Transitions Are Hard
Photo by Bankim Desai on Unsplash
Imagine that you are Abraham, 75 years old, living ~4000 years ago in northern Mesopotamia in the city of Haran, which means “crossroads.”
Suddenly, you undergo an epiphany—a moment of Divine revelation that calls to you: “Lech Lecha-Go forth from your country, from your native land, from your father's house to the land that I will show you."
In other words - Leave your entire civilization, your culture, your city and almost everyone you know in the world and go to a place you don’t know but will be shown to you.
Jaw drop.
Go for no other reason than… a moment of Divine revelation?!? Not politics, not economic disaster, not war, not any other normal reason to up and leave everything you know.
And then, if you are Abraham, you naturally want to share this with your wife.
Imagine that conversation...
“Hey, Sarah, I just experienced Divine revelation and well, we need to pack our bags and go…”
Boy, would I like to have been a fly on that wall!
In many commentaries, it is Abraham that is labelled the epitome of faith.
But in my commentary, it is Sarah who is even on a higher level than her husband for never having heard the Divine revelation directly and still believing in G!D and her husband’s report of his experience.
What can we learn from Abraham and Sarah on their journey that we can use on our own?
What practices and mindset will help us in the years to come?
I am thankful to the Institute for Jewish Spirituality, which is where I learned to meditate and practice mindfulness.
Mindfulness and meditation give your brain a rest by teaching you to focus on the present moment only. Not reliving the past or perseverating about the future.
Be Here Now.
And most of the time, “now” is good place. Palm trees, sun, nice temperatures… in other words, the apocalypse has not yet arrived.
And deep, slow breathing also calms your parasympathetic nervous system.
And I remember my training from The Mussar Institute in mussar, the Jewish practice of character development.
One of the character traits that almost everyone needs to strengthen is Bitachon / Trust.
Imagine the level of bitachon that Abraham and Sarah must have had to uproot themselves from all they knew and go on a journey into the unknown!
As Dr. Alan Morinis writes in his mussar masterpiece Everyday Holiness:
“The soul yearns to trust. No one wants to live with anxiety and worry. When I am in the place where trust runs strong, life is manageable, and when trust has slipped away, life is a difficult, daunting struggle… When we cultivate trust, we inevitably loosen the grip fear holds on our heart…”
“Bitachon,” he goes on to write, “is the inner attitude that respects that whatever is happening in our lives is nothing more or less than the curriculum that God gives us, through any of the myriad channels God has available in the world.”
Of all the qualities that mussar study has asked me to work on and internalize, I find this one to be the hardest.
Both because I struggle with the classic Biblical/Rabbinic view of G!D, and I like my control.
And yet, I am well aware that when we surf on top of the waves, rather than struggle with them, there is more ease in life.
As I’ve written previously, now is the time to dwell in the characteristic of Bitachon / Trust as we embark on a Lech Lecha journey similar to Abraham and Sarah's.
Not because (G!D forbid) we should be passive. But because dwelling in anxiety and fear is not healthy and doesn't give us strength for our journey.
In sum, here is a beautiful description of Abraham and Sarah and how their story speaks to us today:
A middle-aged couple goes forth into the wilderness armed only with a promise.
Their journey of self-discovery, begun 4000 years ago, continues to this day.
You and I are the heirs to their ongoing process of becoming, their ever-unfolding tale of character and deed that each of us authors in his own life and time.
As we read their story, we join them as they embark on their journey toward an unnamed land and an unknown future." (Wrestling With Angels, Naomi Rosenblatt, pp. 91-92)
Shabbat Shalom
