A Terminal Disease and Spiritual Reflection

It shouldn’t be this way, but it is where I am. I am a religious person who truly believes in G-d and has strived to live a life keeping Mitzvot, setting a good example in family, community, and business. Yet, faced with a terminal diagnosis of horrific proportions and speed, I find myself spiritually unprepared.

I pray and learn, yet, if I’m honest, my true focus has been on work, community, and family, with work dominating far more than it should have. Sure, I’ve completed Daf Yomi and other basics, but it’s only at a basic level.

Now almost retired (officially 1 month today), it may be late to turn my attention to spirituality, but here I am at a fork in the road, needing to set my GPS direction. Here’s my debate.

I am a rational person. I believe in G-d 100% and feel His presence in my life—at key junctions like deciding to make Aliyah, marriage, and raising children. When I pray as a Chazzan for the community, the responsibility vastly improves my concentration and connection. Oddly, before critical business meetings, I feel Him as I selfishly ask for His help.

As Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik wrote, “Man’s task is to sanctify time, to elevate the mundane to the level of the eternal.” I’ve always believed this, but I’ve ticked away too much time on mundane matters, leaving my spiritual life wanting.

However, I’ve never found comfort or spiritual drive in certain aspects of Jewish thought. I’m skeptical of amulets, changing Hebrew names, praying at the graves of sages (despite the contradiction with my experience at Kever Rachel), or similar practices.

I don’t ponder the levels of the spiritual world, the words of Kabbalah, or what the Afterlife looks like. I trust in G-d, and whatever He has planned for me is fine. I guess I am like a child who assumes their parents know the way and doesn’t challenge it—it is what it is. I simply know it will be good, and that’s enough for me. I’m not arrogant enough to believe I can fully understand it, and frankly, detailed texts often confuse me.

I’m not seeking a way out of the path G-d has given me. I didn’t want the PSP diagnosis I have, but I believe I have a mission in this place. I’m not chasing a miracle cure to escape it; I want to fulfill what G-d expects of me.

Yet, my focus on non-spiritual matters has left my prayer and learning weak, unfit for the honor I owe my Creator, and I must deepen my connection quickly.

So, how do I move forward?

There is a spiritual world—of that, I’m certain. Logic dictates it. If G-d exists, there must be one. As G-d created time, He exists outside it, which I can’t fully grasp. What is a world without past, present, or future? As the Lubavitcher Rebbe taught, “Every moment is an opportunity to transform the mundane into the divine.” This speaks to me in those moments before business meetings, where my prayers, though selfish, turned routine stress into a chance to seek G-d.

Many share this perspective. Studies show 60-80% of people globally believe in G-d or a higher being (Pew Research Center, Ipsos). Even 55% of atheists acknowledge unexplained phenomena, like extraterrestrial life, per Physics World. Most of us, therefore, understand that a spiritual world, or at least a world beyond our own, exists. The question is how to connect more deeply to it.

I will push myself to connect more with the spiritual world—not for a ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ card, but because it’s my duty. I’m not aiming to score points but to live out His mission. As Rabbi Jonathan Sacks wrote, “To be a Jew is to know that the history of our people lives within us, and that we have a responsibility to shape the future by living true to our faith.” This calls me to live my faith more fully, carrying the weight of our tradition even in my limited days.

I’m probably too old and stubborn to transform entirely, so I’ll stick to what I know and love—learning more, praying better, visiting places like the Kotel that uplift me spiritually—but I need a major step up.

Why write this publicly? It’s not just for me. Many have shared similar struggles. For good reasons, we invest in careers—communities need funding, families have needs, we want to give, not take, and we have material interests. I fully believe we have to work and give to society—we have a country and community that needs leading, running, farming, defending—this is G-d’s work. Yet, I, and perhaps members of this community of like-minded people, could benefit from upping their spiritual game. It is not an either/or equation.

G-d has given me notice—a diagnosis at 50 I didn’t want, and my ability to walk with a walker is now about 200 meters and shrinking. My world was once vast (I did 76 flights to the US alone since Aliyah from London) and now it has contracted. I have time now and must focus on my connection with G-d.

Like many, I’ve wrestled with balancing life’s demands and spiritual growth. Sharing this feels right, as a way to reflect on our shared journey. I know I am not alone and perhaps a small part of my meaning is to pass this message to myself and others.