"Willing To Be Disturbed"

The title of this post is the name of a chapter from what will surely shortly become one of my favorite books. I have had an article with this title for years, given to me by my friend Terri Jacobson, when we were both members of a Critical Friends Group. The book is called Turning to One Another by Margaret Wheatley ( San Francisco: Berrett-Koehler Publshers, 2002) She has a wonderful website now, www.turningtooneanother.com.

A Critical Friends Group, or CFG, is a professional learning community consisting of approximately 8-12 educators who come together voluntarily at least once a month for about 2 hours. Group members are committed to improving their practice through collaborative learning. These groups focus on collaboration and what it means to have a true conversation. There are several protocols that are used, all with the goal of creating a safe space for conversation.

There were a few key points in this chapter which resonated for me when I first read it 6 years ago, and these points still resonate for me today. Wheatley writes:

"We have to be ready to move into the very uncomfortable place of uncertainty. We can't be creative if we refuse to be confused. Change always starts with confusion: cherished interpretations must dissolve to make way for the new. Of course it's scary to give up what we know."

And then this beautiful phrase - this phrase takes my breath away:

"but the abyss is where newness lives." 

Ms. Wheatley goes on to say:

"great ideas and inventions miraculously appear in the space of not knowing. If we can move through the fear and enter the abyss, we are rewarded greatly. We rediscover we're creative."

Ms. Wheatley, are you talking to me?

Creativity starts with confusion! This brings to my mind the ultimate of all creative processes - Creation Itself - B'reisheet. There was tohu va'vohu (chaos) before there was anything. Ruach hashem merachefet al p'nei ha mayim. God's energy was hovering and vibrating over the water. That energy has to be there in order to create. I don't know much about physics (apologies to Sam Cooke) and surely my family and all who know me can attest to this - but it makes so much sense. Chaos, confusion, random movement - is the precursor to true creation.

It is a truism in all sectors of thought. Margaret Wheatley nails it when she writes "going into the abyss." A piece of art, a conversation, a book, a religion, a literal universe, all came into being as a result of confusion, chaos, or uncertainty.

So we need to embrace the confusion if we wish to fully immerse ourselves in the creative process. Willing to be disturbed is not the same thing as willing to be afraid. The only certainty is that there will be uncertainty. The main thing, to quote the great Rebbe Nachman of Breslov, is to not be afraid at all.

Korach, Community, and Life’s Lessons

     Community.  The mega word of our faith.  We all know what it can do for us, both the positive things and the negative things.  And in these times, community has a whole new meaning – we are part of a global community, a local community, a virtual community.  With Facebook, Twitter, texting, and other social networks, our communities are larger and more diverse than ever before. 

     Some deride Facebook, and what is doing to our cultural fabric.  But for me, Facebook is another way of community living.  It can be used for good and for the not so good.  Let’s look at this week’s Torah portion, when Korach and his followers were looking to plan a mutiny around the leadership of Moses and Aaron.

Imagine if you will…..

Korach’s Facebook page:  Status:  “Please join me in showing Moses that he and Aaron have gone too far.  Rise up!” 

Korach gets 250  “likes” on his status. 

Wall to Wall between Moses and Korah:  All the community is holy, all of them, and God is in their midst.  Why then do you raise yourself above the God’s community?

Moses posts on Korach’s wall:  Isn’t it enough that God has set you apart as Levites and given you access to him and to the Mishkan?  Now you want more?

Through his Facebook page, Korah was able to assemble 250 people to join him in a rebellion.  In Torah time, it looks like it took no time at all.  Between verses 2 and 19, the forces were rallied, the people were in place at the front of the ohel moed, the tent of Meeting, and they were ready to rumble. 

But in real time, how long do you think it would have taken to prepare for this? 

Technology has given us the tools to be able to accomplish in literally split seconds what before this decade would have taken us days or even weeks to do.

     This is a blessing and a curse.  One strike of a send key and you have done your work.  Lashon Hara has never been this easy. 

     But community it is nonetheless.  And our virtual community can often provide the same things a flesh and blood community can do, sometimes in tandem when necessary.

     This week our southern Jewish community experienced a terrible tragedy.  It does not matter  that we all were not physically present during this tragedy.  The effect has been like ripples in the water - concentric circles beginning with all the teenagers who were on the river that day, emanating outward to points unknown. A horrible accident occurs in Tennessee, and within moments, people in several states, and I can say, countries, are experiencing grief, shock,  profound sadness, and countless other emotions that are too numerous to name here. 

     This event on the Ocoee river during a rafting trip by Camp Ramah Darom’s Gesher age division, changed many people’s lives forever.  A horrific accident where a 16 year old boy has drowned, has transformed many of us, particularly the Ramah Darom community, and our own children, and has raised the concept of community to new heights.

     What ensued after the tragedy was an outpouring of love and support within the structure of camp.  Camp has had no practice in this (thankfully). What is ingrained in our tradition, what we want all of our children to learn, was brought to life and action in full throttle in the mountains of North Georgia. 

     The amount of support, love, and counseling that has gone on there over the course of this week amid the sadness and grief has been phenomenal.  Support system is part of the camp structure.  Different activities which served as outlets for the teens were put into place, overseen by caring staff, who also had to deal with their own grief and shock.  Other Ramah camps offered beautiful letters of support, former staff people rallied to their side, and came up to camp to mourn and support and offer condolences. 

     We as parents were dealing with our own emotions at home, unable to hug our own children during this heartbreaking time.   But what got us through this was the knowledge that our children were in the best possible environment and with the best possible people to deal with what they were going through.  This is community.  When our kids come out on the other side of this, they will have experienced the most profound community building.

     The parents of Andrew Silvershein z”l, through their grief, also see the beauty of our Ramah community.  They have set up a memorial scholarship fund in his honor, because they too know, what this community can do to our youth, and for our youth.

     Taking advantage of community for not so savory reasons will still go on, as it did in this week’s Torah portion.  But taking advantage of community in the way I have experienced this week, in the face of this terrible tragedy – this is what we need to teach our children and each other.

Shabbat Shalom.  

Tirdefi Nafshi Oz

Tirdefi nafshi oz:  “March on, my soul, with courage.”  

Ever since I read that verse in the Song of Deborah, it has been resonating in my mind.

The Song of Deborah is a very long haftarah chanted every year on Shabbat Shira.  This Shabbat has a special name because it is the Shabbat of Parshat B’Shallach, in which the Children of Israel, lead by Moses, cross the Sea of Reeds as they make their escape from Mitzraim and the tyranny of Pharoah.   Moses and the Children of Israel sing the Song of the Sea as they cross.  Miriam the prophet, Moses’ sister, takes a timbrel in her hand and leads the women in their own song.

The Song of Deborah comes from the Book of Judges.  Deborah was a judge and a prophet, and sings her song in celebration of divine salvation; as did the Children of Israel sing their song in divine salvation.

Often, a verse will jump out as you read.  It strikes a chord, it has a good cadence, it speaks to you.  The verse “tirdefi nafshi oz” jumped out at me, for all of the above reasons.  Sometimes the terseness of the phrase is conversely related to the depth of its meaning.

At the end of a sad week in January which happened to also coincide with one the worst snowstorms to hit Atlanta, this verse in the haftarah was there for me to read.  Wow.

I had spent the week leading up to Shabbat shaking my head in sorrow and disbelief for two unrelated events.  Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords from Arizona was shot point blank in the head as she was meeting her constituents at a shopping center.  Debbie Friedman, songwriter, song leader, and teacher extraordinaire, died from pneumonia at an LA hospital.   I read all I could about the attempted assassination of Congresswoman Giffords.  I had also spent two hours on a snowed-in Monday afternoon watching and listening to the live feed of the funeral of Debbie Friedman.  These two events converged to create a need for me to “call up the reserves” of my soul and to march on with courage.

Perhaps we could have heard these two heroic women chanting this same verse:

“Tirdefi nafshi oz”, chanted Gabrielle Giffords  as she led her supporters in a place where it was difficult to spread her ideas, and now as she struggles to recover from a gunshot wound to her brain.

“Tirdefi nafshi oz” chanted Debbie Friedman, as she struggled with, and ultimately succumbed to an illness that ended her incredibly powerful life.  A life of song and spirit, whose words, each time I listened to them or sang them with her, moved me to a place that allowed my soul to march on with courage.

In one of Debbie’s most well-known songs,  Mi SheBerach, Debbie sings a phrase “help us find the courage to make our lives a blessing”.  In these times in which we live, it becomes more imperative and indeed necessary to find the courage to make our lives a blessing, as well continue to summon up our souls to march on with courage.

May the memory of Debbie Friedman be a blessing for all of us.  And may we continue to recite the MiSheBerach for Congresswoman Giffords for her refuah shlemah, her speedy recovery.

How Hebrew Schools Are Turning The Corner

How Hebrew Schools Are Turning The Corner