Entrust your pain to the community
A few months ago, I read this essay called: “Two Lessons learned from this Ancient Piece that Changed My Life” written by Sharon Brous who is a Rabbi. This is an excerpt from The New York Times. “A somewhat obscure text called the Mishnah, which is a very old Jewish legal document has been my unlikely teacher and guide for the past many years, and my north star. The Mishnah gave hope to all in need as they circled the Temple of Jerusalem. For those in pain, they would turn to the left and the ones giving care and compassion would turn to the right. They would meet in the middle facing each other and the ones from the right would say the words “I see you.”
“When your heart is broken, when the specter of death visits your family, when you feel lost and alone and inclined to retreat, you show up. Entrust your pain to the community. For example, when you walk you encounter those who are in pain and you can give comfort knowing that you will someday experience pain. You give comfort and blessings.”
“This timeless wisdom speaks to what it means to be human in a world of pain. This year, you walk the path of the anguished. Perhaps next year, it will be me who walks. I hold your broken heart knowing that one day you will hold mine. Don’t isolate. Step toward those whom you know will hold you tenderly.”
As a result, of war. homelessness, violence and poverty our world is in the midst of gripping pain. It tears our spirits and creates anguish. However, look to that which gives one hope from the ground up to keep living with vitality. How can we open ourselves to this and contribute to peace and love. What keeps us moving toward the light that is underneath the shadow?
To love again is to live in the present. Practice living again even in the midst of whatever state you feel. I sit on the precipice of a change. Above all, what will shape my heart to become whole? Seamus Heaney says: ” Hope is a condition of the soul, not a response to the circumstances in which you find yourself.” In conclusion, sit and watch and feel the change come over you. Be present, show up, entrust your whole self to the community.
The past few years I have experienced not only illness and change in my own life, but also the death of my closest friend. I just finished having some surgery at NYU Langone and it was successful. I will turn 70 in June and I am on the brink of new purpose. I am optimistic not because I have all the answers, but because I have met vulnerability with resilience. I can say “I see you. I recognize you. I comfort you.”