Navigating the Fog, Anchoring our Souls

It’s been a long time since I last posted. There have been so many times I tried to sit down and write but just couldn’t complete my thoughts. Other times, I desperately wanted to share but didn’t have the time. What a whirlwind it has been these last few weeks. Between daily Covid checklists and temperature checks, holidays and cooking, shopping lists and menus, free time was not something I had much of and neither did most people. My emotions have been running high as the world around us continues to plunge us into uncharted waters, endless what if’s and mountains of uncertainties. Sometimes it’s hard to know what to believe or how to think. Making the right decision has become a tiresome and effortful task. As a mom trying to navigate these unprecedented times, it’s not always easy and I certainly do not have all the answers. I often talk to Hashem and ask for His advice on what to do. I know He is always there and always listening but I definitely feel that He has been around us more closely these last few weeks, and it comforts me despite the scary times we are living in. I have tried to come up with ways to understand what is happening and of course, my human and finite mind cannot do that. But I do have an idea that I would like to share on how we can all get through this and come out stronger too.

Back in March, when Corona began to hit home for many of us, we, as a nation, banded together, helping each other, any way we could. At the time, I really felt special to be a part of Am Yisroel. I still remember the echoes of lecha dodi, sung by my family and neighbors in the streets as I lit the Shabbos candles. The quiet voices in unison piercing every heart that was able to listen. The many volunteers who offered to shop for those that couldn’t leave home, and deliver flowers to lonely seniors just to brighten their day. Despite the sadness and the deaths and the endless shiva announcements, there was hope for better days and an appreciation for what we did have. Fast forward a few months, and the fatigue of quarantine and social distancing really set in. Debates over masks and freedom of rights began to ring in the streets and replace the serene calmness and unity that existed before. Differences of opinion, sometimes harsh and angry words divided the people in heart and mind and resentment and judgement replaced feelings of love and connection. The needs of “me” began to take over the needs of “we” and as a people, we became a bit uglier again. But the virus did not go away. And the beginning of a new year was here. It was time to reflect, to recognize who was and still is in charge, to beg for forgiveness and make promises to do better. With the end of Yom Kippur, we hoped for clean slates and the chance to start fresh. We joyfully prepared and decorated our temporary homes, subjected to the elements of the weather and nature, feelings of security stemming only from our souls as we looked towards the sky and thanked Hashem for protecting us all these years no matter the challenges. And today, our temporary homes have been packed up once again, and we retreat into our sturdy walls that shutter us from the rest of the world if we so choose.

Throughout these weeks, we painfully contrasted the bustling volume of guests we hosted in our homes and at our kotel in the past, to the quiet few that joined us in celebration this year. A stark and painful contrast with much hidden meaning and a lesson for us all to keep close to our hearts. As the holiday of sukkot ended, shmini atzeret and simchat torah began. It is said that shmini atzeret is a special day, where Hashem chooses to rejoice and spend time with us alone, without the fanfare and tremendous celebrations. After all, who needs an elaborate party when all you want to do is sit and talk with the ones you love? And what better way to celebrate our relationship with G-d than to celebrate His eternal gift to us, the Torah. By learning torah, and following G-d’s commandments, we solidify and strengthen our relationship with Him each day. And in turn, we feel more complete, more fulfilled, as the Torah helps to guide us when we don’t have the answers. How apropos is it then, that even after Rosh Hashana, we begin yet another beginning, by reading Parshat Bereishit, as we do this week. The Parsha begins by telling us how the world was created, in what order, and what was created for us, to use and enjoy. And then, sadly, it is also a reminder of what can happen if we veer off the path of Hashem, and choose not to heed His words.

Corona was designed by Hashem. It has certainly thrown us for a loop, shaken us to our core, and changed what we have perceived to be normal. But what if our job is to learn to navigate through the fog, and find our purpose anyway? Stick to our values and keep pushing despite the difficulty? Find beauty in simplicity and strip down the unnecessary layers that cloud our eyes and our judgment? What if we recognize that despite the uncertainty, our anchor has never left? He has been here all along. From bereishit until now, He has shown us the way, and as long as we don’t forget that, eventually the fog will clear. His glory will be revealed.

So maybe it’s time to start again. Maybe it’s time to realize that “normal” was perhaps meant to be changed. Maybe we were meant to re evaluate how we have done things all this time. Maybe we were meant to be alone for now. To have a chance to connect with G-d, figure out who we are and why we are here. Maybe we need the quiet. Maybe we forgot how to treat our siblings and need to strive to do better. Maybe it’s time we anchor our souls. Let’s stop wishing for normal and start appreciating the now. Let’s learn to be kinder and more understanding and find ways to continue to help others despite our differences of opinions. Let’s try to bring back the unity that made us special in the first place. Reignite the spark we all share. Let’s strip away the layers and just be. No fanfare. Just us and Hashem. And maybe through our simplicity and unity, we can merit for the fog to be cleared, once and for all, may it come speedily in our days.