We are, from childhood, pitched an illusion of life as
half-hour sit-com: troubles may befall
us, but they are always wrapped up neatly with a chuckle and a lesson. We delude ourselves that life is neat – not
perfect, but at least predictable, rational, organized. While we can function within this mindset most
of the time, it will eventually break down.
Sometimes, the gapping maw of the uncontrollable, the ugly,
or the painful tears into our lives and darkens our tidy worlds. Sometimes, there’s an outbreak.
When the unpredictable befalls us, do we reject, accept, or
embrace it? Do we toss about, unable to
find a foothold in a stormy, unrecognizable place? Do we insist on the previous paradigm of
order – seeking to make sense of the outbreak as punishment for some previous
violation of order? Do we retooling
ourselves for a brave new world? Or do
we shift our understanding, allow it to grow, acknowledging and even embracing
unpredictability, letting go of control?
"It
is by going down into the abyss that we recover the treasures of life. Where you stumble, there lies your
treasure. The very cave you are afraid
to enter turns out to be the source of what you are looking for." –Joseph Campbell
Judaism offers rituals to acknowledge our visits to the
abyss, and our return to “normalcy,” changed though we are. When we bury a loved one, we a rip a kriyah ribbon, symbol of the irreparably
torn fabric of our lives. When we
survive an accident, we bench gomel,
acknowledging the precariousness of our lives.
When we survive illness or attack, we may visit the mikveh to experience our own re-birth. These mark our return, changed, but whole
once again.
No comments:
Post a Comment