LeHa’amin – To Believe

A few weeks ago, I bought tickets to Koolulum with a friend. For those of you who don’t know what that is, Koolulam is a social-musical initiative aimed at strengthening the fabric of society. The project revolves around mass singing events in which large groups of non-professionals come together to form a collaborative musical creation. They divide the large group of participants, which is often hundreds of people, into two equal groups and in a very short time teaches both groups how to sing this one song in beautiful harmony.

As a music teacher, where music is a constant and integral part of my life, I’ve always wanted to go but never had the opportunity until recently. But this isn’t just a group of people singing together. When you stand in the middle of the large arena with hundreds of your countrymen, you look around and you see people from every walk of life surrounding you. You see kids as young as eight and adults as old as the hills. You see religious, non-religious and every nuance in between. They purposely seat you randomly and encourage conversation before the “show” begins. There’s an incredible palpable energy in the room and it feels electrifying. Like you’re on the cusp of doing something unforgettable.

What’s even more amazing is that this wasn’t a group of vetted musicians or professional singers. Everyone is welcome whether you can mimic Celine Dion on American Idol or whether a cat dies somewhere after listening to your attempt to belt it out. Everyone is welcome.

The song the organizers picked the night my friend and I went was Idan Raichel’s amazing “LeHa’amin.” The music we created that night was incredible. And even after it was over and the hall emptied out and the music was seemingly gone, it really wasn’t. We released it into the world and I believed it stayed inside each and every one of us.

The morning after the event, my friend called me and said, “I’m still smiling from last night and I want to be your Koolulum partner.” We already have tickets for the next event.

It’s been almost a month since that night and that song has taken up residence in my brain with no plans of evacuating anytime soon. And that’s a good thing, because the lyrics have been so helpful to me, personally, as pertaining to what’s going on currently in Israel – and “the main event” that has yet to unfold.

This song is, at it’s core, about belief. And because music is meant to mean something different to each and every person who connects to it, for me this is about absolute Emunah, faith in God/Hashem.

It touches on the idea that everything that has been will change tomorrow. We, in Israel, know about this a little more than is comfortable. We know about living in the moment and that our lives here are so precious yet extremely fragile. But the song encourages us to believe. Believe even though we don’t have answers, or even solutions. It tells us to believe without proof, to feel without touch, to speak and connect without language even when we have no more words. To embrace every moment and hold tightly onto it for even a second longer before we release it. To live in the moment and appreciate the beauty of the world around us. To learn to let go and to unburden ourselves from things that are out of our control.

I think one of my favorite lines in the song is about miracles and prayers. That they all cumulatively come together, at the moment when we most need it – IF, we can just believe.

Make no mistake – blind belief is not easy. It requires inner strength and determination and above all, a kind of letting go, which is not easy for a lot of us. Belief is a hundred percent a choice. Because there’s no scientific proof, it is a mindset. And the knowledge that יהיה טוב – it will be okay. Time will heal and Hashem is protecting us, even though we might not understand His methods.

I remember asking my grandfather, who was a Holocaust survivor, how he kept his faith stronger than ever post-Holocaust. He said to me something I’ll never forget. He said faith isn’t something you change your mind about when things take a bad turn. You either believe or you don’t – it’s as simple as that. I was awed (still am, even though he’s been gone for over a decade) at his attitude even though I don’t think that it’s that simple for all people…. But it did strengthen my own belief in Hashem.

So it’s not just this music that is stuck in my head, but it’s the words that are filling me up, giving me strength when the negative thoughts can tend to be overwhelming and threaten to smother any positivity I have. It reminds me of the kind of faith that my grandfather had – and while I am nowhere near a pious person like he was, it’s the kind of faith that he had that I strive for.

So, if you’re feeling that negativity start to bully all your good thoughts into abandoning you, put this song on. Play it on a loop, and immerse yourself in the words and the feelings. Let it resonate with you in any way that it can – find your own meaning within the lyrics, and I guarantee you’ll feel better, stronger and just a little calmer about what the future has in store for us. And, believe.

Because, יהיה טוב.