are treated! Look at the consequences of rape; why are women not valued more highly? Why is a woman worth less (monetarily) than a man? It's not fair! It's unequal! It's brutal, immoral and barbaric, and Chana, you ought to be upset about it!
Really? Some of the points you raise are good ones. I am bothered by the idea of rape in the Torah; I also have not studied it well enough to truly raise the question. But there are many ideas that bother me in the Torah; why should this one be more significant than other ones? And I certainly am curious about the inheritance laws, and I understand why you would be unhappy with the idea of an agunah when the man always has an option of marrying more than one wife, or that the lady must perform chalitzah. Yes, these are all excellent questions. But is this reason for me to get upset? Shall I go attack the Rabbis now?
I have heard all sorts of reasons for why women are not obligated in the full 613 mitzvot, as men are. Most of these are soft forays into the realm of apologetics. "Oh," someone coos to me, "women are on a higher level than men. Therefore, they don't need the full 613 mitzvot in order to come close to God! Men, those beasts (she doesn't actually say this, but that's the insinuation) need to have their passions controlled and regulated for them; hence they have more mitzvot." This is when girls invariably start crying out that they want to put on tefillin and a tallis and other good things like that and start citing sources that don't even exist about Rashi's daughters (I've never seen a satisfactory source on this one.) I have no problem with girls putting on tefillin, not at all! Go ahead! But don't start telling me that I ought to feel unequal and that I need tefillin to make me equal. That's simply ridiculous.
Our society is obsessed with equality meaning sameness. You have a purple shirt; I have a purple shirt, but they have to be of the same cut, make and brand. You're a guy and wear tefillin; if I want to be equal, I have to do the same. This is ridiculous. I'm a girl; there are differences between us, and simply stating that there are not won't make it so. I freely admit that the majority of the guys I meet are stronger than I am. This doesn't mean I can't break their wrists if I feel like it and have enough of an opportunity (Tae Kwon Doe is useful) but guys come in immensely useful when it comes to lugging my boxes up the stairs. I will break my back and probably tumble down the staircase and lie on the ground in a shriveled heap; my cousin needs only to get a firm grip and can easily stow my box in my room.
Then it comes to women's megillah readings, women's selichot and egalitarian siddurim. I don't know the halakha on this, so nothing I have to say comes from halakha. But once again, I feel similarly; if you want to have a women's megillah reading, go ahead! But why do you look at me as though I am a brainwashed lunatic if I prefer to attend a traditional megillah reading where I get to hear my father lein? As for egalitarian siddurim; I personally find these to be amusing. Are you honestly going to make me feel better if we both say "she'asani kirtzono" instead of your saying "she'lo asani isha?" Now you're going to tell me that the only reason I'm not a fan is because I've never tried it. Not so! I spent a Shabbat with my Conservative cousins (amazing people, by the way; there are many Orthodox Jews who could benefit from imitating them) and was in the awkward position of having to accept an honor at their shul. This sweet old man who was ninety-two or so wouldn't take no for an answer. So I reluctantly went to open the aron. Imagine! Me, a girl, opening the aron! Who would have dreamt it? Was there some sudden and wonderous thrill, some spark of connection to God as I pulled the curtain aside? No, there was not...I am telling you that there is absolutely no reason to covet the honors and the aliyot and whatever else the men supposedly "get to have" that the women don't get to have.
Of course, now we get into different territory- the motivation behind the desire to act the biblical feminist. Do you truly want to serve God and become closer to God through your wearing tefillin? That is one thing; in that case, kol hakavod! Please, wear tefillin! If this enhances your prayer and you are better able to serve God, that is wonderful. But if you simply want this because the men have this, I think it is silly. A Rabbi of mine (whom I respect) once referred to women's minyanim as reminding him of little children playing house. It's not real, but they are children playing pretend and it makes them happy! So we will humor them. You are going to tell me that that was condescending. Yes, I suppose it was. It doesn't make it less true...
We are different! That is the truth! Men and women are not the same. And equal doesn't mean treating us the same! Firstly, I don't think equality is necessarily something to strive for. But supposing it is, equality doesn't mean sameness. We have different tasks, different functions, different ways of serving God. Why must I covet your task? Why must you covet mine? Why must I feel the lesser because your task supposedly entails more than mine? I don't comprehend.
I am simply not angry. I'm really not! I am lucky enough to be living in 21st century America, where I am able to learn Torah, which makes me happy. So I'm glad I missed the portion of time where we had the various people fighting about whether women could even learn Torah or Gemara; that is one battle I would have fought. But after that, what else do I need to fight for? I am comfortable; I am happy. I don't view the mechitza as a deliberate device to separate me from my brothers because I am lesser, somehow flawed. Why would I think so? It is simply there per halakha during davening. Now, I do get annoyed if I have to sit behind drawn curtains when the Rabbi gives his speech, as that has nothing to do with halakha, and I want to hear the speech as well. That's when I start feeling like I have been relegated to the backseat, and I would protest. Thank God, I don't go to such a shul, so I have no problems in this area. I am very lucky.
I am very glad that women have the right to vote, are theoretically paid equal salaries to those of men and enjoy the advantages that America has to offer us. I am also glad that nearly everyone understands that women are quite able and capable of learning the Written and Oral Law. But beyond this, I see no reason to get all excited. Also, I'd like to be treated as a lady! Hold doors open for me, as you would for anyone; that's simply being civil. And as to the black guy wearing the "I Flip the Bird At You" t-shirt who gave up his seat on the subway to give it to me, I think he's wonderful! Maybe he gave it to me because I was a girl, in which case, that's great, too! Do you think I mind? I don't mind! I should always find such people who are willing to give me seats on the subway!
And don't let me walk alone in areas of New York that aren't safe for those of the female gender! You're not doing me or any lady any favors if you do! You should always escort a lady to her car if it's dark outside and the neighborhood is not particularly safe; that's the only courteous thing to do.
There are differences between men and women, both religiously and physically, and it is simply silly to deny those differences, and what is more, claim that we are the same when we aren't. There are some areas in which men do have different privileges or advantages over women, and good for them! There are some areas in which women outdo men as well! Must it all be a rivalry? I really see no need. I will tell you something even more heretical; I really miss the guys in my class. My English class was brilliant when I had the guys there; they simply have a different way of thinking than many girls. Aside from which, they would always make class entertaining! That's another thing; I don't mind off-color jokes or teasing, so long as the comments are made in fun; I don't get all uptight about these things. If I did, I would never have enjoyed AP Euro as much as I did...you really miss a lot in life if you get upset about this kind of thing! There's so much to simply enjoy; must we waste time taking everything personally, taking every comment seriously, defending women from the innocent comments of joking classmates? There is a limit, of course, but you'd be surprised as to where that limit is...Oh, you can't imagine the discussions I had in Art class; there was one girl in my school who was a rabid feminist and she frightened me. The guys and I had a very good time joking around; any comments were always made in good fun, but if she happened to overhear them, we were all in for a lecture...
So no, I am not a feminist! I have never been a feminist! I doubt I will ever be a feminist! You should enjoy and make good use of your women's selichot and your women's megillah readings and egalitarian siddurim, but please don't expect me to join in and fight alongside you! I simply don't see the need, and there are so many other things I need to be studying; I really don't have the time to spend on this. Let me finish my Rabbi Kanarfogel homework, please God, and maybe then I will be able to hear you describe why it's so unfair that this one or that one won't support your women's megillah reading...
The loveliness of it all is I'm sure you are looking down at me right now and saying, "Oh, poor girl, so brainwashed; she is to be pitied!" But I wonder, I really do; who has more fun, me or you?
I'm the one having the party here!
Materialists Anonymous (NY Chapter)
I had a very educational Rosh Hashana. I learned about the following New York customs:
Do you know what the Yichud room is? It is the first time that the couple is together, the first time that they are allowed to touch. They have never touched one another before, have always respected the privacy and sanctity of one another's bodies. But now they are able to touch, to truly connect with one another. How can one turn something so beautiful into something so coarse as a materialistic exchange of gifts, mandated by some code that makes absolutely no sense?
Similarly, how is it possible for a person to openly admit that if her sister were to be given a diamond ring that was larger than hers, she would be jealous; she would prefer her sister not to have something because she didn't have it? Dustfinger and I fight over many things, but we have never fought about material possessions. It would never occur to us to fight over such things. Does one measure the love of the bridegroom by the size of the diamond he bestows upon you? What lunacy is this?
To have money is no sin, but to value money above everything else in the world is.
I never was exposed to this before; I never understood this before...
- Kallah Bracelets- (Apparently the groom doesn't know your ring size, so when you get engaged, he gives you a diamond bracelet instead)
- Chosson Watches (The bride has to give the groom a fancy watch)
- Pearls in the Yichud Room (except for Sephardim)
- Cufflinks in the Yichud Room
- FLOPS (Flowers, Liquor, Orchestra, Photographs, Shaitel) is to be paid for by the groom
- The bride pays for the wedding hall
- Someone (I forget who) has to buy the groom a tallis and attara
Do you know what the Yichud room is? It is the first time that the couple is together, the first time that they are allowed to touch. They have never touched one another before, have always respected the privacy and sanctity of one another's bodies. But now they are able to touch, to truly connect with one another. How can one turn something so beautiful into something so coarse as a materialistic exchange of gifts, mandated by some code that makes absolutely no sense?
Similarly, how is it possible for a person to openly admit that if her sister were to be given a diamond ring that was larger than hers, she would be jealous; she would prefer her sister not to have something because she didn't have it? Dustfinger and I fight over many things, but we have never fought about material possessions. It would never occur to us to fight over such things. Does one measure the love of the bridegroom by the size of the diamond he bestows upon you? What lunacy is this?
To have money is no sin, but to value money above everything else in the world is.
I never was exposed to this before; I never understood this before...
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Hinneni: Here I Am
א וַיְהִי, אַחַר הַדְּבָרִים הָאֵלֶּה, וְהָאֱלֹהִים, נִסָּה אֶת-אַבְרָהָם; וַיֹּאמֶר אֵלָיו, אַבְרָהָם וַיֹּאמֶר הִנֵּנִי.
And it happened after these things that God tested Abraham and said to him, "Abraham," and he replied, "Here I am."
~Genesis 22: 1
*
We are so used to reading these words in light of knowing what the subsequent test is, that is, the Akeidah, that we forget to read the verse as it really is. While in shul on Rosh Hashana, I really read this verse and was completely amazed to realize what it could read like or could sound like on further consideration. Do you know what the verse actually seems to be saying?
God tested Abraham- and said to him, "Abraham." If you read this sentence carefully, you see that the one follows the other! God tested Abraham, and what was the test? It was that he said to him, "Abraham." The test is God's calling Abraham! It says "vayomar eilav," not "lomar." If it is, as we often assume, that the test is the Akeidah itself, the verse should read, "And it happened after these things that God tested Abraham, saying, 'Take your son...." and so forth. But that is not the way the verse is written. The statement of God's testing Abraham is followed by the actual test, this being God's call.
But what kind of test is this? What does it mean that God tested Abraham by simply calling his name, "Abraham?" And what does Abraham's answer, "Hinneni," here I am, entail?
Abraham did pass his test. He was the first person to truly respond to God's call and God's command, the first person to answer "I am here." I am here, I am present; whatever you wish of me, I will do.
Consider those who were called upon by God- and their responses. The first and most obvious place in which God calls upon man is in his sad question, "Ayeka?" Where are you?
What about the next time God calls upon man? What happens there?
How does Cain respond? Does he take responsibility for his actions, draw himself up and admit, as it were, "Hinneni?" Here I am! This is what I did; these were my actions. I killed my brother. Does Cain act in such a manner? No! He has inherited his father's flaw; in the same way that Adam was unable to defend himself before God, to take responsibility for what he had done, and passed the blame to his wife, so too Cain chooses to pass the blame to anyone but himself. "I know not; am I my brother's keeper?"
By the time God comes to Noah, he no longer calls upon people. He commands. Note the difference when it comes to his words to Noah. He no longer questions; there is no gentle question, "Noah?" There is no "Where are you?" Instead there is a command, harsh and not to be disobeyed.
When God first interacts with Abraham, he uses this same language of command. He commands Abraham to leave his country, his land.
This is Abraham's test and it is the test he passes, far more than the actual binding and sacrifice of his son. We are so enamored by this sacrifice because we forget how common it was during the time. To Abraham, such a request would not have been peculiar or frightening, as it would to us Americans. The Deity had changed his mind; he now desired the choicest of Abraham's possessions, his very son. Abraham's response was natural, even if emotionally bound to his son, he would know, in the manner that all men knew, that the Deity came first.
More importantly, and something that I somehow had not really thought about until this Rosh Hashana, Abraham had done this before! I think it is in gradeschool that we are somehow taught to minimize the depth of love that Abraham felt for his son Ishmael. Abraham loved him dearly and had no desire to cast him away, to send him out; it was only at the behest of God that he bowed to his wife's sounder judgement. At school, we are so busy priding ourselves on our descent from Isaac that we do not allow Ishmael a fair chance; we defame and malign him in order to make him seem lesser or somehow cruel. But consider Abraham's relationship to Ishmael. Yes, he was not the chosen child, the one who's birth was predicted by three angels. And no, he was not Abraham's child through Sarah, the woman he loved. But he was still his child and still beloved (do we not all know the Midrash that Abraham did not know which son to offer up till God said "Isaac" explicitly?) Abraham had no wish to send him away.
And how he sent them! He took bread and a skin of water and gave them to Hagar. True, God promised him that the child would be the father to a great nation. And certainly Abraham would believe God's word. But would it not tear his soul in two to give up his child, to send he and his mother out into the desert with the barest provisions, mere bread and water? (Incidentally, if you're reading the Torah as literature, one has to wonder whether this "bread and water" idea is similar to the bread and water idea mentioned by the angels, in which chase Hagar and Ishmael were amply provided for and ought to have had many sumptuous meals.) But according to the literal meaning, what must it have cost for Abraham to obey God and send away the woman with whom he had conceived a child and that very child, perhaps to die? Do you think this was done so lightly? No! Abraham grieved for this, even knowing that Ishmael was to father a nation; the very fact that God must comfort him "Be not distressed" (Genesis 21: 12) demonstrates how inconsolable and unhappy Abraham was.
After having sent away one son, do you not think that Abraham would have attempted to take care not to become overly attached to his new son, the child who had just been weaned (assuming you're reading this chronologically?) That would be the logical response, having just seen that God demanded that he send away a child- but I doubt Abraham responded that way; Abraham is the kind to seize life, not to create barriers for fear that they would be broken. Depending on the way you read him, however, Abraham would have become cynical and assumed that God would demand such a sacrifice of him at some point (seeing as He had already demanded Abraham's sending away one son) or he would have been truly broken by the request, since Isaac was all that he had left.
If I may digress for a moment, there are a few things I want to point out because I found them interesting:
A. Sarah tells Abraham "Cast out this bondwoman and her son." But Abraham's response is to be "very distressed on account of his son." Only his son! Not the bondwoman! God's response to Abraham suggests a rebuke, because He says, "Let it not be grievous in thy sight because of the lad, and because of thy bondwoman..." (Genesis 21: 12) God does place the lad before the bondwoman (seeing as he knows the son is more important to Abraham) but he mentions Hagar nonetheless. This reminds me a little of Moses' rearrangement of priorities by the tribes of Gad, Asher and Reuven. They wanted to stay in the land for "their cattle and their children;" Moses says they ought to stay "for their children and their cattle." The children come first. By God, God is pointing out to Abraham that he ought to be feeling distressed about his bondwoman, too.
B. If you read Genesis 21: 19 carefully, you notice a marked resemblance to an episode by Bilam.
Now compare to Numbers 22: 31.
I wonder how many things I walk right past and don't see...
All right, end of digression. It appears that Abraham's true test wasn't so much whether he would offer Isaac on the altar, as that outcome was already foreseen due to his prior behavior when it came to sending Hagar and Ishmael away. You may argue it's quite different to kill your son than to send him and his mother off into the middle of the desert. I would argue that a) for all Abraham knew, he was killing his son- he'd only given them some bread and water and sent them into a desert! Though yes, he did have God's promise and b) it might be even worse to have a son who hates you for having cast him off. This might be worse from a strategic point of view; that is, wouldn't such a son want revenge? But aside from that, the pain and guilt that one must live with every day, never knowing where his son is, what has happened to him (because if you read the literal text, not the aggadata, Abraham never interacts with him again) could potentially be worse than a known, if horrifying truth, that your son is dead (and that you killed him.)
Hence Abraham's test was how he would offer Isaac on the altar. Would he do so reluctantly? Joyfully? When called by God, would he respond "Hinneni," I am here, I am ready to obey? Or would he attempt to hide from God, as others had in the past? Abraham passed his test; when God called, he answered; when God told him to act, he acted. Abraham is God's first man-at-arms, standing at attention, ready to obey, reliable and trusted, unlike the deserters in God's past.
And it happened after these things that God tested Abraham and said to him, "Abraham," and he replied, "Here I am."
~Genesis 22: 1
*
We are so used to reading these words in light of knowing what the subsequent test is, that is, the Akeidah, that we forget to read the verse as it really is. While in shul on Rosh Hashana, I really read this verse and was completely amazed to realize what it could read like or could sound like on further consideration. Do you know what the verse actually seems to be saying?
God tested Abraham- and said to him, "Abraham." If you read this sentence carefully, you see that the one follows the other! God tested Abraham, and what was the test? It was that he said to him, "Abraham." The test is God's calling Abraham! It says "vayomar eilav," not "lomar." If it is, as we often assume, that the test is the Akeidah itself, the verse should read, "And it happened after these things that God tested Abraham, saying, 'Take your son...." and so forth. But that is not the way the verse is written. The statement of God's testing Abraham is followed by the actual test, this being God's call.
But what kind of test is this? What does it mean that God tested Abraham by simply calling his name, "Abraham?" And what does Abraham's answer, "Hinneni," here I am, entail?
Abraham did pass his test. He was the first person to truly respond to God's call and God's command, the first person to answer "I am here." I am here, I am present; whatever you wish of me, I will do.
Consider those who were called upon by God- and their responses. The first and most obvious place in which God calls upon man is in his sad question, "Ayeka?" Where are you?
- ט וַיִּקְרָא יְהוָה אֱלֹהִים, אֶל-הָאָדָם; וַיֹּאמֶר לוֹ, אַיֶּכָּה.
9 And the LORD God called unto the man, and said unto him: 'Where art thou?' (Genesis 3:9)
What about the next time God calls upon man? What happens there?
ט וַיֹּאמֶר יְהוָה אֶל-קַיִן, אֵי הֶבֶל אָחִיךָ
9 And the LORD said unto Cain: 'Where is Abel thy brother?'
How does Cain respond? Does he take responsibility for his actions, draw himself up and admit, as it were, "Hinneni?" Here I am! This is what I did; these were my actions. I killed my brother. Does Cain act in such a manner? No! He has inherited his father's flaw; in the same way that Adam was unable to defend himself before God, to take responsibility for what he had done, and passed the blame to his wife, so too Cain chooses to pass the blame to anyone but himself. "I know not; am I my brother's keeper?"
By the time God comes to Noah, he no longer calls upon people. He commands. Note the difference when it comes to his words to Noah. He no longer questions; there is no gentle question, "Noah?" There is no "Where are you?" Instead there is a command, harsh and not to be disobeyed.
- יג וַיֹּאמֶר אֱלֹהִים לְנֹחַ, קֵץ כָּל-בָּשָׂר בָּא לְפָנַי--כִּי-מָלְאָה הָאָרֶץ חָמָס, מִפְּנֵיהֶם; וְהִנְנִי מַשְׁחִיתָם, אֶת-הָאָרֶץ.
13 And God said unto Noah: 'The end of all flesh is come before Me; for the earth is filled with violence through them; and, behold, I will destroy them with the earth.
יד עֲשֵׂה לְךָ תֵּבַת עֲצֵי-גֹפֶר, קִנִּים תַּעֲשֶׂה אֶת-הַתֵּבָה; וְכָפַרְתָּ אֹתָהּ מִבַּיִת וּמִחוּץ, בַּכֹּפֶר.
14 Make thee an ark of gopher wood; with rooms shalt thou make the ark, and shalt pitch it within and without with pitch.
~Genesis 6: 13-14
When God first interacts with Abraham, he uses this same language of command. He commands Abraham to leave his country, his land.
א וַיֹּאמֶר יְהוָה אֶל-אַבְרָם, לֶךְ-לְךָ מֵאַרְצְךָ וּמִמּוֹלַדְתְּךָ וּמִבֵּית אָבִיךָ, אֶל-הָאָרֶץ, אֲשֶׁר אַרְאֶךָּ.
1 Now the LORD said unto Abram: 'Get thee out of thy country, and from thy kindred, and from thy father's house, unto the land that I will show thee. (Genesis 12: 1)
This is Abraham's test and it is the test he passes, far more than the actual binding and sacrifice of his son. We are so enamored by this sacrifice because we forget how common it was during the time. To Abraham, such a request would not have been peculiar or frightening, as it would to us Americans. The Deity had changed his mind; he now desired the choicest of Abraham's possessions, his very son. Abraham's response was natural, even if emotionally bound to his son, he would know, in the manner that all men knew, that the Deity came first.
More importantly, and something that I somehow had not really thought about until this Rosh Hashana, Abraham had done this before! I think it is in gradeschool that we are somehow taught to minimize the depth of love that Abraham felt for his son Ishmael. Abraham loved him dearly and had no desire to cast him away, to send him out; it was only at the behest of God that he bowed to his wife's sounder judgement. At school, we are so busy priding ourselves on our descent from Isaac that we do not allow Ishmael a fair chance; we defame and malign him in order to make him seem lesser or somehow cruel. But consider Abraham's relationship to Ishmael. Yes, he was not the chosen child, the one who's birth was predicted by three angels. And no, he was not Abraham's child through Sarah, the woman he loved. But he was still his child and still beloved (do we not all know the Midrash that Abraham did not know which son to offer up till God said "Isaac" explicitly?) Abraham had no wish to send him away.
And how he sent them! He took bread and a skin of water and gave them to Hagar. True, God promised him that the child would be the father to a great nation. And certainly Abraham would believe God's word. But would it not tear his soul in two to give up his child, to send he and his mother out into the desert with the barest provisions, mere bread and water? (Incidentally, if you're reading the Torah as literature, one has to wonder whether this "bread and water" idea is similar to the bread and water idea mentioned by the angels, in which chase Hagar and Ishmael were amply provided for and ought to have had many sumptuous meals.) But according to the literal meaning, what must it have cost for Abraham to obey God and send away the woman with whom he had conceived a child and that very child, perhaps to die? Do you think this was done so lightly? No! Abraham grieved for this, even knowing that Ishmael was to father a nation; the very fact that God must comfort him "Be not distressed" (Genesis 21: 12) demonstrates how inconsolable and unhappy Abraham was.
After having sent away one son, do you not think that Abraham would have attempted to take care not to become overly attached to his new son, the child who had just been weaned (assuming you're reading this chronologically?) That would be the logical response, having just seen that God demanded that he send away a child- but I doubt Abraham responded that way; Abraham is the kind to seize life, not to create barriers for fear that they would be broken. Depending on the way you read him, however, Abraham would have become cynical and assumed that God would demand such a sacrifice of him at some point (seeing as He had already demanded Abraham's sending away one son) or he would have been truly broken by the request, since Isaac was all that he had left.
If I may digress for a moment, there are a few things I want to point out because I found them interesting:
A. Sarah tells Abraham "Cast out this bondwoman and her son." But Abraham's response is to be "very distressed on account of his son." Only his son! Not the bondwoman! God's response to Abraham suggests a rebuke, because He says, "Let it not be grievous in thy sight because of the lad, and because of thy bondwoman..." (Genesis 21: 12) God does place the lad before the bondwoman (seeing as he knows the son is more important to Abraham) but he mentions Hagar nonetheless. This reminds me a little of Moses' rearrangement of priorities by the tribes of Gad, Asher and Reuven. They wanted to stay in the land for "their cattle and their children;" Moses says they ought to stay "for their children and their cattle." The children come first. By God, God is pointing out to Abraham that he ought to be feeling distressed about his bondwoman, too.
B. If you read Genesis 21: 19 carefully, you notice a marked resemblance to an episode by Bilam.
- יט וַיִּפְקַח אֱלֹהִים אֶת-עֵינֶיהָ, וַתֵּרֶא בְּאֵר מָיִם; וַתֵּלֶךְ וַתְּמַלֵּא אֶת-הַחֵמֶת, מַיִם, וַתַּשְׁקְ, אֶת-הַנָּעַר.
19 And God opened her eyes, and she saw a well of water; and she went, and filled the bottle with water, and gave the lad drink.
Now compare to Numbers 22: 31.
- לא וַיְגַל יְהוָה, אֶת-עֵינֵי בִלְעָם, וַיַּרְא אֶת-מַלְאַךְ יְהוָה נִצָּב בַּדֶּרֶךְ, וְחַרְבּוֹ שְׁלֻפָה בְּיָדוֹ; וַיִּקֹּד וַיִּשְׁתַּחוּ, לְאַפָּיו.
31 Then the LORD opened the eyes of Balaam, and he saw the angel of the LORD standing in the way, with his sword drawn in his hand; and he bowed his head, and fell on his face.
I wonder how many things I walk right past and don't see...
All right, end of digression. It appears that Abraham's true test wasn't so much whether he would offer Isaac on the altar, as that outcome was already foreseen due to his prior behavior when it came to sending Hagar and Ishmael away. You may argue it's quite different to kill your son than to send him and his mother off into the middle of the desert. I would argue that a) for all Abraham knew, he was killing his son- he'd only given them some bread and water and sent them into a desert! Though yes, he did have God's promise and b) it might be even worse to have a son who hates you for having cast him off. This might be worse from a strategic point of view; that is, wouldn't such a son want revenge? But aside from that, the pain and guilt that one must live with every day, never knowing where his son is, what has happened to him (because if you read the literal text, not the aggadata, Abraham never interacts with him again) could potentially be worse than a known, if horrifying truth, that your son is dead (and that you killed him.)
Hence Abraham's test was how he would offer Isaac on the altar. Would he do so reluctantly? Joyfully? When called by God, would he respond "Hinneni," I am here, I am ready to obey? Or would he attempt to hide from God, as others had in the past? Abraham passed his test; when God called, he answered; when God told him to act, he acted. Abraham is God's first man-at-arms, standing at attention, ready to obey, reliable and trusted, unlike the deserters in God's past.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
R' Nachman of Breslov on Prayer
I was in the Stern library and stumbled upon a little book half-hidden between two larger books. I took it down and read it tonight; it's entitled Outpouring of the Soul. I feel like it was meant for me or that I was meant to find it; it's a little strange how much I connect to what he writes.
Here are some excerpts that I find particularly meaningful, intriguing or relevant.
2. Meditation
Meditation is the highest path of all. One must therefore set aside an hour or more each day to meditate by himself in a room or in the field.
Meditation should consist of conversation with God. One can pour out his words before his Creator. This can include complaints, excuses, or words seeking grace, acceptance and reconciliation. He must beg and plead that God bring him close and allow him to serve Him in truth.
One's conversation with God should be in the everyday language that he normally uses. Hebrew may be the preferred language for prayer, but it is difficult for a person to express himself in Hebrew. Furthermore, if one is not accustomed to speaking Hebrew, his heart is not drawn after the words.
However, in the language that a person normally speaks, it is very easy for him to express himself. The heart is closer to such a language, and follows it, since the person is more accustomed to it. Therefore, when one uses his native language, he can express everything that is in his heart, and tell it to God.
One's conversation with God can consist of regret and repentance. It can consist of prayers and pleading to be worthy of approaching Him and coming close to Him in truth from this day on. Each one should speak to God according to his own level.
One must be very careful to accustom himself to spend at least one hour a day in such meditation. During the rest of the day, one will then be in a state of joy and ecstasy.
This practice is extremely potent and powerful. It is an extremely beneficial practice in coming close to God. It is a general practice that is all-inclusive.
No matter what one feels he is lacking in his relationship to God, he can converse with God and ask him for help. This is true even if one is completely removed from any relationship with God.
There will be many times that one will find it impossible to say anything to God. His mouth will be sealed, and he will not be able to find any words to say. Nevertheless, the very fact that he has made the effort and has prepared himself to converse with God is in itself very beneficial. He has tried, and is ready and prepared to converse with God, yearning and longing to do so, but he is unable. This in itself is also very good.
Actually, one can make a conversation and prayer out of this itself. He should cry out to God that he is so far from Him that he cannot even speak. He should beg that God grant him mercy and open his mouth, so that he will be able to express himself before Him.
Many great holy men have related that they reached their high spiritual level only through this practice. An intelligent person will realize that with this practice one can constantly reach higher and higher. Furthermore it is a universal practice that can be used by great and small alike. every individual can make use of this practice, and reach the highest levels. Happy is he who grasps it.
It is also good to make prayers out of lessons. Thus if one hears a Torah lesson from a true holy man, he should make it into a prayer. He should contemplate everything in the lesson, and pray to God that he be worthy of attaining it. He should tell God how far he is from such attainment, and beg that he be helped to achieve everything in the lesson.
If one then has intelligence and true desire, God will guide him along the path of truth, and he will understand how to reach his goal. He will speak with beautiful words and true arguments, pleading with God to draw him close to Him.
The concept of a conversation with God is bound to an extremely high spiritual level. This is especially true when one makes prayers out of Torah lessons. This results in great delight on high.
Likutey Moharan Tinyana 25 (pages 21-22)
6. Opening the Heart
Speech has a great power to awaken a person spiritually.
Sometimes a person thinks that he has no heart and cannot reach a meditave state.
Nevertheless, if he expresses himself with many words of awakening, supplication and prayer, this speech itself will bring a revelation and awakening of his meditative powers and his soul.
This is the meaning of the verse, "My soul came forth when he spoke" (Song of Songs 5:6). It indicates that speech itself is a revelation of the soul and the heart.
It often happens that if one speaks to God very much, even without any true meditation, he can arrive at a great revelation of his meditative powers and his soul. This is because speech itself has great power.
Likutey Moharan Tinyana 98 (page 25)
17. Pouring Out One's Thoughts
It is very good to pour out one's thoughts before God, like a child pleading before its parent.
God calls us His children, as it is written, "You are children to God your Lord" (Deuteronomy 14: 1). Therefore, it is good to express one's thoughts and troubles to God, as a child complains to his father and pesters him.
One may think that he has done so much wrong that he is no longer one of God's children. still, he must remember that God always calls him his child. We are taught, "Whether good or evil, you are always called His children (Kiddushin 36a)."
Even if God has dismissed you and told you that you are no longer His child, you must still say, "Let Him do as He wills. But I must do my part and still behave like His child."
It is very good if one can awaken his heart and plead until tears stream from his eyes, so that he stands like a child weeping before his Father.
Sichoth HaRan 7 (page 35)
24. Conquering God
The Talmud says, "Sing to the One who rejoices when conquered." This indicates that there are times when one must even conquer God.
One may feel that he is rejected by God because of his sins. But even if one feels that he is not doing God's will, he should still remain strong and depend on God's mercy. One should spread his hands before God and beg that He have mercy and let him serve Him in truth.
A person may feel rejected by God, but he still must cry out, "It doesn't matter! I want to be a Jew!"
This is how one can overcome God. God has great joy when He is overcome in this manner.
Sichoth HaRan 69 (page 39)
28. The Song of the Field
How wonderful it would be if one could only be worthy of hearing the song of the grass. Each blade of grass sings out to God without any ulterior motive and without expecting any reward. It is most wonderful to hear its song and worship God in its midst.
The best place to meditate is in a field where things grow. There one can truly express his thoughts before God.
Sichoth Haran 163
The best place to meditate is in the meadows outside the city. One should meditate in a grassy field, for grass will awaken the heart.
Sichoth Haran 227 (page 42)
*
You have no idea how much better this makes me feel.
Here are some excerpts that I find particularly meaningful, intriguing or relevant.
2. Meditation
Meditation is the highest path of all. One must therefore set aside an hour or more each day to meditate by himself in a room or in the field.
Meditation should consist of conversation with God. One can pour out his words before his Creator. This can include complaints, excuses, or words seeking grace, acceptance and reconciliation. He must beg and plead that God bring him close and allow him to serve Him in truth.
One's conversation with God should be in the everyday language that he normally uses. Hebrew may be the preferred language for prayer, but it is difficult for a person to express himself in Hebrew. Furthermore, if one is not accustomed to speaking Hebrew, his heart is not drawn after the words.
However, in the language that a person normally speaks, it is very easy for him to express himself. The heart is closer to such a language, and follows it, since the person is more accustomed to it. Therefore, when one uses his native language, he can express everything that is in his heart, and tell it to God.
One's conversation with God can consist of regret and repentance. It can consist of prayers and pleading to be worthy of approaching Him and coming close to Him in truth from this day on. Each one should speak to God according to his own level.
One must be very careful to accustom himself to spend at least one hour a day in such meditation. During the rest of the day, one will then be in a state of joy and ecstasy.
This practice is extremely potent and powerful. It is an extremely beneficial practice in coming close to God. It is a general practice that is all-inclusive.
No matter what one feels he is lacking in his relationship to God, he can converse with God and ask him for help. This is true even if one is completely removed from any relationship with God.
There will be many times that one will find it impossible to say anything to God. His mouth will be sealed, and he will not be able to find any words to say. Nevertheless, the very fact that he has made the effort and has prepared himself to converse with God is in itself very beneficial. He has tried, and is ready and prepared to converse with God, yearning and longing to do so, but he is unable. This in itself is also very good.
Actually, one can make a conversation and prayer out of this itself. He should cry out to God that he is so far from Him that he cannot even speak. He should beg that God grant him mercy and open his mouth, so that he will be able to express himself before Him.
Many great holy men have related that they reached their high spiritual level only through this practice. An intelligent person will realize that with this practice one can constantly reach higher and higher. Furthermore it is a universal practice that can be used by great and small alike. every individual can make use of this practice, and reach the highest levels. Happy is he who grasps it.
It is also good to make prayers out of lessons. Thus if one hears a Torah lesson from a true holy man, he should make it into a prayer. He should contemplate everything in the lesson, and pray to God that he be worthy of attaining it. He should tell God how far he is from such attainment, and beg that he be helped to achieve everything in the lesson.
If one then has intelligence and true desire, God will guide him along the path of truth, and he will understand how to reach his goal. He will speak with beautiful words and true arguments, pleading with God to draw him close to Him.
The concept of a conversation with God is bound to an extremely high spiritual level. This is especially true when one makes prayers out of Torah lessons. This results in great delight on high.
Likutey Moharan Tinyana 25 (pages 21-22)
6. Opening the Heart
Speech has a great power to awaken a person spiritually.
Sometimes a person thinks that he has no heart and cannot reach a meditave state.
Nevertheless, if he expresses himself with many words of awakening, supplication and prayer, this speech itself will bring a revelation and awakening of his meditative powers and his soul.
This is the meaning of the verse, "My soul came forth when he spoke" (Song of Songs 5:6). It indicates that speech itself is a revelation of the soul and the heart.
It often happens that if one speaks to God very much, even without any true meditation, he can arrive at a great revelation of his meditative powers and his soul. This is because speech itself has great power.
Likutey Moharan Tinyana 98 (page 25)
17. Pouring Out One's Thoughts
It is very good to pour out one's thoughts before God, like a child pleading before its parent.
God calls us His children, as it is written, "You are children to God your Lord" (Deuteronomy 14: 1). Therefore, it is good to express one's thoughts and troubles to God, as a child complains to his father and pesters him.
One may think that he has done so much wrong that he is no longer one of God's children. still, he must remember that God always calls him his child. We are taught, "Whether good or evil, you are always called His children (Kiddushin 36a)."
Even if God has dismissed you and told you that you are no longer His child, you must still say, "Let Him do as He wills. But I must do my part and still behave like His child."
It is very good if one can awaken his heart and plead until tears stream from his eyes, so that he stands like a child weeping before his Father.
Sichoth HaRan 7 (page 35)
24. Conquering God
The Talmud says, "Sing to the One who rejoices when conquered." This indicates that there are times when one must even conquer God.
One may feel that he is rejected by God because of his sins. But even if one feels that he is not doing God's will, he should still remain strong and depend on God's mercy. One should spread his hands before God and beg that He have mercy and let him serve Him in truth.
A person may feel rejected by God, but he still must cry out, "It doesn't matter! I want to be a Jew!"
This is how one can overcome God. God has great joy when He is overcome in this manner.
Sichoth HaRan 69 (page 39)
28. The Song of the Field
How wonderful it would be if one could only be worthy of hearing the song of the grass. Each blade of grass sings out to God without any ulterior motive and without expecting any reward. It is most wonderful to hear its song and worship God in its midst.
The best place to meditate is in a field where things grow. There one can truly express his thoughts before God.
Sichoth Haran 163
The best place to meditate is in the meadows outside the city. One should meditate in a grassy field, for grass will awaken the heart.
Sichoth Haran 227 (page 42)
*
You have no idea how much better this makes me feel.
The Commentator on Education
I don't know how I managed to miss Zev Eleff's compilation, "Yeshiva in Academic Literature," in this issue of The Commentator, but it's excellent. Kudos, and I hope people are interested, because I know I am and would love PDF versions of all of these.
I love the idea of people using English Literature to teach Tanakh. And I hadn't known that various professors (including people whose classes I've taken/ whose works I have read) had written about it. This is great!
I love the idea of people using English Literature to teach Tanakh. And I hadn't known that various professors (including people whose classes I've taken/ whose works I have read) had written about it. This is great!
Dancing in the Rain Announcement
I'm going dancing in the rain after 6:00 PM (it's pouring here.) Anyone who wants to join me is welcome. This means you, former members of room 5b. Call me if you want to come and we'll arrange a meeting place.
I assume you're going home for Rosh Hashana, so I think I might go dancing by myself. We'll see. :-)
Update: It would stop raining as soon as I wrote this...
I assume you're going home for Rosh Hashana, so I think I might go dancing by myself. We'll see. :-)
Update: It would stop raining as soon as I wrote this...
Taking Stock
I'm thinking about who I am as a person right now, as opposed to who I was at the beginning of last year. I think there is a difference (although I wonder whether this difference is evident to others.) This past year has afforded me the opportunity to learn techniques to help me deal with others, and this in turn has very much influenced my thinking.
One of my favorite methods of looking at people now is to try to find what is similar between them and me rather than looking for the differences. This is distinctly different from the person I was at the beginning of this year or even the person I was when writing my "Templars" post. There is a distinction to be made between accusing and trying to understand. In order to understand, I have to really feel like I am the person in question, but in order to see through another's eyes, I must find the commonality, the point of connection between him and me. Once I find that, I can link myself to them and am afforded an entirely different perspective. This works best when I need not judge someone at all, and can simply connect to them in an emotional sense, which is why I look for the suffering the person hides. Connecting to people in pain is instinctual and breaks down all barriers without actual effort.
It is more difficult when I must exert myself, either because I do not know the person that well or because I do not know of their particular pain. In this case, assuming this is someone with whom I cannot agree, or whose philosophy or ideology I find flawed, I look for similar flaws in myself. Often the people I dislike most are those in whom I recognize aspects of my own character. It is easy to love oneself, and therefore easy to extend that love to others. Once I recognize the flaw in me that matches the flaw I see in someone else, it is far easier to judge them compassionately. Because wouldn't I judge myself that way?
To put it simply, I see people very differently from the way I did at the beginning of this year. And I try to resist placing labels on them, even good labels, such as "beautiful," and attempt to see them as simply people, people who are unique and have their own talents and skills but who are also similar to me in very important ways, and therefore people whom I must and should understand. I try to see them for what is good in them, but if that fails, I look for their pain, and if I can't find that either, I look for what is bothering me about them, their flaws, and I succeed in finding a similar flaw in myself. And so I find that I am connected to all people, no matter how seemingly different, and there is a way to see them all and to accept them.
I think I have evolved over this year, but I have done so with many setbacks and mistakes. I have fought bitterly against ideas I did not like, only to come to understand them later on, when I was ready. But the very fact that the ideas were presented to me helped me immensely.
I think that I have reached a point where I not only intellectually understand but really believe that there is no shame in saying that I do not know something. For a very long time I have felt it necessary to pretend I know things I do not know, mostly because it was suggested that anyone who did not know such things was a perfect fool. It's hard to say "I don't know" but I have practiced it this year and now use it more frequently, especially because it is true. And if someone mocks me for not knowing, this is not my problem- and I think I really believe that now, which is different from what I had believed before.
I think I also realize now that I do not need to be in control of everything, that indeed, I cannot always be in control of anything. This is similar to saying "I don't know;" it's a way of letting go, of relinquishing my grip upon my safety device or security blanket and walking into the unknown. And at the same time that it's scary, it is necessary and even freeing, because I feel like I have shed so many burdens I did not even know I was carrying.
I am noticing now that the common thread between the realizations I have made is that of shame. Did I really believe that if I admitted that I had my limitations, that there are some things I do not know or cannot control, I ought to be ashamed? Yes, I really did. But I am trying to figure out why I thought that and I can't say that I know why for certain. Was it I who placed such unreasonable expectations upon myself? Or is this something I somehow felt was expected due to the need to mantain the impressions others had of me? I can't say for certain. It's amusing that the more vehemently I protested that I was free of guilt or shame, the more shame I would feel for not knowing or not succeeding or not being in control of a situation.
I think that is what I have learned this year, and what has most empowered me: the ability to let go of this shame. I am not ashamed of being a flawed person, of admitting that I have my limitations, I cannot do everything, I do not always know what is going on, I am not always in control, and that many things are not whatever I originally thought them to be. I am not ashamed of admitting I am wrong because I now see that this is often the first step to growth, to moving forward and realizing that my ideas were correct at the point in time where I could only see so far, but now that I can see farther, my ideas must change accordingly.
There is no need to be ashamed of any of these things. I do not know why I thought there was; I only know how powerfully I felt that if anyone found out any of this, I was somehow in a position of vulnerability. But I feel stronger now. It is probably illogical to feel stronger after admitting one's weaknesses, and yet I do. Perhaps it is because it takes more strength of will for me to admit them than to constantly hide them.
I used to be so quick to express my opinion. I realize now that my opinions evolve based on the information at my disposal. It is not wrong to change one's opinion if new ideas or facts come to light, but the only honest way to exist. And it does not make you flighty or unreliable if you do this, but it means that you are looking for what's really true, and this is subject to change based on what you know or have the capacity to know at a particular point in time. I am even a little hesitant to write my opinions now for fear that people will think I must hold by them forever. This is impossible, for as I grow, how can my opinions stay the same? As I change, they too must change, for I see things that I did not see before and could not see before, because I am not speaking from the same place I was a year ago. There are ideas I could not understand before, being the person I was last year, and having only had her experiences. But now I see them, and I have had more and different experiences. It doesn't matter how much anyone would have tried to explain these principles to me before; I couldn't have grasped them, no matter how I would try, because I did not have the necessary background.
But now I see a little farther, and I am not so stubborn as I was before. Ideas begin to make sense to me and the curtain is pulled back a little further. This is how it always must be, each year the unveiling takes place and I see a little more, and the ideas that I once vehemently opposed suddenly make themselves understood. I smile a little and chuckle to myself as I remember my reaction to them at first, and then I nod and think, "Ah, so this is what he meant."
I am learning that it does not pay to take offense to most statements, as most of them are not made with me in mind at all. Nor does it pay to always speak up in order to express a particular view, or even to always speak out at class. In effect, I am learning the value of listening.
I no longer feel the need to prove myself with every step I take, assert myself as some kind of superior being or feel concerned if others do not view me as such. In fact, I take a very gentle but amused view of this person I was last year, this girl who cared so much about how she was viewed and yet refused to admit she cared, choosing instead to arrogantly assert otherwise. But she honestly believed what she stated! And that is one thing that can be said for me, or for her- that she does honestly believe what she says at a particular point in time; it is only that there is always more to see and understand, and with that new knowledge comes a new way of seeing and a breadth of understanding.
I don't know if any of you have noticed any of this in me; probably not, because you often see me when I am laughing and happy and not in one of my more serious moods. The only problem is that sometimes I feel so old, and I look at the things I once cherished and valued and see the way that others long for them, and I wish I could show them what I know now, so that they would see they need not be so sad after all. But I understand what it is like, now, to be unable to spare someone the pain of discovery, and realize that nothing in the world that I say will make sense to them as they are right now, because they do not have the necessary background, just as I did not- and do not still, for other matters, certainly.
I hope that everything ends as beautifully for them as it does for me, and that our journeys of self-discovery are similarly helped along by kind and compassionate guides such as I have had. People have been extraordinarily patient with me; when I look back at some of the things I said this past year, I can't imagine how anyone could have dealt with me. It is intensely frustrating to tell someone something you know to be true, but something they cannot yet grasp, but I appreciate your trying and hope that you will always have faith in me and believe that one day I will grasp the precious ideas you are trying to share with me.
My father hates to see me make mistakes and learn things the hard way, but he knows by now that there are certain things he cannot teach me or explain to me, but that I must learn myself. And it is very hard to step back and watch someone flounder about until they find their footing, especially when you wish they would just listen to you instead of having to learn through experience. But I have learned, and I hope to continue to learn, and I am different now than I was before, and it is because of those of you who have taught me.
This has been a very good year for me, and I hope the next one is even better, for me and for all of us.
Ksiva v'Chatima Tova to all.
One of my favorite methods of looking at people now is to try to find what is similar between them and me rather than looking for the differences. This is distinctly different from the person I was at the beginning of this year or even the person I was when writing my "Templars" post. There is a distinction to be made between accusing and trying to understand. In order to understand, I have to really feel like I am the person in question, but in order to see through another's eyes, I must find the commonality, the point of connection between him and me. Once I find that, I can link myself to them and am afforded an entirely different perspective. This works best when I need not judge someone at all, and can simply connect to them in an emotional sense, which is why I look for the suffering the person hides. Connecting to people in pain is instinctual and breaks down all barriers without actual effort.
It is more difficult when I must exert myself, either because I do not know the person that well or because I do not know of their particular pain. In this case, assuming this is someone with whom I cannot agree, or whose philosophy or ideology I find flawed, I look for similar flaws in myself. Often the people I dislike most are those in whom I recognize aspects of my own character. It is easy to love oneself, and therefore easy to extend that love to others. Once I recognize the flaw in me that matches the flaw I see in someone else, it is far easier to judge them compassionately. Because wouldn't I judge myself that way?
To put it simply, I see people very differently from the way I did at the beginning of this year. And I try to resist placing labels on them, even good labels, such as "beautiful," and attempt to see them as simply people, people who are unique and have their own talents and skills but who are also similar to me in very important ways, and therefore people whom I must and should understand. I try to see them for what is good in them, but if that fails, I look for their pain, and if I can't find that either, I look for what is bothering me about them, their flaws, and I succeed in finding a similar flaw in myself. And so I find that I am connected to all people, no matter how seemingly different, and there is a way to see them all and to accept them.
I think I have evolved over this year, but I have done so with many setbacks and mistakes. I have fought bitterly against ideas I did not like, only to come to understand them later on, when I was ready. But the very fact that the ideas were presented to me helped me immensely.
I think that I have reached a point where I not only intellectually understand but really believe that there is no shame in saying that I do not know something. For a very long time I have felt it necessary to pretend I know things I do not know, mostly because it was suggested that anyone who did not know such things was a perfect fool. It's hard to say "I don't know" but I have practiced it this year and now use it more frequently, especially because it is true. And if someone mocks me for not knowing, this is not my problem- and I think I really believe that now, which is different from what I had believed before.
I think I also realize now that I do not need to be in control of everything, that indeed, I cannot always be in control of anything. This is similar to saying "I don't know;" it's a way of letting go, of relinquishing my grip upon my safety device or security blanket and walking into the unknown. And at the same time that it's scary, it is necessary and even freeing, because I feel like I have shed so many burdens I did not even know I was carrying.
I am noticing now that the common thread between the realizations I have made is that of shame. Did I really believe that if I admitted that I had my limitations, that there are some things I do not know or cannot control, I ought to be ashamed? Yes, I really did. But I am trying to figure out why I thought that and I can't say that I know why for certain. Was it I who placed such unreasonable expectations upon myself? Or is this something I somehow felt was expected due to the need to mantain the impressions others had of me? I can't say for certain. It's amusing that the more vehemently I protested that I was free of guilt or shame, the more shame I would feel for not knowing or not succeeding or not being in control of a situation.
I think that is what I have learned this year, and what has most empowered me: the ability to let go of this shame. I am not ashamed of being a flawed person, of admitting that I have my limitations, I cannot do everything, I do not always know what is going on, I am not always in control, and that many things are not whatever I originally thought them to be. I am not ashamed of admitting I am wrong because I now see that this is often the first step to growth, to moving forward and realizing that my ideas were correct at the point in time where I could only see so far, but now that I can see farther, my ideas must change accordingly.
There is no need to be ashamed of any of these things. I do not know why I thought there was; I only know how powerfully I felt that if anyone found out any of this, I was somehow in a position of vulnerability. But I feel stronger now. It is probably illogical to feel stronger after admitting one's weaknesses, and yet I do. Perhaps it is because it takes more strength of will for me to admit them than to constantly hide them.
I used to be so quick to express my opinion. I realize now that my opinions evolve based on the information at my disposal. It is not wrong to change one's opinion if new ideas or facts come to light, but the only honest way to exist. And it does not make you flighty or unreliable if you do this, but it means that you are looking for what's really true, and this is subject to change based on what you know or have the capacity to know at a particular point in time. I am even a little hesitant to write my opinions now for fear that people will think I must hold by them forever. This is impossible, for as I grow, how can my opinions stay the same? As I change, they too must change, for I see things that I did not see before and could not see before, because I am not speaking from the same place I was a year ago. There are ideas I could not understand before, being the person I was last year, and having only had her experiences. But now I see them, and I have had more and different experiences. It doesn't matter how much anyone would have tried to explain these principles to me before; I couldn't have grasped them, no matter how I would try, because I did not have the necessary background.
But now I see a little farther, and I am not so stubborn as I was before. Ideas begin to make sense to me and the curtain is pulled back a little further. This is how it always must be, each year the unveiling takes place and I see a little more, and the ideas that I once vehemently opposed suddenly make themselves understood. I smile a little and chuckle to myself as I remember my reaction to them at first, and then I nod and think, "Ah, so this is what he meant."
I am learning that it does not pay to take offense to most statements, as most of them are not made with me in mind at all. Nor does it pay to always speak up in order to express a particular view, or even to always speak out at class. In effect, I am learning the value of listening.
I no longer feel the need to prove myself with every step I take, assert myself as some kind of superior being or feel concerned if others do not view me as such. In fact, I take a very gentle but amused view of this person I was last year, this girl who cared so much about how she was viewed and yet refused to admit she cared, choosing instead to arrogantly assert otherwise. But she honestly believed what she stated! And that is one thing that can be said for me, or for her- that she does honestly believe what she says at a particular point in time; it is only that there is always more to see and understand, and with that new knowledge comes a new way of seeing and a breadth of understanding.
I don't know if any of you have noticed any of this in me; probably not, because you often see me when I am laughing and happy and not in one of my more serious moods. The only problem is that sometimes I feel so old, and I look at the things I once cherished and valued and see the way that others long for them, and I wish I could show them what I know now, so that they would see they need not be so sad after all. But I understand what it is like, now, to be unable to spare someone the pain of discovery, and realize that nothing in the world that I say will make sense to them as they are right now, because they do not have the necessary background, just as I did not- and do not still, for other matters, certainly.
I hope that everything ends as beautifully for them as it does for me, and that our journeys of self-discovery are similarly helped along by kind and compassionate guides such as I have had. People have been extraordinarily patient with me; when I look back at some of the things I said this past year, I can't imagine how anyone could have dealt with me. It is intensely frustrating to tell someone something you know to be true, but something they cannot yet grasp, but I appreciate your trying and hope that you will always have faith in me and believe that one day I will grasp the precious ideas you are trying to share with me.
My father hates to see me make mistakes and learn things the hard way, but he knows by now that there are certain things he cannot teach me or explain to me, but that I must learn myself. And it is very hard to step back and watch someone flounder about until they find their footing, especially when you wish they would just listen to you instead of having to learn through experience. But I have learned, and I hope to continue to learn, and I am different now than I was before, and it is because of those of you who have taught me.
This has been a very good year for me, and I hope the next one is even better, for me and for all of us.
Ksiva v'Chatima Tova to all.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Hypocrisy in Religion
I have often wondered about my religious observance. I commit various sins, and I often wonder whether it is hypocritical to follow other mitzvot if I am not fulfilling the first or more basic mitzvot. This comes to mind most strongly when we are near Rosh Hashana, at which point I think about all the lies, as it were, that I am going to tell in shul. On Rosh Hashana I read a prepared text with a list of sins for which I am ostensibly sorry. But suppose I am not sorry for these sins, that indeed I feel no guilt? What then? Is it better to be honest and not to mention the sins at all? Is it better to say them anyway and act the hypocrite?
For example, if one does not make birchat haTorah, for whatever reason, should they still learn if they have the opportunity? Or would that be hypocritical? And in religion specifically, does hypocrisy matter?
I have thought it over for a long time, because I do not like the idea of being a hypocrite. I have come to the conclusion that hypocrisy does not matter in religion, and that each day must be treated as a new day. Therefore, though it may seem hypocritical that I daven on one day, for instance, and not the other, it doesn't matter, because each day is a new day to be taken on its own terms. If I have not fulfilled one mitzvah, even knowingly and deliberately, that doesn't negate the value of fulfilling another one. This is purely a philosophical point of view, of course; halakhically things probably have little to no value if the first precept is not fulfilled.
I don't think religion would work if we had to be consistent or honest all the time. I wouldn't keep anything if that were the case, because each day I would be so hard on myself for the things I couldn't or wouldn't keep and then I would start wondering, what is the point? If I don't do something as basic as daven in the morning, who am I kidding if I do a different mitzvah, mitzvah x? That's how I would think, at least. So I have to view everything as separate and not affecting each other and I have to think it's okay to be hypocritical when it comes to religion, not to daven but nevertheless to learn, or to make a blessing over a food but not to say al hamichya, for instance.
I think that's the only one religion can really function. Do you see an alternative? Obviously the ideal is for everyone to keep everything, but otherwise what seems to be hypocritical must be tolerated. So instead of making fun of the woman who covers her legs but gossips openly, or who wears a shaitel but puts on makeup on Shabbat, we should treat them all equally and kindly, because aren't I the same? And isn't that how I would like to be treated? How would I like someone else to make fun of my hypocrisies?
Since I'm the person who would have once been completely dismissive of people whose priorities, to me, seemed out of whack, this is a bit of a revelation for me. Somehow I never had the compassion to see- or the desire to look- and realize that I suffer from the same flaw, only perhaps I am less obvious in the stockings-gossiping correlation. I still do think that some things are more important than others, for example someone who keeps all the laws but who engages in a societal ill, for example, a murderer, doesn't necessarily deserve one's sympathy. One can make this argument for anyone who engages in some kind of meditated crime, including white-collar crimes like not paying one's taxes, which would be a form of stealing. But leaving such crimes aside, there are many of us who can't do everything, and so it doesn't pay for me to look down on anyone, since they could look down on me, too, for the exact same thing. If that makes any sense.
I guess I think that we are all hypocrites, in some sense, unless you happen to be very good, in which case I truly admire you and would probably like to learn from you. It's just that when it comes to religion, hypocrisy isn't a bad thing but a way that demonstrates that you are still growing. "Hypocrisy" is probably the wrong word; it's such a value-laden term, but I can't find the word that means what I am trying to say. I want to say that we're not perfect and shouldn't expect one another to be perfect and that despite seeming dishonest, if one admits for this premise, our seeming hypocrisy is actually honesty. This is assuming one is really trying to do the right thing, of course, and I think that most of us are.
For example, if one does not make birchat haTorah, for whatever reason, should they still learn if they have the opportunity? Or would that be hypocritical? And in religion specifically, does hypocrisy matter?
I have thought it over for a long time, because I do not like the idea of being a hypocrite. I have come to the conclusion that hypocrisy does not matter in religion, and that each day must be treated as a new day. Therefore, though it may seem hypocritical that I daven on one day, for instance, and not the other, it doesn't matter, because each day is a new day to be taken on its own terms. If I have not fulfilled one mitzvah, even knowingly and deliberately, that doesn't negate the value of fulfilling another one. This is purely a philosophical point of view, of course; halakhically things probably have little to no value if the first precept is not fulfilled.
I don't think religion would work if we had to be consistent or honest all the time. I wouldn't keep anything if that were the case, because each day I would be so hard on myself for the things I couldn't or wouldn't keep and then I would start wondering, what is the point? If I don't do something as basic as daven in the morning, who am I kidding if I do a different mitzvah, mitzvah x? That's how I would think, at least. So I have to view everything as separate and not affecting each other and I have to think it's okay to be hypocritical when it comes to religion, not to daven but nevertheless to learn, or to make a blessing over a food but not to say al hamichya, for instance.
I think that's the only one religion can really function. Do you see an alternative? Obviously the ideal is for everyone to keep everything, but otherwise what seems to be hypocritical must be tolerated. So instead of making fun of the woman who covers her legs but gossips openly, or who wears a shaitel but puts on makeup on Shabbat, we should treat them all equally and kindly, because aren't I the same? And isn't that how I would like to be treated? How would I like someone else to make fun of my hypocrisies?
Since I'm the person who would have once been completely dismissive of people whose priorities, to me, seemed out of whack, this is a bit of a revelation for me. Somehow I never had the compassion to see- or the desire to look- and realize that I suffer from the same flaw, only perhaps I am less obvious in the stockings-gossiping correlation. I still do think that some things are more important than others, for example someone who keeps all the laws but who engages in a societal ill, for example, a murderer, doesn't necessarily deserve one's sympathy. One can make this argument for anyone who engages in some kind of meditated crime, including white-collar crimes like not paying one's taxes, which would be a form of stealing. But leaving such crimes aside, there are many of us who can't do everything, and so it doesn't pay for me to look down on anyone, since they could look down on me, too, for the exact same thing. If that makes any sense.
I guess I think that we are all hypocrites, in some sense, unless you happen to be very good, in which case I truly admire you and would probably like to learn from you. It's just that when it comes to religion, hypocrisy isn't a bad thing but a way that demonstrates that you are still growing. "Hypocrisy" is probably the wrong word; it's such a value-laden term, but I can't find the word that means what I am trying to say. I want to say that we're not perfect and shouldn't expect one another to be perfect and that despite seeming dishonest, if one admits for this premise, our seeming hypocrisy is actually honesty. This is assuming one is really trying to do the right thing, of course, and I think that most of us are.
Sunday, September 09, 2007
Being Alive
Your blood crystallizes and your lips are cold; you are beautiful and shining in the glow of an effervescent light, but it comes from within; you light your own path and exist in all your glory. You are nothing but you, you are everything that is best in you and nothing that is bad. You glow with the desire to do all that you find to be good; it's like you've been dipped in a kind of glory, an iridescent eddying shine that falls over you like a veil, that clings to your skin and shimmers about you, so that you throw off sparks and glitter in the night.
It's when every word drips from your fingers like the gods have placed it there, when you write and you know you are writing your very soul; there are no limits and no barriers, no fear and no fury, nothing but the desire, the simple desire to be and the knowledge that you shall be; nothing is impossible and you are invincible. The world was created for you and you exist to create yourself; every day is a new day and every day you are blessed again. For you need not deserve the love of God; God grants it to you regardless. You look up at him innocently and throw back your head and laugh, and you shake your hair in the moonlight and tendrils curl around your neck and you are intoxicated by the simple scent of roses.
It is only at night, because the night is the time to be most alive. It is at night that thoughts come together and coalesce; it is then that I suddenly understand, I see, I comprehend exactly. In the morning I've lost it, that clarity I once possessed, that absolute understanding. There are two pieces of a chain, shining and silver, and they link together in my mind and I know, as I always knew before, exactly what it is that I am to do and exactly how to get there. It is a mere flash but it illuminates my mind and therefore my entire body sings with joy. I am here and I am present in the very now, in what is happening, every glimpse and every glance catches my eye and I laugh; I laugh and laugh, for there is nothing to be sad about, not any longer, for everyone exists and always shall exist.
It's when the souls come out to meet me and let me dance among them. I see them all, everyone that I miss, my Grandpa most especially. He holds out his hand and I clasp it and he whirls me and we are skipping and I see that I am barefoot and in my nightdress; it is light blue with a simple flower tucked behind an ear. He has never seen me like this, has he? But he is laughing; his craggy face smiling and I see that he loves me still and hasn't forgotten me, that he is watching and has watched me and he approves of what he sees. He knows how often I think of him and he knows I love him, and he is glad of me and what I am.
Turn off the light and let me clasp the dark to me; it's in the night that I see them all, that I shiver with the knowledge of having met them. They forgive me for everything that I am, there is no sin when I am amongst them, dancing in a half-world, a dream that I build out of my own fantasies and shadows, the illusions I lay at its foundation. I need them to know me and so I know them, and it is they who give me the strength and show me how to proceed. They come to me and guide me so that I know, and I know more strongly when I speak to Dustfinger and the boys, because they explain what I did not understand.
It's a world of my own making, but we all have entrance here. I see you every night, but you don't know it- I dream of you and your auburn curls and of them and their smiles. My father comes to counsel me and my mother to comfort me, and when they are all together they teach me. I don't remember in the morning, but I know it in the night, and so it is in the night that I am everything, I am exactly what I should be. A thousand songs play in my mind and make a heavenly kind of music, something that I cannot repeat and cannot capture, a picture that I cannot paint no matter how high my skill, for it is made out of lights and not of colors.
It is not a dream but a wistful half-making; I create it for myself and you come and help me complete it. It's everything that I want and that I am when it is dark; it's only then that I can think and that I actually comprehend. I know things at night that I don't know in the morning and I have to struggle to find them again; what I saw in the water has muddied, become murky and dim. But it is there, if only I look for it; if the sunlight falls properly I will see the glints again, and they will remind me, but I will be sluggish and slow; I prefer the night because then I needn't even look. It is reflected, then, and shines on me, and I simply take in the glow and shine brighter.
There's a beauty in the dark that you don't see in the daylight; it's the beauty of the unknown. It's the wild and the fae, the enchantress and the girl, the mixture of the known and the forgotten. It's the way the light curves on my skin as it falls through slatted windows; it's the moonlight or the starlight or even the reflected mica from the sidewalk, but each way it glitters and captures the essence of me. It reminds me of what I truly am, the answering soul that glows within me, that no one knows but me. I remember, then; I remember who I am and why I am and that thought gives me joy, so that I am dancing and could dance all night. But no one sees me; no one knows how to look. I am free but you can't see it; I am whirling on a sea of white sand that rises and falls under a gentle wind.
There are shadows who are with me, but they do not bother me because I acknowledge their presence. I bow to them all before I begin; there is doubt, and there is hatred; they are all here but they have no power. They can simply watch me and do you know, I fancy they are glad; they almost wish they were overthrown, because like all beings, they too desire to self-destruct. I cast no shadow in the dark; I am of the dark, of the night, of everything that clings to itself and binds itself together; I am everything and nothing and I am immortal.
There is a world beyond this one, a world that exists only at night, and it is the world I enter. I construct it in my mind and then I see it with my eyes; I am its enchantress and my subjects wait for me. And there I am forgiven, and there I create myself anew, and when I sleep the souls protect me. The Sandman scatters sand across my lashes and causes me to forget what I have learned, so that when I begin again I must recapture it, recapture everything I understood in the night. And in the morning there are flashes, but only flashes; I see the two links shine and connect and I know that I am right. But clarity comes at night, because it is then when I am truly the essence of me; I dance all night but nobody notices. I am one of the twelve dancing princesses, you know, only no one has found me out yet and no one ever will, for I don't wear my shoes to shreds. I do not even wear shoes; I go barefoot, you see. For the sand cannot harm me, and my servants are spirits who attend me, and the souls guard me, and the shadows watch me, so I am nothing if not myself. And it is only I.
And that is what it means to be alive, to know with every fiber of your being that you exist and you are here and that all that you do is blessed and is meant, to realize that you have the power to fulfill every goal that you have set for yourself, that you are the epitome of your own dream. For you are the person you so admire; you are everything you want. And then you breathe again, and you come back to life, and that joy transmits itself to everything you touch, for you are happy and therefore you glow. There are sparkles on your eyes, but you did not put them there; you are radiant and happy and therefore alive. The world is yours.
I am alive now, and I am dancing, and soon I will be dragged back down again, but for now, for these few precious moments, oh, how alive, and how deeply felt!
It's when every word drips from your fingers like the gods have placed it there, when you write and you know you are writing your very soul; there are no limits and no barriers, no fear and no fury, nothing but the desire, the simple desire to be and the knowledge that you shall be; nothing is impossible and you are invincible. The world was created for you and you exist to create yourself; every day is a new day and every day you are blessed again. For you need not deserve the love of God; God grants it to you regardless. You look up at him innocently and throw back your head and laugh, and you shake your hair in the moonlight and tendrils curl around your neck and you are intoxicated by the simple scent of roses.
It is only at night, because the night is the time to be most alive. It is at night that thoughts come together and coalesce; it is then that I suddenly understand, I see, I comprehend exactly. In the morning I've lost it, that clarity I once possessed, that absolute understanding. There are two pieces of a chain, shining and silver, and they link together in my mind and I know, as I always knew before, exactly what it is that I am to do and exactly how to get there. It is a mere flash but it illuminates my mind and therefore my entire body sings with joy. I am here and I am present in the very now, in what is happening, every glimpse and every glance catches my eye and I laugh; I laugh and laugh, for there is nothing to be sad about, not any longer, for everyone exists and always shall exist.
It's when the souls come out to meet me and let me dance among them. I see them all, everyone that I miss, my Grandpa most especially. He holds out his hand and I clasp it and he whirls me and we are skipping and I see that I am barefoot and in my nightdress; it is light blue with a simple flower tucked behind an ear. He has never seen me like this, has he? But he is laughing; his craggy face smiling and I see that he loves me still and hasn't forgotten me, that he is watching and has watched me and he approves of what he sees. He knows how often I think of him and he knows I love him, and he is glad of me and what I am.
Turn off the light and let me clasp the dark to me; it's in the night that I see them all, that I shiver with the knowledge of having met them. They forgive me for everything that I am, there is no sin when I am amongst them, dancing in a half-world, a dream that I build out of my own fantasies and shadows, the illusions I lay at its foundation. I need them to know me and so I know them, and it is they who give me the strength and show me how to proceed. They come to me and guide me so that I know, and I know more strongly when I speak to Dustfinger and the boys, because they explain what I did not understand.
It's a world of my own making, but we all have entrance here. I see you every night, but you don't know it- I dream of you and your auburn curls and of them and their smiles. My father comes to counsel me and my mother to comfort me, and when they are all together they teach me. I don't remember in the morning, but I know it in the night, and so it is in the night that I am everything, I am exactly what I should be. A thousand songs play in my mind and make a heavenly kind of music, something that I cannot repeat and cannot capture, a picture that I cannot paint no matter how high my skill, for it is made out of lights and not of colors.
It is not a dream but a wistful half-making; I create it for myself and you come and help me complete it. It's everything that I want and that I am when it is dark; it's only then that I can think and that I actually comprehend. I know things at night that I don't know in the morning and I have to struggle to find them again; what I saw in the water has muddied, become murky and dim. But it is there, if only I look for it; if the sunlight falls properly I will see the glints again, and they will remind me, but I will be sluggish and slow; I prefer the night because then I needn't even look. It is reflected, then, and shines on me, and I simply take in the glow and shine brighter.
There's a beauty in the dark that you don't see in the daylight; it's the beauty of the unknown. It's the wild and the fae, the enchantress and the girl, the mixture of the known and the forgotten. It's the way the light curves on my skin as it falls through slatted windows; it's the moonlight or the starlight or even the reflected mica from the sidewalk, but each way it glitters and captures the essence of me. It reminds me of what I truly am, the answering soul that glows within me, that no one knows but me. I remember, then; I remember who I am and why I am and that thought gives me joy, so that I am dancing and could dance all night. But no one sees me; no one knows how to look. I am free but you can't see it; I am whirling on a sea of white sand that rises and falls under a gentle wind.
There are shadows who are with me, but they do not bother me because I acknowledge their presence. I bow to them all before I begin; there is doubt, and there is hatred; they are all here but they have no power. They can simply watch me and do you know, I fancy they are glad; they almost wish they were overthrown, because like all beings, they too desire to self-destruct. I cast no shadow in the dark; I am of the dark, of the night, of everything that clings to itself and binds itself together; I am everything and nothing and I am immortal.
There is a world beyond this one, a world that exists only at night, and it is the world I enter. I construct it in my mind and then I see it with my eyes; I am its enchantress and my subjects wait for me. And there I am forgiven, and there I create myself anew, and when I sleep the souls protect me. The Sandman scatters sand across my lashes and causes me to forget what I have learned, so that when I begin again I must recapture it, recapture everything I understood in the night. And in the morning there are flashes, but only flashes; I see the two links shine and connect and I know that I am right. But clarity comes at night, because it is then when I am truly the essence of me; I dance all night but nobody notices. I am one of the twelve dancing princesses, you know, only no one has found me out yet and no one ever will, for I don't wear my shoes to shreds. I do not even wear shoes; I go barefoot, you see. For the sand cannot harm me, and my servants are spirits who attend me, and the souls guard me, and the shadows watch me, so I am nothing if not myself. And it is only I.
And that is what it means to be alive, to know with every fiber of your being that you exist and you are here and that all that you do is blessed and is meant, to realize that you have the power to fulfill every goal that you have set for yourself, that you are the epitome of your own dream. For you are the person you so admire; you are everything you want. And then you breathe again, and you come back to life, and that joy transmits itself to everything you touch, for you are happy and therefore you glow. There are sparkles on your eyes, but you did not put them there; you are radiant and happy and therefore alive. The world is yours.
I am alive now, and I am dancing, and soon I will be dragged back down again, but for now, for these few precious moments, oh, how alive, and how deeply felt!
Friday, September 07, 2007
well, this is freeing
I have no idea what's flying.
I cannot control the majority of the things that affect me.
I am not Atlas, and I am not holding up the world.
I don't need to accomodate everyone I meet.
Nothing means what I thought it used to mean.
I'm so light, I feel like I could dance...
I cannot control the majority of the things that affect me.
I am not Atlas, and I am not holding up the world.
I don't need to accomodate everyone I meet.
Nothing means what I thought it used to mean.
I'm so light, I feel like I could dance...
Blog Policy on Deleting Posts
Hey, I'd appreciate your input on blog policy. I'd also appreciate your explaining your point of view in the comments. Thank you!
What is Thinking?
I think I don't know how to think.
Must thought be structured? I think it must. How would you define legitimate thought? I don't think I've mastered anything near it. In fact, I think I misunderstand it. I'd like to clarify the misunderstanding, but I'm not sure how to do so consistently and clearly, so that even I comprehend what I mean.
Do you ever look at your life from a very detached and old perspective, an intelligence larger than yours? I have flashes of this sometimes, and it's never a pleasant experience because everything I see is littered with mistakes, mostly mistakes in the assertions or opinions that I define as being thought, but which aren't thought. And then I hope to fix them, but I never quite do, and it's because I'm missing the underpinning, something fundamental, when it comes to how to see things.
I hope this makes sense, even to a small degree. My head is off doing somersaults without me, but they're the pointless kind. Energetic gymnastics mean nothing if they go nowhere, except that you are wasting energy.
So, let's identify the problem. The problem is that my "thinking," if we can call it that, is very large and clunky and stumbles around like an elephant and is impacted by whatever colorful emotions get in the way at the time. It's not a derivation of logical precepts that stand in their own right. It's very simplistic and divided. But how am I going to fix all this? I realize it's a problem and have been told so by not one, but numerous people, and now even I see it, but somehow just realizing it doesn't work. I need a regimen or something; isn't there something I can do, like read a thousand books or make a thousand paper cranes?
I'm only half-joking.
Or maybe the only way to learn really is to just keep on making mistakes. Keep on saying or writing things that you regret after further reflection, and that will clarify the next idea to you- maybe. But that's not a very pleasant way to learn. Then again, who said this would have to be pleasant?
So I'd like to learn, don't know how, and probably aren't at all ready to be taught, but it is worth learning how to think. Maybe a way to start would be to study different patterns of thought, or derivations of thought, different methods and methodologies, and maybe through that study I can come to a better grasp of the whole idea. Or maybe it would be better to leave it all alone, and I will simply come to learn through the process of growing up, that is, through experience.
Or maybe, and this is something I would have to consider also, I am simply not proper material for this venture and whether or not I try, I just can't grasp this and I can't learn how to think properly. But that would be very disheartening.
What do you think true thought is? And how do you think it is attained? And what course of study ought one to embark upon to attain it, or should one leave well enough alone?
I feel like I need to redefine everything; there are so many perceptions I've shed this year, and so many more I have yet to lose, but somehow it is both amusing and frightening that I have decided I need to redefine the very word "thought." At least I can laugh at myself about all this! I provide myself with very good entertainment. Laughter really is the saving grace, because without that, there would be so much to be sad about.
Incidentally, I find that every day I learn about a new facet of the meaning of humility. So much that I once took to be accomplishments, especially my accomplishments, are merely shadows; so much that I once thought I knew I simply have to unlearn. And there is so, so much more to learn and so very little I know in the scheme of things, that in fact everything is really overwhelming at times. I feel like I have spent more of the past year unlearning ideas than learning them, but it has been very useful to me.
I'm really lucky to have readers or people who are willing to take the time to help me unlearn my ideas, although I should tell you that it's generally best when you do this in a nicer way, as that makes it easier for me, though I have learned from the harsher comments as well and try to do so. In my case especially, unlearning is crucial. Much of what anyone tries to teach me is wasted on me unless I am willing to listen, and how can I listen if I am stubbornly clinging to my own idea and trying to defend it? I have to drop the preconceived notion or abandon what I was formerly taught in order to assimilate or at least understand the new information. This is not something that comes easily to me, but I realize now how much I need to try to do it. There is no gain without an effort, after all; "yagati u'matzati."
At least I have a place to start, the desire to want to know or figure out how to develop thoughts and ideas. Now I just have to figure out how to do it, or if it can even be taught.
Must thought be structured? I think it must. How would you define legitimate thought? I don't think I've mastered anything near it. In fact, I think I misunderstand it. I'd like to clarify the misunderstanding, but I'm not sure how to do so consistently and clearly, so that even I comprehend what I mean.
Do you ever look at your life from a very detached and old perspective, an intelligence larger than yours? I have flashes of this sometimes, and it's never a pleasant experience because everything I see is littered with mistakes, mostly mistakes in the assertions or opinions that I define as being thought, but which aren't thought. And then I hope to fix them, but I never quite do, and it's because I'm missing the underpinning, something fundamental, when it comes to how to see things.
I hope this makes sense, even to a small degree. My head is off doing somersaults without me, but they're the pointless kind. Energetic gymnastics mean nothing if they go nowhere, except that you are wasting energy.
So, let's identify the problem. The problem is that my "thinking," if we can call it that, is very large and clunky and stumbles around like an elephant and is impacted by whatever colorful emotions get in the way at the time. It's not a derivation of logical precepts that stand in their own right. It's very simplistic and divided. But how am I going to fix all this? I realize it's a problem and have been told so by not one, but numerous people, and now even I see it, but somehow just realizing it doesn't work. I need a regimen or something; isn't there something I can do, like read a thousand books or make a thousand paper cranes?
I'm only half-joking.
Or maybe the only way to learn really is to just keep on making mistakes. Keep on saying or writing things that you regret after further reflection, and that will clarify the next idea to you- maybe. But that's not a very pleasant way to learn. Then again, who said this would have to be pleasant?
So I'd like to learn, don't know how, and probably aren't at all ready to be taught, but it is worth learning how to think. Maybe a way to start would be to study different patterns of thought, or derivations of thought, different methods and methodologies, and maybe through that study I can come to a better grasp of the whole idea. Or maybe it would be better to leave it all alone, and I will simply come to learn through the process of growing up, that is, through experience.
Or maybe, and this is something I would have to consider also, I am simply not proper material for this venture and whether or not I try, I just can't grasp this and I can't learn how to think properly. But that would be very disheartening.
What do you think true thought is? And how do you think it is attained? And what course of study ought one to embark upon to attain it, or should one leave well enough alone?
I feel like I need to redefine everything; there are so many perceptions I've shed this year, and so many more I have yet to lose, but somehow it is both amusing and frightening that I have decided I need to redefine the very word "thought." At least I can laugh at myself about all this! I provide myself with very good entertainment. Laughter really is the saving grace, because without that, there would be so much to be sad about.
Incidentally, I find that every day I learn about a new facet of the meaning of humility. So much that I once took to be accomplishments, especially my accomplishments, are merely shadows; so much that I once thought I knew I simply have to unlearn. And there is so, so much more to learn and so very little I know in the scheme of things, that in fact everything is really overwhelming at times. I feel like I have spent more of the past year unlearning ideas than learning them, but it has been very useful to me.
I'm really lucky to have readers or people who are willing to take the time to help me unlearn my ideas, although I should tell you that it's generally best when you do this in a nicer way, as that makes it easier for me, though I have learned from the harsher comments as well and try to do so. In my case especially, unlearning is crucial. Much of what anyone tries to teach me is wasted on me unless I am willing to listen, and how can I listen if I am stubbornly clinging to my own idea and trying to defend it? I have to drop the preconceived notion or abandon what I was formerly taught in order to assimilate or at least understand the new information. This is not something that comes easily to me, but I realize now how much I need to try to do it. There is no gain without an effort, after all; "yagati u'matzati."
At least I have a place to start, the desire to want to know or figure out how to develop thoughts and ideas. Now I just have to figure out how to do it, or if it can even be taught.
Thursday, September 06, 2007
Biblical Parallels: Noah and Lot
Noah and Lot are extremely similar characters. They are both survivors, their situation such that it is only they and their families who remain alive. One survives water, the other fire and brimstone, but it is they who must flee and who seem to be in a position to repopulate the world.
Noah and Lot are both people who separate themselves from others. The midrash states that Noah set himself apart from his sinful generation, preferring to seclude himself and live in an isolated manner, desiring to have nothing to do with his fellow man. Similarly, in Genesis 13, Lot separates from Abraham, preferring to live in Sodom. Fascinatingly, if you read the verse in a particular way, he reminds you of Noah!
י וַיִּשָּׂא-לוֹט אֶת-עֵינָיו, וַיַּרְא אֶת-כָּל-כִּכַּר הַיַּרְדֵּן, כִּי כֻלָּהּ, מַשְׁקֶה--לִפְנֵי שַׁחֵת יְהוָה, אֶת-סְדֹם וְאֶת-עֲמֹרָה, כְּגַן-יְהוָה כְּאֶרֶץ מִצְרַיִם, בֹּאֲכָה צֹעַר.
10 And Lot lifted up his eyes, and beheld all the plain of the Jordan, that it was well watered every where, before the LORD destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah, like the garden of the LORD, like the land of Egypt, as thou goest unto Zoar.
Sodom and Gomorrah reminded Lot of "the garden of the Lord." This is an extremely telling phrase, as it instantly brings to mind images of Paradise and the Garden of Eden. It also reminds one of the idea of Pardes, the garden which Elisha ben Avuyah and his fellows entered. Now, in that case, Pardes does not necessarily mean a literal garden but deep secrets of the Torah. Here too, then, it could seem as though Lot were choosing this place because it was a garden of the Lord, that is, he felt that he was serving God by going to Sodom! This is certainly not the classic portrayal of Lot, but it is significant nonetheless.
Interestingly, again according to the midrash, both Noah and Lot need to be rescued. Noah needs to be rescued from the men who want to attack and stone him for prophesying doom. The Hebrew words b'etzem hayom hazeh connote this; Noah entered the Ark in broad daylight, defying the men who stood poised with rocks and who had stated that they would stop him. God prevents them from harming him in any way. Lot, too, must be rescued, once by Abraham (in terms of natural warfare) and once by the angels/ God.
In the most obvious parallel, neither Noah nor Lot are worthy of being saved (or rather, they are not so worthy that they can look upon the dead.) My father and I learned a Torah Temimah (I'm forgetting which verse it was on) which suggested that the reason there was no window in the Ark, but merely a gem in order to give light, was because Noah was not so righteous that he was permitted to look upon the dead bodies floating upon the water. This is obviously the same by Lot; he too did not deserve to be saved in his own merit and therefore was not permitted to look upon the destruction of others.
But amazingly, there is yet another parallel; one that I completely missed! I was in the Stern Beit Midrash today and picked up a book (which is fascinating) and read about the entire parallel and thought it was incredibly interesting. The book is entitled New Interpretations on the Parsha and is by Rabbi Yehuda Henkin. He has a really beautiful insight into the meaning behind the parallels.
I am not such a fan of the imagined confrontation between Noach and Avraham, nor do I think it necessary to explain a phrase that appears in Chapter 6 in light of actions that take place in Chapter 9. But I do think the parallel behind the drunkenness and the child committing some kind of sexual act is brilliant!
It's really fascinating to compare their different responses. Noah curses his child (or the grandchild), "Cursed be Canaan; a servant of servants shall he be unto his brethren." He is angry; he seems vehemently against the indignity practiced upon him, and oddly, unlike what Rabbi Henken seems to suggest, he doesn't blame himself so much as the child. We hear nothing from Lot. Lot is silent.
Perhaps Lot's silence speaks louder than Noah's angry accusations. But then again, he "knew not" so perhaps Rabbi Henken's point remains, and one can understand someone choosing to know or not to know.
This puts me in mind of the Pharaoh who "didn't know" Joseph. I think the "not knowing" in that situation is similar to Lot's "not knowing" about his daughters, in light of the fact that a similar thing happened to Noah, and in that case, Noah did know.
I really like this idea. We have the choice to know or not to know, to know ourselves and our own flaws and what we have done or what has been done to us. And the admirable person is the one who chooses to know. So let us know our flaws, and deal with them, and then move forward.
It's a beautiful idea.
Noah and Lot are both people who separate themselves from others. The midrash states that Noah set himself apart from his sinful generation, preferring to seclude himself and live in an isolated manner, desiring to have nothing to do with his fellow man. Similarly, in Genesis 13, Lot separates from Abraham, preferring to live in Sodom. Fascinatingly, if you read the verse in a particular way, he reminds you of Noah!
י וַיִּשָּׂא-לוֹט אֶת-עֵינָיו, וַיַּרְא אֶת-כָּל-כִּכַּר הַיַּרְדֵּן, כִּי כֻלָּהּ, מַשְׁקֶה--לִפְנֵי שַׁחֵת יְהוָה, אֶת-סְדֹם וְאֶת-עֲמֹרָה, כְּגַן-יְהוָה כְּאֶרֶץ מִצְרַיִם, בֹּאֲכָה צֹעַר.
10 And Lot lifted up his eyes, and beheld all the plain of the Jordan, that it was well watered every where, before the LORD destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah, like the garden of the LORD, like the land of Egypt, as thou goest unto Zoar.
Sodom and Gomorrah reminded Lot of "the garden of the Lord." This is an extremely telling phrase, as it instantly brings to mind images of Paradise and the Garden of Eden. It also reminds one of the idea of Pardes, the garden which Elisha ben Avuyah and his fellows entered. Now, in that case, Pardes does not necessarily mean a literal garden but deep secrets of the Torah. Here too, then, it could seem as though Lot were choosing this place because it was a garden of the Lord, that is, he felt that he was serving God by going to Sodom! This is certainly not the classic portrayal of Lot, but it is significant nonetheless.
Interestingly, again according to the midrash, both Noah and Lot need to be rescued. Noah needs to be rescued from the men who want to attack and stone him for prophesying doom. The Hebrew words b'etzem hayom hazeh connote this; Noah entered the Ark in broad daylight, defying the men who stood poised with rocks and who had stated that they would stop him. God prevents them from harming him in any way. Lot, too, must be rescued, once by Abraham (in terms of natural warfare) and once by the angels/ God.
In the most obvious parallel, neither Noah nor Lot are worthy of being saved (or rather, they are not so worthy that they can look upon the dead.) My father and I learned a Torah Temimah (I'm forgetting which verse it was on) which suggested that the reason there was no window in the Ark, but merely a gem in order to give light, was because Noah was not so righteous that he was permitted to look upon the dead bodies floating upon the water. This is obviously the same by Lot; he too did not deserve to be saved in his own merit and therefore was not permitted to look upon the destruction of others.
But amazingly, there is yet another parallel; one that I completely missed! I was in the Stern Beit Midrash today and picked up a book (which is fascinating) and read about the entire parallel and thought it was incredibly interesting. The book is entitled New Interpretations on the Parsha and is by Rabbi Yehuda Henkin. He has a really beautiful insight into the meaning behind the parallels.
- "Noach awoke from his wine and knew what his youngest son had done to him." One interpretation in the talmud is that there had been a homosexual act. There is a very similar story in Berishit chapter 19. After the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, Lot and his two daughters found themselves alone in the mountains. "The eldest daughter said to the younger, "Let us make our father drink wine and we will lie with him, and bear children from our father." That night they made their father drink wine, and the elder daughter came and lay with her father. He did not know of her lying down or of her getting up" (19: 31-33).
Noach was drunk, but afterwards when sober he knew what had taken place between him and his son. How did he know? He wanted to know. A righteous person- the Noah-type- sins, but he gets up the next morning and tells G-d, "I'm not perfect. I've done what I shouldn't have and I haven't done what I should." He is aware of his own failings.
Lot was also drunk. Lot, too, sinned in his drunkenness, but "he did not know of her lying down or of her getting up." The pseudo-righteous person, the Lot-type, does not recognize his sins. He cannot face his failings. Self-awareness is a threat to him. And, since he denies he sinned, he sins again. Lot's elder daughter lay with him the first night- is it any wonder his younger daughter lay with him the next? (19: 35).
Imagine a confrontation between Noach and Lot. Lot would say, "You, Noach, are hardly a tzaddik. Look at what you did when you were drunk. And what kind of son have you raised?" What could Noach answer? That Lot, too, slept with his daughters? Lot denies everything! After all, he lived over ten years with his illustrious uncle and must have learned much from him. Didn't God send angels to save him alone from the destruction of Sodom? Certainly, such a person has cause to think he is special- perhaps not quite on the level of Avraham, but head and shoulders above everyone else!
Rather, the greatness of Noach lies in that he knew what he did. This is why the Torah could say, in spite of his drunkenness, "Noach was a righteous person; he was wholesome in his generations" (6:9).
(pages 7-8)
I am not such a fan of the imagined confrontation between Noach and Avraham, nor do I think it necessary to explain a phrase that appears in Chapter 6 in light of actions that take place in Chapter 9. But I do think the parallel behind the drunkenness and the child committing some kind of sexual act is brilliant!
It's really fascinating to compare their different responses. Noah curses his child (or the grandchild), "Cursed be Canaan; a servant of servants shall he be unto his brethren." He is angry; he seems vehemently against the indignity practiced upon him, and oddly, unlike what Rabbi Henken seems to suggest, he doesn't blame himself so much as the child. We hear nothing from Lot. Lot is silent.
Perhaps Lot's silence speaks louder than Noah's angry accusations. But then again, he "knew not" so perhaps Rabbi Henken's point remains, and one can understand someone choosing to know or not to know.
This puts me in mind of the Pharaoh who "didn't know" Joseph. I think the "not knowing" in that situation is similar to Lot's "not knowing" about his daughters, in light of the fact that a similar thing happened to Noah, and in that case, Noah did know.
I really like this idea. We have the choice to know or not to know, to know ourselves and our own flaws and what we have done or what has been done to us. And the admirable person is the one who chooses to know. So let us know our flaws, and deal with them, and then move forward.
It's a beautiful idea.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
laughing at myself
- I live in my own place,
have never copied nobody even half,
and at any master who lacks the grace
to laugh at himself—I laugh.
OVER THE DOOR TO MY HOUSE
- ~preface to Nietzsche's The Gay Science
I can honestly tell you I never understood this until now. Who wants to be laughed at? We all have a fear of being made ridiculous. Nobody likes to be mocked and nobody likes others to think they are stupid.
But think, oh think, of how much you cannot do so long as you are busy worrying about what everyone else will think? Why did I not see this before? Why am I so colossally dense at times?
This epiphany occurred to me in Hebrew class today. "Come, Chana," I coached myself, "are you really not going to talk at all just because you know you speak poorly? Then how are you ever going to learn!" And so I have talked in the most mangled, garbled Hebrew possible (well, that's a bit of an exaggeration, but you get the gist of it) and do you know, it made me happy! I was cracking up the whole time! Because my God, what a joke! It's hilarious; it's absolutely funny. And if I treat it all as a game, for the strangest reason it doesn't bother me at all! I suppose I shouldn't have liked it if everyone had started laughing at me at once, but seeing as we're all there to learn, why should I be scared?
It's so irrational, all these fears of mine. Who cares? Why should I care? Why should I need to be serious in order to be respected, and in fact, whose respect do I need to earn if I have my own self-respect? And if I don't have mine, then we really have problems...What is this blog if not me making a fool of myself day in and day out? Imagine how many of these concepts and ideas that I express now will make me cringe one day in the future, imagine how I shall look back and laugh at all of them and wonder how anyone was able to stand me in all my idiocy! For some reason, this does not make me sad but very happy, and do you know why? Because it means I shall have grown.
But it's not limited to me! The joke's on all of us! In the future, we are going to look back and think that everything is futile and ridiculous and we shall laugh over the effort we have expended, but it will be the good kind of laughter, not the despairing kind, because we will know that at least we tried. We shall simply laugh because of what we envisioned ourselves to be as opposed to what we were, how we tried to hide behind bluster and facades when in truth, in truth? Oh, what were we in truth? Clouds, fleeting shadows, everything that is described... This seems extremely funny to me!
So why should I care? If I'm going to make a fool of myself, let me do it proudly! Let it be done happily! Out with the rouge and the red lipstick and the craziness and the insanity; if I am going to be foolish, then let me be foolish, let me make all my mistakes and do the things I will regret and possibly wreck my life over, let me do them all and cry over them, but at least let me do them and let me laugh through my tears. Yes, let me be a fool, for I know I am one, so why bother pretending to be anything but?
Have you read the fantastic poem by Jenny Joseph? It's such a happy poem.
Warning
by Jenny Joseph
WHEN I AM AN OLD WOMAN I SHALL WEAR PURPLE
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.
*
Let's redo it! I shall have to redo it to be, "When I am a Young Girl, I Shall Laugh at Myself." And I shall rejoice in all my idiocies and all my mistakes, for how could I move forward without them? And sometimes I shall be incredibly serious and somber and take myself very seriously, and sometimes I shall be unhappy, and sometimes it will be with good reason, but most of the time I will laugh at myself and everything that is, for there is nothing more entertaining than oneself, now is there?
What could be more entertaining than watching all the mistakes I make and repenting of them within moments of making them? I tell you, my life is my one great drama; it is a pity that I am the only one who gets to benefit from its intrigues and strange charm. I am such a muddle of things that I must confuse anyone I meet, if they even think of me at all- and if they do not, how charming; that is one more thing to laugh about! Let us laugh about the things that seem to matter so much in the dark of the night and matter not one whit in the light of the morning, let us laugh over everything, but let us laugh joyfully! For I shall not destroy with this laughter, but gently undo, and gently tear down, and gently teach myself what I do not want to know, and that is to let go...
Strange how my mind knows all it wants to teach me, but it will only let me see it when I am ready.
"Blessed are they who can laugh at themselves, for they shall never cease to be amused." ~Anonymous
Yes, blessed, blessed laughter!
Controlling One's Anger
Suppose you had a friend who didn't do as well on a project as he had hoped. Suppose you offered this friend a particularly legitimate scapegoat on whom to vent his anger, someone who is certainly worthy of at least part of the blame. Suppose that you've done this numerous times before and your offer has always been accepted, mostly because it makes the other person feel better and alleviates their feeling responsible for their own actions. Of course, after some thought, they will come to realize that responsibility; they just prefer to push it aside for the moment.
Suppose that your friend defies all precedent and informs you, "It wouldn't be fair of me to take out my frustration on someone who doesn't deserve it. Then I would just be angrier at myself later." This despite the fact that you are completely willing to be the scapegoat.
Is this not the most incredible person?! How many people do you know who could control their anger that well?
I like to sing people's praises when they deserve praise; at the moment I feel quite like shouting this out to everyone I know. The fact that such a person even exists makes my day about a million times better. I can't get it off my mind, so I figured I might as well write about it.
A related idea, and one which also applies to my friend:
I think this is uniquely applicable here. Thought that is worth calling thought has no mercy on itself; that is the dreadful proof of its quality. The same applies to a value system that is worth calling a value system, morals that are worth calling morals, and a person who quite probably sincerely wishes that he could blame someone else but who doesn't believe it to be fair.
How am I so lucky as to know all these amazing people?!
Suppose that your friend defies all precedent and informs you, "It wouldn't be fair of me to take out my frustration on someone who doesn't deserve it. Then I would just be angrier at myself later." This despite the fact that you are completely willing to be the scapegoat.
Is this not the most incredible person?! How many people do you know who could control their anger that well?
I like to sing people's praises when they deserve praise; at the moment I feel quite like shouting this out to everyone I know. The fact that such a person even exists makes my day about a million times better. I can't get it off my mind, so I figured I might as well write about it.
A related idea, and one which also applies to my friend:
- "That gimcrack style is her way of admitting to your Mamma that she herself knows that not a word of what she says is true. Really it is wonderful to see how this simple mind has developed this device for protecting itself from despair. But more complicated minds do not enjoy such protection. Thought that is worth calling thought has no mercy on itself, that is the dreadful proof of its quality."
~The Fountain Overflows, page 334
I think this is uniquely applicable here. Thought that is worth calling thought has no mercy on itself; that is the dreadful proof of its quality. The same applies to a value system that is worth calling a value system, morals that are worth calling morals, and a person who quite probably sincerely wishes that he could blame someone else but who doesn't believe it to be fair.
How am I so lucky as to know all these amazing people?!
Russian Homework- Ha!
See, I am doing my homework. I am! I am! (click for larger image)
Related: One cannot read A Clockwork Orange without understanding Russian. I suddenly understand the mutilated English. Me and my droogs? Droogs means friends in Russian. It's all making sense now.
No more homies; I've got droogs!
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