Life Is Full of Goodbyes

Life is full of goodbyes.

So often we connect with people, we leave a part of ourselves with them, only to have to eventually say goodbye. This happens for some people more often than others. Some people connect more deeply or more easily. Life is about being able to leave that bit we give to the other person (or people) behind and keep moving forward.

I was having this conversation with a client a few days ago. She was talking about how it was hard to just let go of her relationships with her ex's family. She had great relationships with them and nothing against them. Whereas she didn't want to see or talk to her ex ever again, she missed his family whom she had been a part of for over ten years. We talked about how in life there are so many people you have to say goodbye to. Sometimes these people have left a piece of themselves with you, sometimes you with them, and sometimes it's both.

This happens in so many ways. Professionally, I face it all the time. I will often wonder how a client is doing long after they aren't a client any longer. They shared so much with me, I saw them through so much, and then they disappear as they go about their lives. It's how it's supposed to be. I'd imagine there are many professions like that. Teaching is similar, especially if it's one-on-one.

We can't always hold onto relationships we have. And we're not meant to. I'm sure I've written about this before, how relationships can be like bridges. They can help us get somewhere, but we don't necessarily need them once we've crossed them. People come into our lives for various reasons. I know I've met people that have enriched my life in so many ways even after they're no longer around.

I've written quite a bit on breakups, but this one post about love and loss comes to mind.

It's not the goodbyes that make us better perhaps, but to paraphrase a line from Romeo and Juliet, parting is always a sweet sorrow. It makes us look toward what is next up for us. Looking forward is always more helpful than looking back. (It is helpful to learn from mistakes, for sure, but that's always for a looking forward purpose.) Looking forward doesn't cheapen the experience we had, but it does let us file it away.

Hoping For A Change

We all have our vices. For some people they're innocent –– an extra piece of cake, a handful of candy, lots of shoes, whatever. Other people struggle with more "addictive" habits. Sometimes these things are actual defects of character –– an anger management issue, excessive arrogance, etc. Sometimes the person is defined by this bad habit or struggle.

For the million dollar question: can this, will this, person change? Maybe you're a good influence on him/her. Maybe you bring out the best in him/her. Will you marry him/her knowing that you can't change him/her and s/he may not change even if s/he promises s/he will/is changing?

First things first: people can change.

Prelude to that though, changes someone makes for someone else don't tend to last.

What happens, too, when that person is under stress? Do those habits come back? How disciplined is this person? Does that even matter? Habits are ingrained. They create pathways in one's brain. An alcoholic can slip back into the drink even after years and years of sobriety.

If it's a middos thing, I would venture to say that working on one's middos in a skillful way can really change who s/he is. But even then, in a stressful situation perhaps old habits will rear their head. It might just take a slight thing that will send the person spiraling. But then, the person who has had to work through a challenge is that much stronger in the face of adversity. No one is perfect.

There's no clear answer to this question, but I will leave you with this. You need to really like and accept the person for who s/he is even with this shortcoming. If this person does not change, or if this person slips back into old ways, you need to know that you can live with him/her.

You can't marry someone hoping they will change.

Committment Phobia

Planning a Shabbaton, or more accurately a small weekend getaway with a handful of friends, made me realize how commitment-phobic people can be. I get it, life happens; things are going on, and people need to be able to flake. I know I don't like to schedule things for a few months out, because at this stage in the game I'm always secretly hoping that my life is going to be infinitely different in a few months, that there will be someone in my life who I will want to spend all my time with and change all my plans for.

Samuel Decker Thompson said it perfectly, "We are all just a car crash, a diagnosis, an unexpected phone call, a newfound love or broken heart away from becoming a completely different person."

Even so, the Shabbaton I'm working on isn't months out, it's a few days away. Something that everyone, myself included, can work on is realizing that plans can be changed in the event of an emergency or something grandly more important. Even if it costs a little extra money, emotional energy, whatever, not making decisions isn't always safety, you can lose out on so much. Not making a decision is making a decision too.

This is true in relationships, but this is also true with committing to most things. Relationships are probably the quintessential example though. It's about being resistant to change, to not being able to look ahead and make decisions for your future.

If you aren't familiar with Spencer Johnson's Who Moved My Cheese, a parable about how different personalities deal with change, here's a link to a summary video. It's worth the 3 minutes.

Sniff and Scurry find their way to the new cheese (whatever it is that is valuable and your goal in life), while Hem and Haw, well, hem and haw. Haw learns valuable lessons along the way, while we don't know what happens to Hem.

There's so much less on the line committing to, or backing out of, a Shabbaton, than what's at stake when we're talking relationships. Relationship anxiety a lot of the time is rooted in fear of emotional intimacy or stems from previous bad relationship experiences. Not being able to make choices in general can have many other causes. Sometimes it's really just a heavy duty case of FOMO (I'm not kidding). People may not commit to one thing, because they are always wondering what else they may be missing out on. Sometimes people have a hard time with decisions, because they're codependent and they're always trying to figure out what the other person wants and have convinced themselves that they don't have a preference. Sometimes it's much deeper rooted, and the person probably should speak to a professional who can help him/her get to the bottom of it.

With all that said, I'm going to toot my own horn for a moment and say that in the end we rounded up enough people to make the Shabbaton happen (financially worthwhile and all that) and worked out destination/location/property all in just a few days. I should get one of those tshirts that say, "I make things happen. What's your superpower?"

Seriously though, I think the more invested someone is in something, the more s/he can make decisions to make it happen. The less s/he cares about it (even if s/he's lying to himself that s/he really does care...actions not words), the less s/he will take a hard look at why s/he's having a hard time committing.

Reset: Tips To Get Over A Breakup

I'm far from the expert at this. Let me rephrase: I don't want to be an expert at getting over breakups, but I'm going to share some of my own "what works" with you. There are so many things that come along with breaking up with someone, and often when the stakes are high, as they are in shidduch dating (marriage-focused dating and dating in a marriage-focused culture lends to a certain intensity), the hurt is compounded. 

There are so many different aspects to why breakups are hard, but check out some of my (many) other posts for that. Here I want to talk about getting over a breakup especially when you don't really want to. Hanging onto the breakup is us hanging onto whatever semblance we have left of the relationship, even if it's a load of pain.

I recently heard a line that I related to very much. It went something like this, "Don't you ever want to be in a relationship, just so you can relax?" Dating and finding "The One," the whole game, is stressful and, at the very least, annoying. Getting over a breakup takes work too. It doesn't happen by itself. Time helps, sure, but staying in bed eating ice cream watching reruns of your favorite TV show isn't going to help you get over your ex.

I know for myself, after big breakups, it's always necessary for me to reset. How I do this often varies, but preferably it involves taking a vacation (or two). If you can't afford the time off (or financial expense of the trip), weekends away work too. It's about mixing up your usual routine.

Social support, spending time with friends, is really important in a reset too. Picking up new hobbies, like running or crafting, or whatever it is that speaks to you, can help too. I find that writing and talking things out is cathartic and valuable. Feeling your feelings, not denying the sadness and/or anger, is healing as well. Take care of yourself, be kind to yourself, do things that make you happy, even if it feels like those things are few and far between these days. Look forward, and try not to look back. Don't question and analyze. If something is meant to be, it will come around. It doesn't help to live in the past. Emotional clarity will come with a period of no contact (texts, emails, social media stalking, etc.) and time. Go have some fun and remember that you are an awesome amazing person and your worth is not tied up in someone else. You'll have your day, and when that happens you'll be able to look back at the breakup through a new light.

Finding My Way Back

Wish my heart would stop beating
Me up
Wish my head would follow
My heart
Wish this wasn't
So complicated
Wish I could
Make sense of it all

Wish I felt I had a place
In my own life
Wish I could find the page
Where I left off

You took me down
To build me back up again
Dragged me around
But all by my own doing

This story I'm writing
Could be called fiction
Though waking up is hard to do
Falling asleep's impossible too

Trying to put
The pieces back together
Feeling hopeless
But hopeful
Lost and searching
For some new light in this dark tunnel

Love and Loss

For a long time, I had this block against Alfred Lord Tennyson and his quote, "'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." I mean, it's so obvious to me that it's better to have loved and won, right? And, if you have to lose, is it not better to have never played at all, never known what you were missing?

Yesterday I was listening to someone talk about grief and loss. He shared about the profound grief he experienced following the death of a close family member who he regarded as a mentor to him. After that happened he recognized that he closed himself off to close relationships like that one, holding everyone at arms' length, not letting people in, for fear of suffering another heart-wrenching loss. The loss was so intense, because his relationship with this person was that close.

There are myriads of Brene Brown quotes I can insert here, but I'll go with the following from her The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You're Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are:

"Joy is as thorny and sharp as any of the dark emotions. To love someone fiercely, to believe in something with your whole heart, to celebrate a fleeting moment in time, to fully engage in a life that doesn’t come with guarantees—these are risks that involve vulnerability and often pain."

Love costs so much, because it gives so much.

You gotta pay to play, but even if you lose, I'm starting to think it's worth it. Not just because of what is and isn't possible if you open yourself up or close yourself off. The experience itself is enriching. Fostering a close, trusting, loving relationship with someone you care about can change you...even after the person is no longer in your life.

A loss is essentially hard because it means that you've lost a part of yourself that was wrapped up in another person or experience. Grieving means figuring out how to get back to yourself, navigating your new reality, because your life is forever changed. It will never be the same.

Ani L'Dodi V'Dodi Li: Rosh Hashana, Relationships, Love

Rosh Hashana. New beginnings, shofar, being mamlich Hashem melech, teshuva, reflecting on the past year... There is so much that comes to mind when I think about the Yom HaDin. For this post, I want to explore a mindset that will hopefully be helpful for this yuntif.

Last Rosh Hashana I wrote about how fiery speeches about gehenom have not been broadly used to motivate us in recent times. Instead, most popular contemporary baalei mussar have appealed to us through the venue of Hashem’s love for us, and yiraas shamyim and ahavas Hashem are closely intertwined. The yirah is an awareness of s'char v'onesh and a sense of right and wrong; the ahava can be an outlook and a means to achieve the awareness.

I think especially when you feel like you're faced with the same, or similar, challenges over and over, and it's so much easier to disengage, this mindset is so helpful. Going into Rosh Hashana knowing that everything that will happen in the coming year is being decided, thinking that you davened well last year, but are still feeling very stuck, it's a challenge. Focusing on a love and relationship with G-d changes that perspective though. 

I want to expound on that here.

I've found that there are two general schools of thought when it comes to the Yamim Noraim and teshuva. 

One approach is the fire and brimstone, "Shimu na HaMorim!" "Ma L'cha Nirdam?!" We're told that we're asleep, taking our life that G-d graciously gave us and throwing it away. We're labeled hypocritical for rationalizing and excusing our misdeeds as positive actions. Basically, what it boils down to is that we're on a one-way trip to gehenom. We're disconnected from our neshama, and we're going nowhere fast. This style sometimes works to shock us out of complacency. We get scared; we feel regret, and this generates positive change. Sometimes. Yet, many times it backfires. Either it causes us to give up because it seems like we're so far gone, or it breeds excuses. We think to ourselves that we're not that bad; we find something good we're doing in life to get us off the hook.

Approach two is that of a benevolent G-d waiting for His child to bring home a test even with just a "C" circled in red on top. I've heard Rabbi Baruch Leff speak about this idea, as he titled it, "We're Not as Bad as We Think We Are." Compared to generations of the past, he says, we are exposed to that much more shmutz. In fact, during a person's 15 minute drive to work or school, or perhaps even during a mere walk down the street, we are exposed to more than what our ancestors were exposed to in their entire life in the shtetl. Rabbi Leff suggests that because of our situation Hashem takes what He can get, so to speak, and does not judge our mitzvos as inferior. Whatever it is that we're up against gets weighed in the equation. It isn't so much what we are or aren't doing right, but what sort of relationship do you have with Hashem?

So, here's the question: which approach works "better"? Which is more real? Is it simply a matter of preference? How can scaring people by saying that they're doomed before they start be a catalyst for change? But then, how can telling people that they're just fine how they are motivate them either?

Does the difference here lie in teshuva m'yirah vs. teshuva m'ahava? We're so scared of gehenom that we change our ways, rather than realizing that Hashem loves every mitzvah we do and then mirror that love in our actions. This generation, I think, is more understanding of love. Any harsh punishment is termed "abuse" and has the very real potential to send someone off the derech. The Torah believes in punishment; what do we do with a ben soreh u'moreh? A mechalel Shabbos gets skeilah. Yet, we are a product of our society, and we find it hard to tolerate anything but positive reinforcement. Perhaps it is for this reason that we like the ahava model better. But, do we understand it for real? Are we really on that level? Ahavas Hashem is really a step above fearing G-d.

R' Itzik Isaac Sher, the author of Leket Sichos Mussar, tells us that the ikar avodas Elul is to realize "Ani L'Dodi, V'Dodi Li," "I am to My beloved as My beloved is to Me." We're supposed to spend Elul realizing that Hashem loves us no matter what. Hashem knows where we are spiritually. He sets up test after test for us, because He believes in us; He thinks very highly of us. It's easy for us to get stuck listening to the voice of the Yetzer Hara telling us all sorts of things: "You're so far gone." "It's the same thing year after year, so why bother this year?" "I just don't want to change; what's the point when it won't stick?" "I'm comfortable where I am." "This is who I am. Those things are for yeshivish people." "I'm not working on all that right now. It's not important or a priority."

Ahavas Hashem is not about letting us off the hook! It's about your relationship with G-d. Relationships are a lot of work! Shlomo Hamelech said, "Cholas ahava ani," Rabbi Zecharia Wallerstein translates, "I am sick in love with Hashem!" How many of us can really say that? Does it hurt us that Hashem is missing from our lives? Do we feel sick with longing to be close to Hashem, have a committed relationship with Him and no other? If this was our level of ahavas Hashem how could we not do as He asks? Won't we do anything for someone we love?

Actually, this is one of the main themes of Rosh Hashana. Rabbi Wallerstein questions why we blow shofar on Rosh Hashana if the point is to commemorate akeidas Yitzchok. Why are we reminding Hashem of the ayeil that Avraham brought as a korban rather than sacrificing Yitzchok? Shouldn't it be anything but that; the ram is the recognition that Avraham didn't actually sacrifice Yitzchok!

Briefly, the answer is that we can say that akeidas Yitzchok was done out of fear of G-d. The Satan tried to stop Avraham from bringing Yitzchok, but at the point when it became apparent that Avraham was willing and ready to sacrifice his son, the pasuk says, "Atah yadati ki yarei elokim atah." But Avraham was not going to stop at that! He could have very well taken his son and gone home. Hashem told him what to do, he did it, Hashem then told him to stop. He was yotzei! But no! "Hashem! You told me to bring a korban; I'm not going to go home until I've brought you a korban! " This was Avraham's undying love of Hashem. The Satan could not bear to see this, so while the ayeil was running toward Avraham, the Satan wrapped it in thorns and vines, making it a teircha for Avraham to reach. Yiras Elokim the Satan can handle, but ahavas Hashem is that much greater.

We do teshuva out of fear, our aveiros get erased, but when we do teshuva out of ahava, they become mitzvos! Not only can they not testify against us in shamyim, they become advocates for us! And this is the power of akeidas Yitzchok. So, yes, it makes sense that we blow shofar, the horn of a ram. The ayeil commemorates the ahavas Hashem that Avraham portrayed. It is even stronger than the actual willingness to sacrifice Yitchok, because this sacrifice was out of ahava.

It is for this reason that blowing shofar causes Hashem to k'vyachol to get up from his keisay din and switch to his keisay rachamim. If we love Hashem, He will give us everything we need. If we really need something, we'll get it, because G-d gives each and everyone one of us everything we need to flourish in this world. 

Perhaps this Rosh Hashana davening's focus can be to foster your relationship with HK"BH by recognizing Who is Melech (king) and how privileged you are to have a special relationship with Him.

Ksiva V'chasima Tova and Shana Tova U'Mesuka!

A New Year and Where Am I?

I think I'm in denial. I have no idea how it can be Rosh Hashana again. What happened this year?? What happened to everything I davened for last Rosh Hashana? And maybe I'm being dramatic. B"H I have health, a good job, family, and so much more. But, thinking back on this year, it's been one of the hardest thus far. Not only has it had an intense hamster-wheel-Groundhog-Day feel, there have been steep ups and downs.

I was reflecting on how much my life has changed since last Rosh Hashana and the one before that and the year before that, etc. I went back and read some things I'd written. Honestly, if this is how I felt four years ago, this year it's just compounded. Last year's reflections on the Yom HaDin had a similar flavor.

(So many back-links, I know, but here's more on the Yaamim Noraim if you so desire.)

What set this year apart from all the previous ones as they blur together? Perhaps it's in all the people I met, all the lives I've touched, all the people who changed me. Maybe it's in how I've grown, what I've learned, what I let go, what I've recognized, what I've forgotten. And when I thought things were hard during previous struggles, I guess it's a good thing I didn't know that things could get harder.

I was recently going through old stuff and I found old cards that people had written me. Some were birthday or thank you cards from old friends I haven't talked to in years, some from grandparents that are no longer alive. Others were from random people whose cards I kept because they were particularly heartfelt. A trip down memory lane. It should have been pleasant, but it hurt. I think it was painful because I feel so stuck in my current stage of life.

I found a bunch of wedding invitations from close friends' weddings that I kept for who knows what reasons. I found a list of people I wrote that I wanted to invite to my wedding. I guess that was a young idealistic version of me who was doing some planning. Again, painful.

Life is dynamic, it doesn't stop for the hurt or weary. A whole year went by. I'm not the same person. Far from it. Can I say that I'm a better version of me? What did I gain this year? What did I lose? What do I want to daven for this Rosh Hashana? I don't want to feel like I'm stuck in this mindless loop just asking G-d to give me clarity, happiness, and for it to finally be the year in which I can celebrate my marriage to the person of my dreams. There's so much more to ask for, so much more to life. Perhaps this is tunnel vision, but I really feel like it colors all. No, I don't think marriage fixes everything, because I know it doesn't, but it does speak to this big gaping wound.

Perhaps I need to stop thinking about the nitty gritty and focus on what's important, the relationship. It's really all boils down to my relationship with Hashem. We don't ask for personal bakashos on Rosh Hashana, we focus on the avoda of being Mamlich Him Melech. If Hashem is my King, if He is truly my Father and my King then I have nothing to worry about (as long as I opt in*).

*A few years ago Mrs. Chanie Juravel, in a shuir about the Yaamim Noraim, told over how the Slonimer Rebbe speaks out how the being judged for maves or chaim on Rosh Hashanah is not something to be afraid of. We make the choice! Do you want life, or do you prefer out? After all, a rasha even in his lifetime is considered a meis.

Riding Out the Storm

You stood beside me waiting patiently in line for the Ride of Life.
I listened and empathized with you as you shared with me how nervous you were to get on the ride again.
You squeezed my hand as we boarded the car.
And I, yours.
You reminded me to fasten my seatbelt and lower the safety bar.
I reached over to help you with yours.

We shared a grin as the ride ascended slowly.
We screamed together as the car swiveled and dropped.
We coasted for a bit.
Your car got separated from mine.
I called to you, wanting to make sure you were okay.
You hollered back.
All was okay.

You attached your car to mine again.
My car climbed some pretty steep inclines.
It took some pretty extreme drops.
You asked me to let you off of my roller coaster.

I did.

I get that you can't stomach my ride.
Too many ups and downs.
Too many highs and lows.
Too many false starts and stops.

It's hard for me too.

I know you've been on the ride longer.
I know your own loops and twirls are hard enough.

I don't need you in my car.
I don't need you to hold my hand.
But I do want you to be there.
I do want to share my life with you.

Coasting without connecting, without sharing the ride, it's superficial.
We both know that.
We both feel that.
Maybe that's why it's been hard to navigate.
Maybe that's why I feel like I'm in this alone.

I'm riding out this storm...
Yes, you might get struck by lightning if you hold an umbrella.
But I would do it for you.

How Shidduchim Has Changed Within the Last Five Years

While it used to be about waiting by your phone for it to ring, hoping it would be someone with a suggestion for you, the ways shidduchim are brainstormed/redt nowadays has mushroomed quite a bit.

There are frum dating sites, databases with singles' profiles, singles' events, speed-dating, WhatsApp chats to share profiles and ideas, shidduch groups that meet in person to swap names and ideas, etc. etc. It's no longer about friends and family having ideas or even about meeting shadchanim.

Nowadays you can come across a resume of a guy you're interested in and ask someone to suggest it. I've been set up by single friends –– whether it was a guy they dated or someone they knew of through some other way. These methods give singles more control over getting a date. An improvement, right?

I'm not so sure about that.

Singles events and speed-dating have their own pitfalls (read about that here). And, my experience with someone random getting ahold of my profile has been entirely negative. Often the suggestions have just been off, and I can politely decline. It is annoying to have to look at each suggestion with the perspective of trying to figure out why the name came across my inbox and if there's anything there that makes sense. I do it though, especially if it comes with a "yes." I feel like this is my hishtadlus. (I'll still "say no," but I always have a good reason.)

However, this week someone added me to a database without my permission. With my picture. With my cell number and email address. My phone was blowing up all week with suggestions. Really irrelevant ones. I felt very invaded.

I had people bullying me when I declined their suggestions.

"What do you mean you won't go out with a guy 12 years older than you? You would be lucky if he agreed to date you. You're not good enough for him anyway."

"So if his profile doesn't say anything about him and you don't know if he's for you because of it, call his references and find out."

"You need to give me a reason why he's not for you. I need to know who to suggest. Do you want to get married?"

"You need to change your blurb to say x, y, z. Otherwise he's not for you." (The woman asked if I would go out with someone learning and in school and I told her I would consider it. She said I need to change the part about me wanting someone working or in school who is kovea eitim to just say I want "someone learning and in school.")

Like, OMG. Leave. Me. Alone.

I don't like this someone random setting me up thing. I have enough suggestions from people I've met, and those aren't always on the mark.

So, while we've created these situations to expand exposure, they're not always helpful. I think I'll go back to following up with the shadchanim I have met, or the friends and family that do know me. Some of them still make comments about the guy I'm looking for not existing or that people who aren't married are just too picky, but at the end of the day at least they're not like these people who I assume mean well but don't know basic human decency.

Since I've been belittled and humiliated multiple times in the last week, I'm going to give you a bracha that you should all have hatzlacha and bracha in your lives and yeshuos b'karov.  (At least something positive can come from this, right?)

Loves Me...Not: Another Post About Rejection Etc.

I picked up this book the other day and started reading it out of curiosity. The book, Loves Me...Not: How to Survive (and Thrive) in the Face of Unrequited Love by Samara O'Shea, has so many, so many! good insights. I was skeptical that it would be helpful in any way, as most pop psychology/self help books usually write about things we all have learned instinctively by just being passive students of life. Yet, I was pleasantly surprised. Even without any formal education –– I think she's a writer by profession, and she'd only recently began pursuing a Masters degree in social work at the time of the book's publication –– she shares a plethora of wisdom (obviously not all her own) about love and loss and all those emotions in between.

As I read, I want to share some of the things that stand out to me with all of you. If you think any of it is interesting or speaks to you, I would suggest you track down a copy of the book and read it yourself. It's an easy and entertaining read.

One of the first things O'Shea does is reference Don Miguel Ruiz's Four Agreements. I'll outline them here briefly, but if you're not familiar with them, I'd say it's worth it for you to read up on them. They're powerful stuff...

1. Be Impeccable with your Word 

Speak with integrity. Say only what you mean. Avoid using the Word to speak against yourself or to gossip about others. Use the power of your Word in the direction of truth and love. 

2. Don’t Take Anything Personally 

Nothing others do is because of you. What others say and do is a projection of their own reality, their own dream. When you are immune to the opinions and actions of others, you won’t be the victim of needless suffering. 

3. Don’t Make Assumptions 

Find the courage to ask questions and to express what you really want. Communicate with others as clearly as you can to avoid misunderstandings, sadness and drama. With just this one agreement, you can completely transform your life. 

4. Always Do Your Best 

Your best is going to change from moment to moment; it will be different when you are healthy as opposed to sick. Under any circumstance, simply do your best, and you will avoid self-judgment, self-abuse, and regret.

O'Shea zeroes in on number two, but I want to talk about numbers two and three. She quotes The Four Agreements to elaborate on the not taking things personally, which basically explains that people live within their own world, their own perception. The things that anybody does or says comes from the "agreements" s/he has within his or her own mind. Even if something seems very personal, even if it insults you directly, it has very little to do with you. Oftentimes it's about how something was triggered for them or a projection of their feelings and beliefs.

In a similar vein, don't make assumptions about why someone is doing or has done something. Even when you aren't in a position to ask, you must accept that you really don't know what is going on and/or why someone is doing something. We can make ourselves sick with worry, anxiety, jealousy, hatred, sadness, etc. when we assume things. We, more often times than not, won't really know why someone doesn't "want" you or why s/he isn't texting you back.

On the topic of rejection, remember that life is full of it –– personally, professionally, you name it. O'Shea offers up some guidelines to help out here.

1. Allow yourself the time to feel bad about things that didn't work out––don't rush through this. It's okay to feel let down.
2. If you made a mistake, don't criticize yourself. Call it just that––a mistake. (We all make mistakes sometimes.)
3. Recognize that the failure of things to work out isn't a reflection of your self-worth or abilities.
4. Find a lesson or three that can be taken away from the situation.
5. Put your black turtleneck on and get back out there.

You know how they all say that you need to be comfortable being alone first, and being single gives you that opportunity? That's great and all, but the want to be in a relationship, to have someone in your corner and all that good stuff, doesn't go away. O'Shea talks to this point too. Being comfortable being single doesn't mean that you don't want love/a relationship. It just means recognizing that "you're the only person you're going to wake up with every single day of your life," says O'Shea. "...You can make more authentic relationship decisions rather than fear-based ones...[working on yourself while you're alone] will enable you to love more genuinely..." It might not feel great, and you don't have to buy into the 'You have be complete on your own; It's an opportunity for you!' stuff that people in a relationship tell you. You do want to recognize though that you can use this time to your advantage. (It doesn't make you more or less single!)

O'Shea also talks about how in a relationship the only feelings you can account for are your own. What may be so super intense to you (or even just seems like a good shot), may be just causal or "pareve" to the other. She points out, as an aside, that when you are in a relationship and the other person doesn't necessarily reciprocate your emotion, it's not like it's totally for naught. She claims it's a "chance to practice taking hold of your half –– allowing yourself to feel it fully and let it be something special all by itself." She goes on to say that it's a chance to recognize that you have this capacity to love/care about someone like this and to celebrate it. You may not be able to share this passion with the other person, but you can keep it for yourself and know that it's there for some future situation.

A small note on envy, just because that's the last thing I notated so far in my reading... I know that I've felt jealous or sad/angry/jealous when an ex moved on (read: got engaged/married) or someone else who used to be in my same boat managed to get to the other side. Largely the envy comes from these someone elses having something that I want, right? O'Shea acknowledges that a lot of times this feeling is not that you want to be the other person or have what they have (after all, that person may be married but s/he has zero attraction or perhaps connection to his/her partner...), but it's about the fact that s/he has something to call his/her own. Is there something that you can do, that you have control over to call your own –– a hobby, class, volunteership, whatever? Pursue that, it will help a little.

Remember to love yourself and that everything comes down to you. No one else is to blame for what you are feeling. For real! It's much easier to blame everyone else, and it's aggravating to hear that it's about how you adjust your mindset, because it really does seem so much of the time that the things that happen around us affect our happiness. However, when you choose to take this control, you will have so much more happiness and be less subject to other people's opinions and their mood swings.

Temporary Friendships

The struggle, perhaps more on the female side of of our segregated communities, of staying friends with those people one was close with prior to getting married...

There's a certain connectedness people feel bonding over a shared circumstance and hardship. These are the friends that one develops when all her other peers have waltzed off into the sunset and left her behind in that stuck stage of life attempting to relate to those that have already caught their bus. It's difficult to relate when those cohorts, who once sat beside you and joined you in your worst worry about passing the Chumash final the following day, now they're fretting over tuition and a mortgage, while you cannot identify with those headches at all.

Does this mean that these relationships are less real or more temporary?

Perhaps one would never have chosen these "stand-ins" at some other stage in life, be it because of age, social, hashkafa, whatever, differences, but does this make the relationship any less real? Does this automatically mean that these friendships disappear when one finally has a ring on her finger?

There is a chance at that, for sure. We need people who can understand what we are going through to get through life. It's a shame if those relationships fall apart when one is no longer in the shared difficult situation, because perhaps it makes one believe that it's a less genuine relationship. Does that really have to be the case though?

Perhaps when two people really have very little in common and the only thing they connect over is the fact they are single, for example, it stands to reason that once one of them gets married their friendship will dissolve. However, motivating circumstances may be the thing that brought said people together, but once they get to know each other, they can become fast friends - a relationship that doesn't disintegrate when identifying factors change.

I have had a number of these friendships, the type where once someone no longer finds himself/herself in a challenging situation do they value the relationship the same. It hurts the most though when they cannot remember what it feels like. I guess forgetting that fast is a bracha, really.

Someone once shared with me a poetic essay comparing people to bridges and how someone can help get you somewhere, yet disappear behind you once you've "crossed" it. Her point was really how to leave an ex in the past but still learn from him/her. This concept, though, works here too. I'm not suggesting that we ditch our friends when we no longer are in the same stage, but there is something to be said about finding those connections that help you get through life at that particular moment based on what you are going through.

Switching Over to the Other Side

Once you've been somewhere dark, you make a promise to yourself to not be like those that made your life miserable when you were down, once you get to the other side. Sometimes you stick to it, and sometimes you forget. It's sort of like making note of all the mistakes your parents made and vowing to never treat your children like that. It's also about watching your friends who suffered with you for a long time until they got married seem to forget what it was like to be single and start to treat you like the rest of your married friends do.

How quickly people forget.

It isn't per se a bad thing either. It's bracha, really, to forget pain. It's the only way that someone can move on...and so quickly fall into that role that unknowingly causes their single friends pain. They forgot what it was like when someone said "x" or treated them like "y."

I sometimes wonder what type of friend I'll be when I finally get engaged/married. I'd like to think that I'll be sensitive and not hurt anyone, but then I understand why it's hard. Will I be that floaty excited kallah? I really hope so. Will I be so focused on my marriage the first couple of months we're married...at the detriment of speaking to friends daily? I hope so. Not that I want to hurt my friends, but priorities. It's a lot of work, making a marriage work, figuring out a new relationship. At this point it becomes about quality vs. quantity time with friends.

So, yes, even within this scenario, I can still be sensitive to single friends. Maybe it's hard to navigate because not everyone wants the same thing. Some may want to know details and be involved in the whole engagement, while others don't want to hear any details. There's no harm in asking, is there, trying to do what feels best for your single friends? I guess I want to try really hard to be one of those engaged/married friends that doesn't forget this and doesn't say and do hurtful things.

Phase or Lifestyle?

Pop psychology calls them safety behaviors, those practices we develop to cope with whatever challenge at hand to reduce anxiety and fear. Escapism turned out to be great for me at this point in my shidduch career. The problem with safety behaviors is how they stick around even after we don't need them anymore. It is true for the adult who was taken advantage of or bullied as a child and now doesn't trust that anyone has his/her good in mind, but it's also true for a general lifestyle that you get used to.

My new attitude, removing myself mentally (as much as possible) from tedious shidduch life has proven effective in dealing with my negative feelings surrounding it. (I'm actually not sure it's sustainable, but it's working short-term for sure.) I think disengagement at this stage is natural, because it's normal and healthy to gravitate towards things that make us feel productive. Focusing on work, hobbies, and vacations, makes this stage in my life so much more tolerable.

As I was cruising down the highway in my wine red convertible rental, enjoying the wind whipping through my hair, relishing the sun on my face and the warm weather in the dead of winter, I started wondering if taking frequent vacations and splurging on indulgent things is setting myself up for failure. Am I creating a lifestyle that isn't maintainable?

I obviously want to milk being single at this age (and working at a flexible job) for all it's worth. I won't always be able to jet to tropical destinations whenever I feel like it. I won't always be able to drop a few hundred bucks to do/buy what I feel like. Yet, there has to be some benefit of not being married. Do what I can now, cross them off my bucket list, right?

Will doing these things make me want/expect these things in the future? It isn't a lifestyle that I need or necessarily want for my family. Am I getting further and further away from what is important?

Freezing Friends Out

I'm pretty sure this is an exclusively female ailment. For some reason, when a girl is dating seriously or gets engaged/gets married, she often drops her (single) friends. Doesn't she know she needs friends (outside of her husband) even after she's married?! Your spouse cannot be your everything, and even if he's really good at putting up with female drivel, you would do a lot better if you had a support system and social life that isn't just one person. Sure, your husband needs to be your priority, and you need to work on your relationship with him (sometimes to the detriment of your other relationships), but balance is key!

All too often girls freeze out their friends while they're dating seriously. Sometimes it's because they're unsure and insecure the whole time and isolate themselves without meaning to as a means to cope with the situation. Sometimes, they just get so wrapped up in it that they somehow forget about their friends who have supported them through so much else. Sometimes it's because someone told them that bracha comes to things that are hidden, so they don't want to tell people. Sometimes they just want to feel special and love the surprise when the friend whom they've shared every secret with up until now is blindsided. 

It's been awhile since I've been on the receiving end of this. I remember when my first friend to do this to me did this. We were super close, talked multiple times a day, and probably saw each other six out of seven days of the week, if not every day. Because we were in this much contact, of course I knew something was up, but she even denied that she was dating, making up multiple excuses why she wasn't around. She didn't date her husband that long, so she thought she was keeping up the facade well. I remember exactly where I was when I took her call when she told me that she was engaged, and this was five or so years ago. It was around 5:00 pm, and literally the conversation went like this, "Hi! Guess what? I'm engaged!! The l'chaim's at 7:00 at my house; you better be there! I gotta go call more people, bye." I was left asking, "Are you serious? To who?" to the dead phone. For real.

Things were a little ugly after that, so I'll skip ahead to the part a few weeks later where we sat down and talked about it...the first time we talked after that phone call. She explained how insecure she was, how she thought that telling anyone would mess things up for her, how she knows she kept a few secrets from her chosson and she was nervous some well meaning friend would tell him/his family and he wouldn't go through with the engagement, etc. etc. The funny thing is that he told so many people before their engagement was official, so while she thought she kept the best secret, he had already told half of the city.

On another occasion, a different close friend whom I talked to daily fell off the map for a month. She called me to share her news when she was dating her husband seriously. It was her first guy, and like so many other girls, she didn't really know how to navigate the parsha and how her friends fit in. Lucky for her, they dated for a bit after that, so I didn't feel completely left out of her life.

While it isn't pleasant for anyone, I think this hurts the most when the friend "being frozen out" is older and/or has been in shidduchim longer, has had more shidduch challenges, and the like. If you trust your friend when it comes to everything else, what happened here? At the end of the day, she wants to feel part of your life. You don't have to seek her advice or support while you're dating, or if you don't feel comfortable telling her about what's going on, even just a little heads-up makes all the difference. It's the difference between "I'm engaged," ie. my life just changed irrevocably and you're not part of it, and "I'm getting engaged tomorrow/tonight" –– my life is about to change in a crazy big way and I wanted to let you know so you can be part of it. 

Friends are important, and it's really hard to recover those relationships if you put them on ice.

What I Learned in 2016

When the numbers turn on the calendar, it makes me a little nostalgic –– not that much, but a little –– enough to make me reflect on the year. What happened in 2016?  I learned a lot, even if if I spent a better part of the end of 2015 and the beginning of 2016 tied up dating one disappointment (and I'll admit, that's the nicer version of how I might have described him). 

A big thing that I gained this year from all my dating experiences is the recognition that nothing is permanent. Not good things, not bad things, not pain, and not glory. Things happen and life moves on. There are ups and there are downs, and we get through them all somehow. It's humbling and sobering to recognize this. It teaches you to hold onto the good times and hang in there during the challenging ones. What good you may have today might be gone tomorrow. In the same way, the hard times will fade too.

I also learned that despite always saying that I want to date my husband for a long time before getting engaged, I don't really want to date anyone for an extended period of time. Sure, I want to know him before we get engaged, but if things aren't complicated, and I really hope they won't be, then I don't need to date for that long. If things work, they can just work. If they don't, they won't. I've had enough of dancing around an early relationship and pretending. I'm in this for one purpose: it's marriage or bust. Granted, you need a few dates to see if you "click," but past that I want to get to know someone and see if it works marriage/values-wise. I don't have the patience to make small talk and discuss nothing for six, seven dates.

This year I've grasped too that a solid "working guy" can be so much better quality than a "learning guy." I have the utmost respect for the guy that goes to school/goes out to work and keeps his learning seder every day and his hashkafos intact. I used to say that I wanted a learning guy, and dating someone who was working was a b'deieved. Now, l'hefech. I want the guy who is the real deal, the fellow that goes to minyan before work every day and keeps his learning seder after work. I think that's so much more praiseworthy.

I saw too how important it is to trust your gut. In the scenario mentioned above, in which the guy I dated for awhile took me for a ride, I believe he ignored his instinct, which told him that it wasn't a shidduch, the whole time he was dating me. He ignored it for who knows what reason––he liked me, he thought I was pretty, he was having fun, whatever, and when push came to shove, he just couldn't seal the deal. He should have listened to his intuition from the beginning. In another situation, I went out with a guy, who, in so many ways we were similar, and I'm pretty certain the "like" was mutual, but based on something he perceived, his gut told him it wouldn't work marriage-wise, and he ended it. Good for him for not dragging it out. We have intuition for a reason, listen to it!

I learned so much about myself this year too. As much as a lot of you dislike Myers-Briggs, and/or don't think you fit into a type so it's not helpful, I like it, because I'm a pretty distinct type. Becoming more familiar with personality typing has helped me to understand why I do certain things and how I see the world. It's assisted me to understand how other people perceive the world around them and why I clash with some people so hard. It's aided me to realize why I love so hard and why I don't do anything halfway, why I have a great need to connect to others, to give and to nurture. 

Reflecting on 2016 makes me realize that as the years stack up and I gain more life experience, I have a lot to show for it. I'm developing myself as a person. Each year, month, day, I learn a little bit more about me and life. Each experience brings a new perspective. So much to gain...

Eis Ratzon Vs. Segulos

Hoshana Rabba: "a great amount of saving."

It's the last day before the din of Rosh Hashana/Yom Kippur is sealed. The gates of Heaven are slowly closing, and it's an auspicious time for tefillah. It's one of the occasions during which our prayers are more readily accepted.

Of course, davening every day is just as important. But, this is a time that our tefillos are boosted, and we would be foolish to not take advantage of this.

Utilizing an Eis Ratzon is different than engaging in segulos. A segulah is something that is said to bring about positive things; how it works though is beyond our logical understanding. Not all segulos can be lumped together, of course, and some decidedly have more merit than others.

Reciting Shir HaShirim/Perek Shira/Karbanos HaNissim for forty days, sponsoring Torah study, saying Shir HaMaalos in Elokai Netzor, praying at the kever of the Zviller Rebbe Monday/Thursday/Monday, davening at Amukah, davening for someone else's yeshuah, making/taking challah, lighting Shabbos licht, saying the whole Sefer Tehillim, getting a bracha from a rebbe, partaking from sheva brachos wine, giving money for hachnassas kallah, etc. maybe are all (mostly?) worthy pursuits, but do they directly affect whether you will find your zivug soon?

Perhaps they're hishtadlus, and some are legitimate mitzvos and worthy of their own accord, but like all hishtadlus, you "put in" one place and the yeshuah comes from another. At the end of the day, there isn't really any one thing we can do that will ensure we will receive a yeshuah. However, I do know that life is about our relationship with G-d, and tefillah is one great medium to work on that. Make fun of segulos all you want, but a time when our davening gets where it's going a little bit easier is an occasion we should not pass up.

Is Your Master In Your Pocket?

As it's erev Yom Kippur, I'm going to share a thought that Rabbi Yissocher Frand, in his annual Teshuva Drasha this year, imparted. (Actually, the inspiring part is at the end. Skip to the bottom if you don't have time for some of my own reflections and ramblings.)

He spoke about smartphones. (Actually a few rabbanim talked about phones this year. It's kind of frightening that this is the issue, addressed during a time of year reserved for heavy duty mussar.)

I can almost see you rolling your eyes right now at the smartphones speech. Seriously.

But, this is why Rabbi Frand rocks. He can get away with talking about whatever he wants, and people listen. He wasn't suggesting that we get rid of our phones or password protect our applications. He simply pointed out that humankind has greatly deteriorated in the past decade or so due (at least in part) to smartphones.

Rabbi Frand cited a NY Times Op-Ed piece written by John Spencer, a Major in the US Army, regarding his tours in Iraq. In 2003 the platoon needed to rely on each other for everything, as the connection they had to the outside world was limited to the occasional airmail letter, package, or infrequent call from home. Cell phones were nonexistent. In 2008, his second tour, they had 24-hour internet access, and when they weren't on patrol they were busy connecting online to everyone but their fellow brothers in combat.

Spencer writes,

The term “band of brothers” has become almost a cliché to describe how the close personal bonds formed between soldiers translate into combat effectiveness. Yet my combat experience in Iraq suggests that the kind of unit cohesion we saw in past wars may be coming undone because of a new type of technological cohesion: social media, and too much connectivity.

Studies show that people check their phones every 6.5 minutes, on average. People become increasingly uncomfortable when their phone is not in their close vicinity. Rabbi Frand asserted that cellphones are damaging the very fabric of society. We're completely distracted, as this thing in our pocket will beep, buzz, or vibrate at any time, and we feel compelled to pay attention to it, sometimes to the detriment of others in our immediate presence. Parents/spouses are only half there. When speaking to someone face to face, it's difficult for us to give them all our attention.

MIT professor and media scholar Sherry Turkle writes in her book, Reclaiming Conversation, that because we're primarily communicating electronically, and we don't talk face to face, we're diminishing our ability for empathy and relationships. Rabbi Frand posited that this means that we're losing what it means to be a Yid -- rachmanim/byshanim/gomlei chasadim.

He brought the example of someone who told him that his teenage daughters don't know what to do with themselves at the Shabbos table, and it is impossible for them to have a conversation that doesn't take place via texting. Is this what we've come to? He contended that this means that we're producing a generation that cannot communicate effectively and cannot then have effective relationships.

My question then, is this (just) the life of Post-Millennials (also known as the iGeneration), or are we, Millennials, doomed as well? Can we communicate without our phones? Can we build healthy relationships? Are we so distracted by the master in our pocket?

"Distraction is the only thing that consoles us for our miseries, yet it itself is the greatest of our miseries." (Blaise Pascal)  

Interestingly, Rabbi Frand shared, we learn the halachos of blowing shofar from Yovel. Why do we learn the halachos about something we do yearly from something we do only once every 50 years? This is because shofar represents freedom. Just as all slaves go free during Yovel, so, too, the shofar we blow at the end of Yom Kippur represents us unshackling our bonds that tether us to the Yetzer Hara. Yes, we can be bnei chorin, and we can control the master in our pocket (and all the other little guys sitting on our left shoulder). 

Gmar Chasima Tova!

Aseres Y'mei Teshuva = A Honeymoon Period: Does Dating Parallel Our Relationship with G-d During the Aseres Y'mei Teshuva?

Despite my earlier misgiving about this time of year and my capacity to connect with Yiddishkeit and G-d, I've come to realize these past few days of powering through, working extra hard to fight off obstacles, that I'm enjoying this closeness with Hashem. It's a lot of work, and I know I can't keep it up like this year-round, but for now it's working for me.

At this level, this might be a terrible analogy to dating and relationships. Taken at face value, this would mean that we put our best foot forward while dating someone, and then we let things slide after awhile when it gets too hard. In essence that would mean that the best period in your relationship is when you first start dating. Bear with me, this is only a portion of the comparison here.

Of course you must represent your best self when you begin dating someone. At the outset, when you're learning each other, there is no bigger picture to see, and each idiosyncrasy and pink flag gets judged on its own merit. There's a certain respect we show the other person by putting ourselves together and behaving (at least for the first couple of dates). It's similar to what you do for a job interview, or what we do during the Aseres Y'mei Teshuva.

It isn't fake. Borrowing mashalim that you've probably heard multiple times, you love the dirty smelly child after he comes home from a hot day playing in the mud the same as you love that child when he's fresh out of a bath. After the bath though, he's that much more cute and delicious. The kallah gets all made up and dresses to the nines for her wedding day even if a few years later she's wearing shmattas streaked in whatever the baby is eating, still struggling to lose the baby weight from her last pregnancy, no make up and no sheitel now her new face. We're showing what we can be when we put out our best effort.

Tangentially, it's important to be yourself while dating and not misrepresent yourself in the name of putting your best foot forward. It's still gotta be your own foot. For those that find dating intimidating and unnatural because you feel like you can't be yourself for this reason, I'm going to suggest that you loosen up a little. There's a difference between behaving and being stilted, but also, being genuine versus being socially inappropriate.

As a personal example, I was recently sharing an appetizer with a guy on a beginning date. He was using silverware. I said, "I feel like this is finger food." He responded, "It is," but continued using his fork and knife. I used my fingers. (I guess you can't really trust me to behave on dates; I'm just going to be myself.)

As for being genuine, that would refer to saying something like, "I had a really nice time tonight," or "To be honest with you, I was actually pretty nervous coming into this date." It puts it out there and you can feel better about it once s/he knows. Socially inappropriate would be to say to someone you've just met, "You know, I couldn't stop thinking about you since we spoke on the phone." There's something pathological and creepy about that. Keep it to yourself until you have an actual relationship with the person, and then if you must, you can share something like that with him/her.

Back to my point, while dating, and oftentimes a little while into a relationship, things are easy, cordial and passionate, and less work. As things get realer and deeper, it's not as easy, and a lot more work is required. This applies to the honeymoon phase of any situation really -- romantic, spiritual, medical, political, etc.

There are certain times in our lives that we experience quick (artificial) highs, which help us sense what can be ours, but the high is, in reality, just as elusive. It is fleeting and means nothing if it's not followed up by real work. A synthetic sense of exhilaration or euphoria only lasts as long as the agent does. If you want to make this feeling your own, you need to work for it.

This concept exists in many different forms within Torah Judaism. First and foremost, it reflects our relationship with Hashem. During the Aseres Y'mei Teshuva, Motzei Yom Kippur, or during other times of hisorerus, such as situations where we see blatant yad Hashem, we feel extremely close to G-d, but this feeling soon dissipates; we have a hard time maintaining this feeling of closeness. We want the happiness and intimacy of someone in a serious, loving, trusting, relationship, for this is the ultimate joy, but it's elusive. We have difficulty attaining this lasting authentic relationship with G-d. Thus, during the Yamim Noraim or at other times such as these that we feel heightened closeness to Hashem finds us asking ourselves what it's all worth; is it all merely a charade? Is the euphoria we feel during the beginning of a blossoming romantic relationship a sham?

Indeed, what holds us back from procuring this genuine relationship with Hashem? How do we create this authentic relationship with a potential marriage partner? We are able to experience superficial love without investment, but a real relationship requires work. As every relationship in this world is meant so we can understand some aspect of our relationship with G-d, let's speak first about what happens when two people fall head over heels for each other in the beginning of a relationship. Most of the time they believe that this infatuation will last forever. They think about the other person before they go to sleep at night, and s/he is the first thing they think about when they wake up in the morning. Everything in their life becomes about this other person. And, they reckon that this love will endure a lifetime. But it doesn't, and it's not meant to.

Rabbi Jeremy Kagan, in his book The Choice to Be: A Jewish Path to Self and Spirituality, explains that love in its raw form is selfish. It is about viewing the other as an extension of self. For there to be unification one needs to sacrifice part of his individuality. He is transformed from "single person" to "that in a relationship." You cannot chance upon real love, a genuine relationship. You can only find the potential for a real love; the relationship needs to be built. The infatuation, the inspiration, dissipates and the relationship then needs to be rebuilt.

This is not a negative thing; it is how it is meant to be. The original relationship serves the purpose of one becoming familiar with what is possible, and it works as a means to make it easier to reach that madreiga again. Rabbi Benzion Klatzko speaks about this concept. He calls it "Or Rishon" (first light) and "Or Sheini" (second light). He explains that or rishon is blinding, dazzling, very intense, but it doesn't last. Or sheini is not as intense. It's more soothing, more calm, more work to achieve, more incremental, but it has the potential to last a lifetime.

Kabbalas HaTorah was loud, monumentous. There were kolos u'vrakim, and Hashem Himself proclaimed the first dibrah. The people were so overcome, they fainted. But this didn't last! Forty days later Klal Yisroel was dancing around an egel. And then, we received the luchos sh'neiyos in a very quiet unassuming way. These we have until this very day. Another example, people get all inspired learning in Israel, be them baalei teshuva or run-of-the-mill sem girls and yeshiva guys. Very rarely does this fire stay, at least in its full glory. People come back to the States and it all but peters out. They might be doing the same things, davening, learning, doing chesed, but it just doesn't feel the same. Israel was or harishon, dazzling and intense, and later it's or hasheini, less flashy but more real, harder to attain but easier to hold onto.

Another better known example is how a fetus is taught kol hatorah kula while it is inside its mother's womb. Before the infant is born, the malach sent to teach the child taps the baby above the lip, and it forgets everything it was taught. The person then has to toil to relearn all that Torah during his lifetime.

Why doesn't or rishon last? What is the point of learning the whole Torah if it is to be forgotten only to be relearned? Rabbi Klatzko answers that or rishon is a gift, it carves out space within us for or sheini. Without or rishon we cannot attain or sheini. It is true for Torah, and it is true for relationships. When we experience what it is like to be "madly in love," feel extremely close to someone or something, it will keep us going when the going gets tough. We know what we're working for, because he once had it. Or rishon, unlike or sheini, cannot last because it wasn't worked for.

We can get close to Hashem and stay close to Him. We have this ability to follow it down, just as the honeymoon phase of a romantic relationship is not the end-all-and-be-all. We keep going, plugging away if we have to, because the relationship is important to us. Perhaps why we cannot feel the unadulterated happiness of true d'veikus to G-d is mostly because we do not invest enough, we get stuck somewhere, and we lose sight of where the road is and what our goal is. All relationships take work.

Forgiveness Part Three: Forgiving Ourselves

We often hold onto things and blame ourselves for them much longer than necessary. This manifests as us not trusting our own judgement, not trusting others, and thinking that life has irrevocably damaged us. I know that I often lament how my young naiveté was stripped away as I climbed this mountain of shidduchim. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, sure, but all this does take an effect on one. Scar tissue is tougher, but it's also uglier.

I'm not contesting the fact that you have to learn from every experience, because you definitely do. You don't want to make the same mistakes again and again; pink flags and all that, but where do you draw the line? Where can you set down past experiences and start trusting yourself (and then others) again? Is there such a thing as a blank slate?

I believe it's about replacing these bad experiences with good ones, or maybe just adding good experiences to bad ones. This way you can recognize that both possibilities exist. People may not be trustworthy, but they may be. Adding +1 to -1 lands you back at zero.

Psychology calls this "corrective emotional experiences." This type of experience involves a providing a new, more satisfying response to a person's relationship pattern. In therapy, it's about experience rather than explanation. When put in a similar situation, someone (it doesn't have to be a therapist, this works in the real world too) offers a safer response than what previously occurred. This then helps the person to process the beliefs held about said situation more effectively.

I'll give you an example to explain the psychobabble.

If you've been keeping up with my previous posts, you've read about how I dated someone for awhile, us basically planning a life together, almost reaching the finish line in this shidduch race, but not quite, and he walked away abruptly with no explanation. About two or so months later I found myself dating another guy, and after three or four dates I was sort of stuck. We got along great, but I didn't really want to get invested. I'm sure I was scared to let him in, because my past experience taught me what happens when I do that. (As a side note, this was not the first time a serious relationship didn't work out, so it was already becoming a negative pattern for me.)

Because I like to embrace vulnerability, I told him straight up how I was feeling. I gave him some backstory and explained that I couldn't move forward in our relationship (ie. get past superficials), because basically I had this fear of what was going to happen -- me opening myself up again to another close relationship and then him walking away.

I don't know who taught him how to deal with girls' feelings, but to whoever did, did a great job. (Thank you whoever you are!) He said to me (and he was sincere, he's not one of those shiny bogus charismatic types), "I honestly wish that I could take away the hurt, but I can't, even though I wish I could. What I can do is promise you that I'm not going to hurt you like that. . ." And he didn't. Things didn't work out between us, but he didn't hurt me like that.

His statement, and his actions backing up that statement, case in point, a corrective emotional experience. I actually trust people now to follow through on things and not just to book it when...who knows what happened, I still don't.

My point though, I may not have any more clarity with what happened in regards to Powerball Guy, but thanks to this other fellow, I can set down my irrational fear about getting close with someone again. Some bad experiences and some good ones. I just have to allow myself to let go of that baggage. I need to forgive myself for "letting" it happen.

This letting go is similar to that of forgiving others. Figuring out the reason why you're holding onto something, channeling, expressing, and releasing the frustration and anger will help you wipe the slate clean.

Practicing stress management to cope with, reduce, and not allow regular stress to build up helps with this too. Do you let things go, or are you just "stuffing it" only to access it, subconsciously, later on? Forgiving yourself starts with learning from your mistakes and working through why they happened instead of holding onto them and blaming yourself or other people for them.

You can use deep breathing to clear your mind and elicit an actual physiological relaxation response within your body. Challenge negative thoughts and replace them with more positive self-talk. (No one is thinking about you as much as you tell yourself they are.) Recognize that worrying is an exercise in futility; it doesn’t change the outcome, but it sure takes up a lot of head-space.

Forgiving yourself and letting things go is a choice. You can hold onto whatever you'd like forever, but at least just take the time to decipher why you're doing it. Trying to create a healthy relationship while you're still lugging around past relationship baggage (doesn't even have to be romantic/dating relationships) is like someone being toivel with a sheretz b'yado.