It is Time

It’s time to write a book. Or at least it’s time to put my files in order. Or maybe buy that scanner and get rid of all that paper. Or start an online course or find a good book but of course I am doing none of it. All I tend to do is run down my battery on my laptop.

Although I did make a “Mellow” playlist this morning on Spotify. Kudos (there is probably a more “woke” word than that) to Lab/Shul for their link to a Healing Playlist. https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6ZLvq2LbdOxDn6MMsBFA1B

It probably isn’t for everyone, but it felt good to at least do something. (PS – it is possible the link won’t work unless you have Spotify — above my pay grade.)

I don’t know about you, but I feel somewhat powerless. I am observing the laws of social distancing and sheltering in place. Whoever came up with these phrases did a good job knitting them into our shared language pool. I am washing my hands way more than ever before and have discovered that the creases in between my fingers are part of my hands as are the backs or tops and they all need to be scrubbed in the 2X Happy Birthday ritual. I am not making fun of any of this. I am commenting to myself how we create and develop new social norms.

What is true for me is that as isolating as all of this can be, the reality that it teaches me is that we are part of the same collective. There is an organic connection between us, and the virus is teaching us to be conscious that we are connected in many more ways than we ever thought. It is teaching us to be appreciative of the people who care for us like the medical community, like the education community, like the people who stock the shelves of our grocery stores, like the manager at Publix who greeted everyone who was in line to get into the store cheerfully, handing them an already sanitized cart.

It is making us adapt in large and small ways. Like I thought we were making chicken soup today but there was no chicken. So, I am going to try and recreate my mother’s sweet and sour cabbage borscht. (I guess the book will have to wait.) It is reminding us to be kinder It is connecting us even as it separates us. Loudly and clearly it says: this is a very small world and what happens in China happens here. And wouldn’t it be great if at the end of the day it motivated our world to work collectively and cooperatively because all borders are really artificial.

Vulnerable

She beat me to it. Not that I was asked to write for the NY Times Sunday Review, but I so resonated with Mary Pipher’s piece: “I Love the World, but I Cannot Stay”. Thinking about death and thinking about your own dying is not something we do very often. Although being in the Rabbi business I have seen a lot of end of life scenarios and shared many diverse and personal rituals of passing. They invariably remind me in some unexpected way of my own time in this realm of existence and when or how it will end.

The coronavirus has not helped. The media reports that the virus is especially lethal to our elderly and those with underlying medical conditions. No matter what my heart and spirit say – one of those is me. I read every article about how to protect yourself. I am washing my hands many more times a day. I am trying not to touch my face but even just writing these words makes my nose itch. And I want in Pipher’s words: “to die young as late as possible.” But it’s not in my control no matter how much hand sanitizer I rub into my hands.

It brings me to Purim, our holiday of the month. Esther is waiting in the wings to appear in the King’s bedroom. Mordechai is watching and observing how the virus of hatred and prejudice is spreading in the ante chambers of Haman’s mind. Ahasuerus is oblivious just wanting to keep the party going enjoying the trappings of power. And God is hinting that we better work this out amongst ourselves since HE/SHE is silent throughout the book.

And it is not quite a pandemic as we hold our breaths to see what and where the Coronavirus will do with itself and how it will infiltrate our lives as we go from supermarket to pharmacy to see if there has been a delivery of Purell. Yesterday I was in a meeting where we were planning a community gathering for a month from now and we knew out loud that the public aspect of the assembly was at risk since no one knew what the future held.

Of course, even before we had ever heard of the term Coronavirus, no one knew what the future held. Life is really about that even if we aren’t ready to admit it. Existentially every step is precarious, and every handshake exchange is more than a willingness to be open and extend good wishes of peace and harmony. Even before the virus emerged to place our finitude and fear at the center of our daily story, we transferred our own genetic material to each other with barely a touch.

The struggle for me is to find balance and act appropriately caring for myself and others. A friend of mine reminded me that in the Mussar world it is “equanimity” that we need. In Hebrew the term is “Menuchat Hanefesh” and it translates loosely as “rest for the soul” or “tranquility”. But here is the thing about the Mussar teachers: it is not a passive soul trait. It is not wait and see. It is not blind trust and leaving it all in the hands of God. It is balance. Finding your way through these corridors of confusion and living with both joy and appropriate caution. Finding a place for your anxiety and channeling it to proper safeguards. Finding the courage to be and not letting fear paralyze.

It is amazing how something so small that you cannot see with your naked eye can be such a large test for our society. The days and weeks ahead will tell us if we fail or succeed. And success is not just about a vaccine or cure. Success is government working in the interest of the people. Success is all of us caring compassionately for each other. Success is love is love is love.