In yesterday morning’s meditation, the message that came through was unprecedented. It was a large image of me, lying flat on my back, neither going anywhere nor trying to. Usually, when I get an image, I try to discern the words into which the image can be translated. As near as I could figure, they were these:
Any and all attempts at transcendence
or even vision with regard to the future –
any future, long or short –
should not be indulged.
Don’t rise above it,
and don’t try to.
I don’t think I’ve ever got a message of that sort in my whole life. Like most people, I’ve been in the becalmed doldrums before, of course. But I’ve never gotten guidance to be there! Plus this further word of advice:
Try staying there.
It’s alogon. It defies the logos – the light-shedding power of reasonable speech. At earlier times in my life, there have usually been people, human or institutional relationships, or treatment protocols to whom (or to which) I could turn when the inner springs of motivation failed.
Looking at the human resources “in principle” available to me from three of the directions accessible where I live now: there’s (a) Israel, where the most interesting members of my mother’s family have been native since Ottoman times and were part of the founding generation; there’s (b) my Reform Temple, where I continue to attend zoom meetings of Torah Study and pay dues; there’s (c) my California neuropathy specialist, with whom I have a patient/healer relationship.
I put to one side my loving bond with Jerry. Not even true love, not even friendship, can, by itself, fill up the void in personal motivation. Such a void constitutes a crisis in a person’s life, and there’s no point buttering it up to make it taste better.
So, what’s happened to each of these relationships?
Re (a) Israel: a consequential misdeed affecting personal relationships, committed by a close family member, came to my attention and – since there was no one else to do it – I pointed out the woeful wrongness to the person responsible and what he must do to repair it. Whether or not my letter to that person had the hoped-for effect, one consequence would be clear from the outset. Were I to visit Israel and not stay with these relatives, questions would be raised. Why not? So I would not visit, the letter would break my ties with that part of my family and barr any harmonious future visits to family in Israel.
Re (b) my Temple: I was alone in pressing the then temple leadership to banish a certain predator who’d been approaching the women “inappropriately.” As happens all too often with whistle-blowers, I was the one initially blamed. Though the bad actor was eventually ousted, and the failed leadership replaced, at the time, no one stepped forward to repair the broken trust between me and the temple leadership. By now, most of the players have moved on, but my sad indignation hasn’t moved on.
Re (c) my neuropathy practitioner: at last visit, he initiated a new approach, but failed to set aside the requisite time to bring my balance feature into line with the new approach. As a result, I’ve never been at so high a risk of falling and have been virtually house-bound for the past two months. Meanwhile, I’ve naturally wondered whether he can repair my skewed balance, my impaired safety – and with these the trust required for the continued therapeutic relationship.
*. *. *
So what’s brought me to full stop now? Except for the last, neither of the first two events happened recently. Yet the call to stop-in-my-tracks came only yesterday. And it doesn’t seem right to try to pole-vault over the felt impasse that resulted, in order just to “forget it” and get on with new projects. Instead, I might have to take a further look at events #1 through #3.
What about Israel, which was #1 on my psychical list – where “psyche” means soul? What I sense, just now, is an intimation, or dimly moving invitation to connect with God’s people and country (I didn’t say divinity’s only people or country) on a deeper level. To leave the blockage where it lies, uncured, but dig down to a level more fundamental.
What level would that be? I think of what I saw the first time, looking down from my El Al flight, as it circled the Promised Land for a landing:
There it is again.
How nice!
They’ve put cities down this time!
Actually, without knowing how or why, I had just moved to another level. Now for the first time I saw that the turgid torments of my family belonged to the suffering, the blood and the waste, of the birth and rebirth pangs of The Promised Land. So, when I wrote my relative so fatefully, perhaps I helped cauterize some of such wounds and minimize their attendant soul damage.
Now what about #2, my temple? By now at last, the temple has wholesome leadership and can go ahead – wedded to our era, to modernity. What I contributed was to help prevent irreversible harm, and prevent scandal, thereby helping to cauterize the wounds of earlier misdirection. That was my assignment and I have carried it through. Had my efforts received proper credit (which typically such efforts do not receive) – that very credit might have interfered with the completion of the righteous assignment.
Finally, #3, about my neuropathy treatments: what I did today (before setting out to write this column) was to email my practitioner, bringing the whole of my impaired present condition to his attention – I think tactfully but accurately – and doing that prior to seeing him in California next week. It’s all I can now do. But that will give him time to think in advance about my case. Now I’ll see what, if anything, he can do about it. *
With that – the two sets of reflections and the email – it seemed that the subtle earthquake was over. In its place came the inner message that –
I can move on now.
*In an email received this morning, he’s chagrined and eager to repair the damage.












