Each of us is experiencing anxiety, discomfort and fear right now. We are living with real circumstances that have repercussions, unknowns and yet-to-unfold realities. We are worrying about families, friends, our communities, ourselves and even strangers in far-off lands. We have never been so united as a country and as global neighbors as we are now. Even the fear of death always is present.
Jewish tradition teaches death is not an end, but a beginning — a belief that may allay some fears. But we should remember we are alive now, challenged by new expectations and protocols. Shifting our perceptions may help wade through this new normal.
Time is no longer the same. In one sense, it feels painfully stagnant — each minute, hour and day moving at a snail’s pace. It also feels like our once easily accessible treasured moments — people, places and activities — are slipping through our fingers. What once seemed so urgent now pales in this current reality. What this means is we must change how we view what we face. Seeing the blessing in the difficult and the gift in the challenge is perhaps what we are called to do.
The world has ceased as we know it, so we now have the opportunities to begin or finish projects avoided and neglected: empty and reorganize files, drawers and closets; curl up with a book that has waited to be opened; talk and connect with distant friends and family; play board games with your children; explore documentaries that offer wisdom; or stream shows and movies you have missed.
“What once seemed so urgent now pales in this current reality.”
Passover is approaching, so the time to clean out our homes of chametz also is an opportunity to clean the chametz from our souls — the unnecessary and outmoded parts of ourselves, such as beliefs and behaviors that prevent moving forward. With more in-home — and at times, solitary moments — an inner search might bring enlightenment.
This is a good time to tap into spiritual resources: prayer, psalms, studying Torah, yoga, nature walks or writing down our deepest fears and concerns as well as our gratitude and gifts. We now have the time to stop, sit, close our eyes and breathe deeply, tapping into the Divine presence. Torah teaches “God formed the human from particles of dust and then blew into the nostrils the souls of life.” With each breath, we touch the gift from the Divine.
We take breathing for granted, but if we get upper-respiratory disease or asthma, we understand how precious this gift is. It nurtures and heals, filling us with necessary oxygen. What we give back feeds all of nature, God’s creation. The breathing technique I suggest has a third part, a pause, resting in the Divine spark. Like half of the Magen David, a triangle, it is three sided.
When we are fearful, we feel alone and alienated. When we take time to sit, close our eyes and breathe — the first step into a place of meditation or mindfulness — we allow ourselves to look inward and be reminded we are not alone. We might even feel safe, if only for a few moments. This is what helps build resilience in times of difficulty. As a caregiver, I have had many moments over the years when I needed to go to that place to affirm and strengthen my core.
Times such as these demand personal attention. The clock is not demanding our attention. Obligations, meetings and schedules have changed and halted in some cases. Shifting our perceptions to see we have been given the gift of time and space creates ease and openness to a more positive attitude. When you are most frightened, stop, sit, close your eyes and breathe: in, out, then pause.
There is light in the dark, sparks to focus on and treasure. Baruch atah Adonai, B’ruchah at Shechinah, Blessed is the One who opens new pathways that are unknown, unexpected and often deep inside ourselves.
Eva Robbins is a rabbi, cantor, artist and the author of “Spiritual Surgery, Journey of Healing Mind, Body and Spirit.”
