“…We respond both to the experience of being unique, single,
“the loner,” and also to the experience of blending into a team or crew. These responses are antithetical: if it is
natural to thrill to being a single, all-important individual there should be a
negative response to losing one’s identity in a group; yet we find,
paradoxically, that both are thrilling.Saving the day alone, unaided, is the stuff of many a young
person’s fantasy. There is a special
thrill in the awareness that the entire deliverance hinges on one individual;
the very aloneness of that individual in acting is the source of that unique
surge of experience.Yet we thrill when we blend into a harmonious whole so that
the parts of become interlocked indistinguishably: a mass display of precision
gymnastics in which no individual stands out and the entire human mass seems to
function as one being evokes a special feeling in both participants and
onlookers… If one member were to make a small move expressing his particular
individual presence the entire experience would be destroyed.…The thrill of fitting in is a more mature experience than
the thrill of being a loner at any cost.
The immature personality may choose to step out of line in order to
experience its own uniqueness; the fact that the overall structure is betrayed
and damaged is not relevant to the undeveloped mind. Immaturity cannot see the beauty in yielding
the self to actualize the self…”
Ruchi, I just saw some of the American “coverage” of what’s going on in
Israel. PLEASE
tell all your people who get their news from the American media
that it’s so outrageously biased they shouldn’t believe a thing.I’m in
agony over what decent people must think of us because of what they see
and hear (that after a little minor “tit for tat,” Israel decided to
attack
those poor innocents in Gaza). And they won’t ask because they have no
reason to think there’s anything to ask about. They probably have no
idea that the Israeli action is a defensive response to Hamas firing
lots of rockets at Israel unprovoked. They probably have no idea that
Hamas still intends to wipe us out completely.I’m really not scared
(maybe I should be, but I’m not), but it hurts me terribly to see how
innocent viewers are being deluded into believing the worst of us.
A few figures: In 2011 alone,
627 rockets from Gaza hit Israel. This year there have been 1,697,
including 764 until Nov. 14, the day when the present Israeli response
started. Can you imagine any other country taking all that without
responding?
Dear Son,
I think the time has come for me to have a very important chat with you. See, it’s about being Jewish and your future.
I know it doesn’t seem so, but I want to discuss how very important it is for you to marry Jewish. It’s OK to date any girls, and later, women. But when it’s time to get serious, please… only Jewish women. This is a big deal, son. Don’t let me down.
Dad
Dad,
Not sure how I’ll know till I’m well into the relationship whether it’s “time to get serious.”
Your kid
Dear Son,
If it gets serious, and she’s not Jewish, it’s time to break up.
Dad
Dad.
Seriously?? Is that fair to her? Or even me? Are you trying to say I can string her along until it’s no longer convenient for me? At least give me a good reason to back up your request.
Me
Son,
Life is tough enough. Keep as many things in common as possible.
Dad
Dad.
You and mom are both Jewish and still got divorced.
Son,
There were too many Jews killed in the Holocaust. If you don’t marry Jewish, your kids won’t be Jewish. We need all the Jews we can get.
Dad.
Bad marketing, there. Who wants in with the victim? Blah.
Son,
It’s hard for me to articulate why this is so important. Being Jewish is part of our identity.
Dad,
How so? Twice a year? Grandpa changed our name to sound less Jewish. After my bar mitzvah, we did nothing Jewish most of the year. Shouldn’t true love trump some silly nostalgia?
Son,
Are you trying to tell me something?
Dad,
It’s too late. I’m in this relationship already. It’s part of my identity. Every day… much more than twice a year…
Son…
What could I have done differently?
Attachment parenting is not for me. I don’t like people hanging on me or touching me all the time, and I hate being tethered. But who knew it was so controversial?
Bad for the kids… bad for the marriage… bad for the mom… are these accusations true?
After reading about Mayim Bialik’s book and other “out there” attachment parents, I decided to analyze my feelings, and here’s the conclusion I came to. I don’t know if attachment parenting ultimately produces: better or worse kids; kids that are more neurotic or more confident; more exhausted or more serene parents. All I know is that I couldn’t do it.
What impressed me about Mayim is that she didn’t seem to arrive at this parenting approach emotionally, based on her personality. She arrived at it, initially, scientifically.
“Writing her Ph.D. thesis on the role of hormones in obsessive-compulsive
disorder in children with a particular genetic condition, Ms. Bialik
thought deeply about the science of human attachment. At the same time,
friends whose attachment-parenting approach she had once found “kooky
town” (“All they talked about was their kid, and their kid was always on
them,” she said) seemed to be getting impressive results.”
(OK, it helped that she “fell in love” with nursing on demand [aaaagh!!].)
So why am I talking about this?
Pull out the words “attachment parenting” and insert “Orthodox Judaism.”
How many people who feel it’s “not for them” feel the need to dis the system? To prove that it’s flawed? Its proponents backward? Its products worse off for the experience? How rarely have I heard someone admit: “It’s not for me, but I admire it and admire those who are willing to put in the hard work because they consider it a worthwhile system for a better future”?
How much education have the detractors of attachment parenting amassed about what it really means – or is most of the backlash due to ignorance, stereotyping, fear of the unknown and perceived judgment at the hands of adherents?
Recently I posted something about Homecoming on Facebook. One respondent angrily expressed the social mayhem and damage that ensues from these high school dances. A friend of mine later commented (in person – yeah, for reals) that this person was obviously a baal teshuvah – one who adopts Torah observance as an adult – who was unpopular in high school. The assumption was that people arrive at Orthodoxy for emotionally needy reasons.
I reacted by doing something that’s becoming a habit: I lent her a book. This one was by a popular and cool Jewish guy, a consummate jock and highly successful business person, who nevertheless felt that “something was missing” in his life, and intellectually, philosophically, researched and eventually adopted observant Judaism.
If kosher, Shabbat, and other observances are “not for you” that’s cool. I get that. I won’t say I agree, but I, as a detachment parent, get it. But please don’t feel that you then have to dis the system. The system exists – has existed – for thousands of years. Accept it if you wish; accept parts of it if you dare; ignore it if you must. But try to stay philosophical about the issues.
“You don’t recycle?? Don’t you care about the environment? How could you not?? It’s not so hard. Seriously. There are recycle bins wherever you go these days. Can I come over to your house and show you how to do it? I’ll bring the bags and everything. See you tomorrow!”
“You don’t keep kosher?? Don’t you care about your soul? How could you not?? It’s not so hard. Seriously. There’s kosher stuff available wherever you go these days. Can I come over to your house and show you how to do it? I’ll bring the kashering pot and everything. See you tomorrow!”
Questions:
1. Which conversation really happened?
2. Which is more offensive?
3. Would either inspire you to change your ways?
It seems nearly every quasi-affiliated Jew has been on the synagogue quest at some point in his life. And there are many factors that will go into making this match. Where are my friends? Who is the rabbi? How is the sermon? How often do I plan on going? Where is it geographically located? What are the dues? Where does my family go? Am I looking for Hebrew school? What is involved for bnei mitzvah?
But I’ve seen a huge chasm in what people are looking for and what they find, and when people begin learning about shul (which is Yiddish for synagogue) and prayer and what that all involves, they will often find themselves and their families in a huge quandary that even they themselves don’t really understand.
The way I see it, there are two ways to use shul.
#1: Shul is a place to come and be Jewish as a family. We come as a family. We sit as a family. How often we come depends on many things, but it’s a very important part of our Jewish expression to be there, in that Jewish space, doing Jewish things, as a Jewish family.
Also, it’s our Jewish community. With the rabbi/cantor as the leader, we, the flock (so to speak) are led, inspired, and are a family, supporting each other, attending one another’s simchas, and being Jewish together.
Having not grown up “using shul” in this way, I am not really qualified to determine what questions would be asked in this quest, so maybe you, my readers, can fill me in.
#2: Shul is a place to daven (pray). It is a place to talk to God. It is important not to bring young children who could disturb the main goal, which is to talk to God. Coming on time is important, because I don’t want to miss the opportunity to… talk to God.
The rabbi may or may not be my spiritual mentor; it’s OK if he’s not, because I can access spiritual mentors elsewhere. The other attendees may or may not be my Jewish community, which is OK, because I choose the shul based on my ability to pray effectively there. Those factors might include: do they start/end on time? Who leads the prayers – do I find it inspiring and a motivator to have more concentration in my prayers? Is there chit-chat during the service or do people understand why they are there? Is it slow or fast? Some people find that a faster clip makes it easier to concentrate and to remain a faithful (ha ha) attendee. Others find that a slower pace allows them to slow down and really get into it.
Is there a lot of singing? For some, it’s too long-winded (hello, ADHD). For others, it really sets their souls aloft, allowing them to be moved, sometimes even to tears, by the words and melodies. People tend to join in spontaneously and organically, with a layperson leading the service, as opposed to a designated, professional cantor, because everyone in the room is supposed to be talking to God, in his/her own conversation.
***
Many a family has been stuck because one member of the family is using shul in way #1 and the other, in way #2. Shuls, too, are often plagued by the rift, as some people bring young children to shul and others find it a distraction/annoyance. Some come early, others just for kiddush. Some want to pray, some come to schmooze. Is this a problem?
How do you use shul?
I discovered a tradition that non-Orthodox Jews are much more religious about than Orthodox Jews:
Yom Kippur break-fast.
NOJ’s: explain how this ritual works, who comes, who cooks? Is it like Rosh Hashanah dinner sort of thing? What is usually served? How do you decide when to start? I’m so curious.
Cuz we just sort of warm up what we find or scramble some eggs. No company. Too tired.
(PS: I never even heard the word pronounced quite that way till I met my non-Orthodox friends.)