As My New Year Begins
With the high holidays firmly in our rear-view mirror, we leave the intense personal scrutiny labeled “cheshbon hanefesh,” a personal accounting of our actions.
We now return to ”normal” living. One overarching message our tradition gives us is that through repentance and atonement we can once again take control of our lives. Such irony!
Most of us live under the illusion that we are in control, when in reality we control so very little – if anything at all. This fantasy affords us the opportunity to make sense of an inchoate world. Yet life and its most unpredictable twists and turns always prevails – and never fails to school us in so many different ways.
To be clear, we need this illusion of control. This edifice, though a flimsy house of cards, allows us to interact and most importantly, contribute to the betterment of our world.
But it does pay to remember the phrase, “der mensch tracht un got lacht”. “Man plans, God laughs” has never been accurate.
Case in point: In hospice we were taught that patient reaction to a fatal diagnosis fell into two categories: expanding or contracting one’s soul. Knowing their fate, the patient can become inclusive in a community of love. Or, they contract their souls, freezing people out and embittering their lives and the lives of those closest to them.
But today as I find myself in this community of illness I can see quite clearly that this is too simplistic a model: it ignores nuance and context. When dealing with a serious illness there are realities that defy easy categorization.
Am I expanding my soul? – today I would like to think so. But I cannot speak for tomorrow. There are so many variables to take into consideration – and circumstances are fluid.
Each morning begins by taking an inventory of “what’s not working today.” I obsess with the minutiae of living minute to minute and don’t always have time to look at the big picture.
Phone calls: I know you want to speak with me: to voice your concerns and communicate your cares. Often, I lack the emotional base to converse. So, I may not call you back or respond to communications: to do so can make a rough day much worse.
Some may want closure of old dynamics or wounds. Sorry, you may have waited too long. I am slowly losing control of the logistics of life – so find myself limited: grasping to control an ever-diminishing capacity.
In truth, I have found resolution is not always a solution. If I am willing to go forward without it – so must you.
My world may seem similar to yours, but only in its optics. For instance, when leaving the house, the first three priorities are: Is there ample parking, how far will I have to walk to do my errand(s) and most importantly – where are the bathrooms?
My new mantra follows the teaching of Ralph Waldo Emerson, “A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of small minds.” What works one day does not mean it will carry over to tomorrow. As each day brings different circumstance my actions may seem inconsistent – because I now listen to the “beat of a different drummer,”
With some relief, I find I can now stop worrying about how you perceive me.
If I have one regret living through this process: I wish I had known all this as a caregiver to my parents – it would have made me more sensitive to their own decline and it would have made their passing easier. I do hope though that as God looks down on these personal experiences with humor – they are laughing as well.