Tag: aging

Rabbi Address’s monthly message: No Regrets!

I recently had a chance to spend some time with two women who had been taken to the hospital. Both women, in their 80′s, had survived the random challenges of life; from life threatening illness to deaths of spouses and grandchildren.

RabbiAddressWWDB20130212-00I visited them as they began their recovery from the latest health challenge. We sat and spoke of the coming days of recovery and the associated challenges. Gradually, however, after we exhausted the usual pleasantries and latest medical opinion, we moved on to some reflective conversation.

These women discussed, in their own way, a philosophy of life that saw the world and their place in it, as always open to blessing and challenge. They had also arrived at the stage in their life when they knew that they did not need to prove anything to anyone; that they “owed” nothing to anyone. Life had made sure of that!

I imagine they could have been excused if they had decided that life was giving them too many challenges and their decision would be to turn inward. Not them, however. They discussed the temptation to look  back on life and to focus on the “what might have been”, instead of giving thanks for the “what is”. In fact, one of these vital women looked straight into my eyes and, with tubes running out of her and monitors attached, said “I am  blessed”.

What is it that makes people, of any age, see the world as exciting and open to the possible, instead of a place of regret and disillusionment? Is it genetics, or one’s family of origin? The debates over this question rage on. What the lesson for us, as the generation of the children of these women, is that there is little value in living in a land that is defined by regret. As one of them said to, it does me no good to look back and dwell on the past. I cannot change that. I can only move forward.

So, I wanted to take this lesson and wrap it in a thought that struck me in a very profound way. I must admit, I downloaded the following from a Facebook post  many months ago. I was reminded of it when I spoke with these women and it may be a nice thought to propel us into the summer.

“Life is too short to wake up in the morning with regrets.
So, love the people who treat you right and forget about the one’s who don’t.
And believe that everything happens for a reason.
If you get a chance, take it. If it changes your life, let it!
Nobody said it would be easy; they just promised it would be worth it!”

Shalom,

Rabbi Richard F. Address, D.Min

 

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NJ Death with Dignity Bill: Rabbi Address op-ed article in Trenton (NJ) Times

In an opinion article published May 13, Rabbi Address advocates for religious communities in New Jersey to educate their members about the current Death with Dignity legislation being considered in the New Jersey Legislature.

The bill, A3328, would be similar to legislation in Oregon, which would allow for a terminally ill patient to end his or her life.

Read Rabbi Address’s thoughts on the legislation on the Trenton Times website here.

What do you think about the death with dignity movement?

Leave your comments below on this important issue.

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Bad News: Dancing with our Contract With God….

I just received news that an old friend passed away. For ten years I served as the Rabbi of Congregation B’nai B’rith in Santa Barbara. For ten years my friend, in addition to serving on the board of trustees, was also my dentist. More than that, at least once a month we would sit across from each other at a poker table and participate in what had to be the most irreverent and inappropriate card game in the vicinity.

It was, to be kind, an odd collection of guys and I recall with great clarity that wives would all flee their homes when it was their husband’s turn to host. During that ten year run (the game is still going strong, as far as I know), we were all shaken to our respective cores when one of our number – a pediatrician – grew weak (of all things, holding a Torah as a part of the Beit Din during the chanting of Kol Nidre), had all of the tests and was diagnosed with a really nasty lymphoma. We took turns taking him to chemotherapy. We were all that close. Nothing, as it turned out, worked and he died. His funeral ranks among the top ten most difficult and poignant I have ever conducted.

Rabbi Jonathan P. Kendall, D.D.

Rabbi Jonathan P. Kendall, D.D.

The next month, when we gathered for our poker game, a strange thing happened: none of us could talk about the demise of our buddy.

We danced around the subject as though we were on loan from A Chorus Line. This was not a silence by design or indifference. We just couldn’t fathom the reality. That was then; this is now and when I received word that another of my poker pals had died – well, I felt badly, but I wasn’t shocked into speechlessness.

I do not find death surprising any more. It is a part of the rhythm that the years impose, but usually exempt the young inasmuch as that appalling and inexorable cadence is only really meant to be experienced by those who can handle it, who are prepared for it, who understand that it is an inescapable part of the deal.

That sort of wonderful naiveté is difficult to duplicate.

Good God, we were all so young – in our early to mid-thirties – and the world was, indeed, our oyster. We were all on the way up and we knew it. We basked in the reflected glow of both the present and the future. We all had that difficult – perhaps, impossible – to define optimism that speaks volumes about invincibility (the pediatrician’s death was far outside the ken of our experience).

Now, of course, we all know better.

Sometimes being oblivious isn’t so bad. It often produces behaviors that are both stupid and life-threatening (anyone who has lived with teenagers knows whereof I speak), but actually the survival rate is pretty good in spite of the odds. How many of us have averred,”If I only knew then what I know now?” But we don’t and can’t.

Every generation is forced to make essentially the same mistakes (with small variations), enjoy the same passions (with minor deviations in intensity), endure the same regrets (with small discrepancies) and reach the same conclusions while expressing surprise and wonder at the speed with which we arrived.

The combination to the lock is in the “when” knowledge of this deceptively repetitive clause in our contract with God rises to the level where we actually begin to live our lives in a way better, stronger and wiser than before. Most of the time, sooner is better than later.

But not always…

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Fair Market Value – Comment by Rabbi Jonathan Kendall

I am in the midst of selling my house in anticipation of a move north (I understand that this is a complete reversal of the normal rhythm of Jewish life because when one retires, Florida or some other Sunbelt state is the tradition).

I hate the process. First, you must give up the notion of actually living in your home. While it is on the market, it belongs to the realtor and a parade of potential buyers who traipse through, opening doors and drawers, flushing commodes, providing a running commentary about YOUR taste and generally engaging in behavior that I regard as intrusive.

Rabbi Jonathan Kendall

Rabbi Jonathan Kendall

Not only do those things contribute to the feeling of being displaced and invaded, but I must keep everything spic-and-span, not to mention, neat. I am not a slob, but I also do not dwell in the OCD universe where everything must be in its proper place and free of anything that might diminish the value of the property. There ARE days when everything falls into place and others when the very best of intentions simply unravel.

I have given this commercial journey a lot of thought and whether it conflates – to me – with retirement or the actual move (grandchildren and work in DC are the magnets drawing me away from the Sunshine State), it has emerged as a metaphor for life itself, or at least a chapter thereof.

Within the Jewish heart, after generations of natural selection, there beats an overwhelming desire for success. How that is calculated depends upon the “conditioning” aspect of one’s life.

Achievement may be a function of career, wealth, power, fame, family, relationships, altruism, compassion – each of us might well create a list that, if not endless, certainly would be substantial. And as you are living your life, those tangible and intangible items are next to impossible to telescope or compress. We hear people say that the only thing they want is to love and be loved, but their visible hierarchy of priorities speaks volumes that go in a different direction.

Over time, we learn that what passes for accomplishment, the things that give us satisfaction, are modified and transformed. What used to be very important – the absolute center of our personal universe – can become trivial and even frivolous.

All of this comes under the heading of “a blinding flash of the obvious.” These are metrics understood by everyone. Only the timing of that insight is up for grabs.

It is tragic when we see people come to important realizations when it is already too late – the children and grandchildren have lives of their own, work was a means to an end but it wasn’t your life, friendships allowed to wither through indifference or neglect are difficult to reclaim and best intentions are not actual deeds.

It’s a shame that the circadian rhythm that monitors and adjusts our bodies’ awareness of time doesn’t also have some mechanism that sets off alarms when the substance of our lives is off track or out of sync. I imagine that’s why values are so very important. But here, I would make a serious distinction between word and deed – or – best intentions and reality. Too often I see people confuse their best intentions with actually doing something. There is a message here, especially as we grow older and our vision (while declining in sharpness) becomes more refined. It most likely revolves around the meme of not just “talking the talk” but also “walking the walk.”

I have stood at the bedsides of people who are on their last legs. They often confess to me a litany of regrets that revolve around the best usage of time and boil down to the very human failure of not thinking the best, doing the noblest while finding transient happiness in the wrong things. We are all guilty of these human foibles, but some more than others.

I cannot begin to tell you how many times I have wanted to shake the daylights out of a prostrate and struggling soul – to at least verbally slap them upside the head and say “You blew it. It goes too fast and you wasted most of it!” Alas, I have never summoned the courage to do that. Instead, I make noises about everyone making mistakes in judgment. But I do say it to myself all the time. And, I don’t mind confessing that every once and a while I slap myself silly. It ought to be the trope of everyone who looks at the calendar and sees more behind than ahead.

When the time comes to meet my eternity, I want to be able to enter the shelter of God’s wings knowing full well that I received full market value, that I made the right investments in others and in myself. It is far better to know these things now than wait until time is too short and some Rabbi is standing at your bedside.

 

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Sprituality and Aging – Commentary from Rabbi Lawrence Kotok

In beginning – I was asked this past year to participate in planning a conference on seniors and spirituality and then to offer the keynote address. Today I would like to share with you some of the thoughts I offered that may help us understand and engage this concept.

There are three stories that will frame our discussion today – the first the familiar words of Rabbi Alvin Fine – that for me sets the issue for us all:

Birth is a beginning and death a destination;
but life is a journey. A going, a growing from stage to stage: from childhood to maturity and youth to old age.

From innocence to awareness and ignorance to knowing;
from foolishness to discretion and then perhaps, to wisdom. From weakness to strength or strength to weakness and often back again. From health to sickness and back we pray, to health again.

From offense to forgiveness, from loneliness to love,
from joy to gratitude, from pain to compassion.
From grief to understanding, from fear to faith;
from defeat to defeat to defeat, until, looking backward or ahead: we see that victory lies not at some high place along the way, but in having made the journey, stage by stage, a sacred pilgrimage.

Birth is a beginning and death a destination;
but life is a journey, a sacred pilgrimage,
made stage by stage…to life everlasting.

Rabbi Lawrence Kotok

Rabbi Lawrence Kotok

The second is from Mitch Albom’s book – Have a Little Faith: A True Story: my insertions: “a minister, a rabbi, a priest, or an iman began their sermon with a stirring reminder: everyone in this congregation is going to die!

The clergyman looked around. He noticed a man in the front pew smiling. “Why are you so amused?” he asked.

“I’m not from this congregation,” the man said, “I’m just visiting my sister for the weekend.”

The third: the most personal – a story from my own life. When my father died when I was 26 – we found a piece of paper in his wallet upon which he had written, “human beings are born with two terminal illnesses –one is hope-the other is life itself. The one tries to make us believe the other isn’t reality.”

There you have it – the tension between reality and human frailty – hope and age -so my friends the balance between life and death is a moving target impacting all of us more or less –depending where you are on the road- on the bar graph of life –all of us run the spectrum. Each of us form our own reality between the choices.

Remember these words, as we consider the concept of the spirituality of aging – I first look to our religious traditions – for the historic norms. The bible is full of references to aging.

Psalms 92:13 The righteous shall flourish like the palm-tree; they shall grow like a cedar in Lebanon.

Psalms 92:14 Planted in the house of God, they shall flourish in the courts of our God.

Psalms 92:15 They shall still bring forth fruit in old age; they shall be full of sap and richness…positive words.

Psalm 71:  For you are my hope; o Lord God, my trust from my youth.

6 Upon you have I stayed myself from birth; you took me out of my mother’s womb; my praise is continually of you.

7 I am as a wonder unto many; but you are my strong refuge.

8 My mouth shall be filled with your praise, and with your glory all the day.

9 Cast me not off in the time of old age; when my strength fails, forsake me not.

Here we need to understand the concern about the changes life brings to all of us. It is for those who help and for seniors themselves to understand.

Isaiah 46: 3 Hearken unto me, o House of Jacob, and all the remnant of the House of Israel, that are borne [by me] from the birth, that are carried from the womb:

4 even to old age I am the same, and even to hoary hairs will I carry you; I have made, and I will bear; yea, I will carry, and will deliver.

We learn here the positive connections that are so important at all stages of lives and even more so as we age.

Leviticus 19 : 32 You shall rise up before the hoary head, and honor the face of the old man, and you shall respect your God: I am the Lord.

Do we honor and respect the elderly?

Each biblical reference acknowledges reality with a sense of dignity trust and hope – does our culture and society hold the same values? Some do some don’t – for some the elderly are to be respected and valued – others see them as outsiders or a burden – always troubled me when I visit nursing homes or senior centers – where are the families???

Today we consider the inter relationship between spirituality and life – I would suggest that potential relationship occurs at all points of one’s life – as Alvin Fine said it so well, “from youth to age” –what has changed? Perhaps a bit more frailty and dependence – that brings a vulnerability that we ignore most of our lives as we highlight our independence and strength – why then is age a weakness and not possibly as the bible would teach a source of wisdom –

Psalm 90: The days of our years are threescore years and ten, or even by reason of strength fourscore years; yet is their pride but travail and vanity; for it is speedily gone, and we fly away.

12 so teach us to number our days, that we may get us a heart of wisdom.

Dr. Ken Pargament is a professor of psychology at Bowling Green State University. He studies the relationship between religion, psychological well-being and stress.

Pargament has published more than 100 papers on the subject of religion and spirituality. His research has provided clinically relevant scientific analyses of religion’s role in mental health. One of Pargament’s best known areas of research has pertained to religious coping, which involves drawing on religious beliefs and practices to understand and deal with life stressors.

Individuals who grow up with a strong religious background seem to negotiate age with greater happiness – his research teaches us the opportunity to reduce risk and stress – providing better more effective coping skills that help get us through life’s changes.

In addition strong faith brings us the benefits of social connections – concrete support from our communities of faith.

And perhaps most importantly a life long sense of self – identity not limited to what we did but who we are as human beings.

I hope many of you have read or will go back and look at Judith Vorst’s now over 20 year old book, Necessary Losses: The Loves, Illusions, Dependencies, and Impossible Expectations That All of Us Have to Give Up in Order to Grow

In this book she describes so well the challenges we have as we grow with friendships – relationships that change through time – and how we need to find new connections at all points in our lives or we end up living in isolation.

So here we are today – what are our choices as we consider our lives – how we live and where we live -i see two views – and in essence two vantage points for consideration – the first is based in the forming of the individual – the other on the environment, the community we live in.

But first what do you bring to life – what do you bring to a new living situation – how can each of us make that better or easier – how can we reinforce your sense of worth – identity and meaning – my answer is in building the sacred community – in building a community that is attuned to the special realities you as seniors begin to face – all of the many aspects of frailty and dependence –both physical and mental – and even if none of those  occur the struggle with the perceived loss of independence that comes with both physical and emotional change -moving into a new apartment – or having to give up driving…all of these impact us at some point if we are lucky enough to keep living – none of us are exempt. The ultimate difference is how each individual faces or denies these known realities – whether they do them alone or in a supportive community –and that is where the spirituality of the individual can  make all the difference as all of us negotiate life’s twists and turns. We can help in this journey if we have established or can build new trusting relationships with them.

The second view – is how we build the environment of the community that we live in – how are you welcomed and how do you welcome others – I will use the word “strangers” into – rochester is unique – history and stability –sometimes helpful sometimes not – closed . What matters is how you welcome each other and what you do next – because saying hello is an every day event – welcoming is a process that creates a certain reality –

Spirituality is at the very core of culture – you can try and teach it but ultimately if it is to be real and believable it must be the natural outcome of how we relate to each other.

Our senior population has changed in the past decades – in the 1990’s I served as the chair jewish services for the aged for new york city – we knew the old perceptions of aging were over – enough with the bingo and the finger painting – these are generations of folks who want substance – who are looking for more – who in many cases still have much to give and want real meaning in their lives and that is where serious programming that is developed jointly can make a difference.

Our hope and goal is for all of us to continue to find meaning in life – at every stage along the way – that is what ultimately makes life a sacred pilgrimage – made stage by stage – with caring and community – with engagement and hope – that is our task and our challenge.

Books mentioned in this article:
  

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Lucky Lady | Short story by Stefanie Levine Cohen

This is a short thought piece on a woman coping with life following the death of her husband. The protagonist, Netty, tells us about her dreams and the challenges of coping with living a life not full. She tells her story in the imagery of her own fall and recovery, through dreams and conversations.

Stefanie Levine Cohen

Stefanie Levine Cohen

In the January 2013 issue of The Montreal Review, Cherry Hill author Stefanie Levine Cohen weaves a challenging story that includes a wonderful passage on how we mark time as grand parents as opposed to parents.

“We were so grateful to see them born, to see them play and run. But they grew strong as we grew weak. They learned things we didn’t even know existed.”

To read the complete story go to: Lucky Lady | Short story by Stefanie Levine Cohen.

Stefanie Levine Cohen received her bachelor’s and master’s degrees in English from the University of Pennsylvania and her JD from the New York University School of Law. She worked as a fiction editor for Philadelphia Stories.

Founded in 2009, The Montréal Review is an independent, nonpartisan online publication on current affairs, books, art, culture and ideas. We publish short stories, poetry, essays and book reviews on politics, economics, science, society, religion, philosophy, art and culture.

 

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Down the Slide

A silly moment, puzzling at the time. “I never put peas in stew.” I scratched my head. I’d been eating my mother’s stew all my life, and knew the recipe…beef, onions, carrots, potatoes, peas, etc. I tried to refresh my mom’s memory. She thought about it, finally conceding, “I guess you’re right.” And I gave it no more thought until a few weeks later, when she made stew, and lo and behold, no peas.

Rabbi Mark Weider

Rabbi Mark Weider

In the larger scheme of things, a lack of peas is not a tragedy. And certainly, it didn’t rate nearly as high up on the scale of cooking mishaps as the time my mother gave out a cake recipe to my aunt, inadvertently mixing up the salt and sugar measurements. I won’t reproduce my aunt’s “salty” remarks here.

The lack of peas was my first time noticing a decline in my mother’s memory. When I got over the frustration of being told something I knew wasn’t true, it could be somewhat humorous. When my mom told me she had never owned a cell phone, I remembered the extensive discussions with her about how she had to keep the phone charged—that sitting in the glove box of her car it wouldn’t stay usable if, God forbid, something happened.

It’s somewhat probable that mom never actually used her cell phone. But it would have been helpful for the times she got turned around enroute somewhere. Her sense of direction had never been good; senility had nothing to do with it. “I was coming home from A.’s, and you’ll never guess where I wound up.” “At the airport?” “HOW DID YOU KNOW THAT!!!” “Well, mom, if you don’t turn onto I271, that’s where you wind up.” “Oh.”

All the family members of residents with dementia I work with have stories to tell about how their loved ones have changed. In some cases it is facts that are missing, situations forgotten, medicine not taken properly, plans not remembered. In other cases, it might be an inability to form a new memory, a lack of impulse control, or a change in personality.

How we react as our loved ones decline varies greatly. My cousin A. (whose home my mother had trouble returning from) continued to get angry at mom. She would yell, and my mother would get frightened and confused. Luckily that would pass. A.’s continued lament was, “I want my aunt back.” Except in rare cases of pharmacologically-induced mental changes, dementia doesn’t clear up.

Most certainly there are good days and bad days, even good and bad times of day. There can be visits where we see the old sparkle in the eyes, or where we really reach someone through music or art, or perhaps a fragrance. The downhill slope may be very slow or quite rapid. There can be plateaus that seem endless. And there are times that someone who has been “out of it” for quite a time suddenly scores very high on a mini-mental exam. I know that I’ve done my share of praying for the good days of a lot of people.

Accepting the sense of loss when our loved ones change is not easy, especially when a spouse or partner is no longer the same. How do we go from having someone with whom to share hopes and dreams, travel, a physical, sexual, and spiritual relationship, to someone who requires caretaking.

While most of us come to terms with what must be done, whether it means taking away driving privileges, wresting control over the finances, obtaining adult day care or home health care, others remain in denial, sometimes to the point of endangering themselves, their loved ones, and others. There are times when nothing more can be said, where we can only pray for others to find their way. The time when we must cede control to God. This prayer has the potential to liberate and empower us.

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Chaplain’s Diary: Mindreading and Grudges

Editor’s Note: This month we welcome a new contributor to JSA, Rabbi Mark Wieder, the Campus Chaplain at River Garden Hebrew Home/Wolfson Health & Aging Center and The Coves in Jacksonville, Florida.

Rabbi Mark Wieder

Rabbi Mark Wieder

“She knows what she did.” The grim-voiced woman recounted a decades-old hurt. “I wouldn’t care if it had been directed at me, but you hurt my kids…”

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Jewish Sacred Aging Podcast #6: A conversation with Rabbi Douglas Kohn about Judaism, Cancer, Alzheimer’s

Rabbi Douglas Kohn, Congregation Emanu El, Redlands, CA

In this program, Podcast #6 in our series, Rabbi Address chats with Rabbi Douglas Kohn of Congregation Emanu El, Redlands, CA about his two books, Life, Faith, and Cancer, about his own battle with cancer, and his newest book, Broken Fragments, which offers a Jewish perspective on Alzheimer’s Disease.

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Broken Fragments (Paperback)

By (author): Douglas J. Kohn

In this superb volume, noted author Douglas J. Kohn weaves into each chapter's narrative rich Jewish texts with essays and touching personal stories by physicians, Jewish clergy, social workers, and family members of people with Alzheimer s disease. Broken Fragments offers the comfort and the wisdom of our ancient tradition while providing insight, meaning, and encouragement for the Alzheimer s caregiver of today.
List Price: $16.95 USD
New From: $11.65 USD In Stock
Used from: $11.11 USD In Stock

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Calm in the face of life: A reflection from Jewish ethical tradition

The parsha entitled Chaye Sarah, the Life of Sarah, begins with Sarah’s death at the age of 127.  Abraham purchases a burial site for his wife, the cave of Machpelah, from Ephron the Hittite for four hundred shekels of silver and buries her there.

Abraham sends his servant Eliezer to Charan to find a wife for Isaac. At the village well, Eliezer asks Gd for a sign so that he can determine which young woman is the one for Isaac.  He decides that when the maidens come to the well, he will ask for some water to drink; the woman who offers to give his camels a drink as well shall be the one destined to wed his master’s son.

Hope Honeyman LCSW

Hope Honeyman LCSW

Rebecca, the daughter of Abraham’s nephew Bethuel, appears at the well and immediately offers Eliezer and his camels water.  Eliezer is invited to her home, where he shares the day’s eventswith her family. Rebecca returns with Eliezer to the land of Canaan, where they encounter Isaac praying in the field. Isaac marries Rebecca, loves her, and is comforted from the loss of his mother.

Abraham marries Hagar and fathers six more sons, but Isaac is designated as his only heir. Abraham dies at age 175 and is buried beside Sarah by his two eldest sons, Isaac and Ishmael.

This week’s middah, Menuchat hanefesh, which means calmness of the soul in Hebrew, is about achieving an inner equilibrium that is not upset by the ups and downs that are a part of daily life. Rabbi Menachem Mendel Lefin speaks about this concept and encourages “rising above events that are inconsequential – both good and bad – for they are not worth disturbing your equanimity.”

Mussar scholar Alan Morinis teaches that we cannot insulate ourselves from life’s trials, but we can prepare for them, and fostering a calm soul readies us to be the kind of people who can and will pass their life tests.  Or, as Jon Kabat-Zinn, mindfulness meditation teacher says, “There will always be waves.  The trick is to learn how to surf. “

In this week’s parsha, there are many examples of equanimity exhibited on the parts of Abraham, Sarah, Eliezer, Isaac, and Ishmael.

The beginning of this parsha finds Abraham with a legacy of trauma…in the prior parsha, he has banished his eldest son to the desert and to possible death and he has led his other son up a mountain to be sacrificed.  While both sons survive their ordeals, the family is shattered.  No one ever speaks again…neither Abraham and Sarah, nor Abraham and either of his children.  When Abraham journeys home from Moriah, he returns to find his wife dead.

Most of us, under these circumstances, would find it hard to maintain our composure when challenged.  But when Eliezer questions Abraham about his plan to find Isaac a bride asking, “what if the woman does not consent to follow me to this land…?”  Abraham answers his servant without getting ruffled, explaining his plan at which point Eliezer swears to do his master’s bidding.

Rabbi Stone teaches that menuchat hanefesh must be cultivated in anticipation of future events.  “The very nature of G-d is expressed as futurity.” While Eliezer is busy praying to G-d to find a wife for Isaac and to establish a sign that this is she, Rebecca appears at the well before Eliezer has barely finished his prayer.

Isaac, too, evidences equanimity as he meditates in the fields, perhaps preparing himself for marriage, even at the moment that his bride arrives at his home.

And let us not forget Sarah.  A midrash says that we hear of Sarah’s death in connection with her lifetime because her years were truly filled with life and that this is one of the reasons why the Hebrew text expresses her lifespan of 127 years in an unusually extended fashion as 100 years and 20 years and 7 years.  Rashi says “the word years is repeated and without number to indicate that they were all equally good.  But there must be differences, variations, and changes during the years of a person’s lifetime.  There are special times during a person’s youth and special times during a person’s old age.  But the ones who are truly righteous find fulfillment in all their days.” One can surmise that Sarah practiced equanimity in order to rise above events that are inconsequential.

Furthermore, Sarah is silent throughout most of the Torah.  In fact, she only speaks 8 lines in the entire Torah.  Is it possible that she is practicing equanimity to uphold and support G-d’s wishes and Abrahams’s destiny?

Although not in this parsha, it is worth mentioning that even righteous women are human and evidence disequilibrium.  When G-d promised Sarah that she would become pregnant with Isaac, she laughed…in this case, an example of losing one’s equanimity upon experiencing good news.

The final and ultimate example of equanimity in this parsha is evidenced by Isaac and Ishmael at Abraham’s death when the two brothers come together, despite being torn apart by childhood trauma, to bury their father.  Rabbi Adam Greenwald says, “What has been lost to them – love, innocence, a sense of security — will never be fully restored.  Yet, in this moment, we bear witness to their placing the past in the ground” rising above the past in order to do what is right by their father.  “We can imagine them walking away from the gravesite, perhaps with tears in their eyes, but also perhaps with a great sense of liberation.”

It is this last act of letting go that the two brothers come together not only to bury their father, but in this one moment, to bury the past.  It is only through equanimity and through this letting go that we can open up to new ways of being with each other.

Rabbi Greenwald reminds us that through this parsha, “we are called to have the courage of Ishmael and Isaac, who were able to do the painful and powerful work of putting their past behind them.  We are taught, gently but persistently, of the value of setting down our burdens and embracing a new future.  We are offered the capacity to walk toward a tomorrow that is undefined, but in which we are completely free.”

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