Enough! I can't take it any more!
This feeling rose up from within her, gaining momentum,
filling her mind and blocking all of her thought processes.
It had not begun that very day, but had been building up for
several months. She was feeling a growing lassitude, a lack
of vitality. She saw the routine of her day as a non-ending
circle of doing laundry, hanging it up, taking it down,
folding, ironing, peeling, cutting, cooking. Of pots, plates,
diapers, bottles and feeding. Child caring, toy gathering,
bed making, house cleaning, mending and related unending
activities and worries. And she was all alone. Her husband
came home late each night, no less tired and worn out than
she.
At first, this was only a passing sensation with which she
grappled by way of bursts of energy, recompensing herself
with the pleasure she took from the children she loved and
her orderly, functioning home. But with time, those negative
feelings attacked her more frequently and began interfering
with the smooth running of her work day.
Contending with these feelings was becoming increasingly more
difficult. It had begun to be difficult for her to seek
pleasure in her adorable children because of the nonstop rush
to get things done, to keep things running on her treadmill
schedule.
More and more frequently, she found herself in the midst of a
rush hour, just sitting and staring into empty space, not
doing anything, as if she had surrendered in total defeat.
Lately, a deep feeling had begun to possess her that this
situation could not continue as is. Without a definite
solution, she would surely crack up, break down. She began to
feel that it was an emergency situation. This was not self
pampering; it was a very threatening danger.
She was beginning to see the first cracks heralding an
oncoming collapse. She banished the word `breakdown' from her
consciousness but it wormed its way into her subconscious
mind, waiting for another moment of weakness, another
surrender. She felt certain that she would not be able to
extract herself from the quicksand, once she fell in, and
that she would slowly sink deeper and deeper... She knew for
sure that something from the outside would be required to
rescue her from her desperate situation.
And then she remembered him. It was that rabbi who had been
brought especially to teach them Yahadus lessons in
seminary. In his marvelous talks, he had built up a firm
structure of Jewish identity and implanted it into her mind
and heart, and those of her fellow students. He had tried to
establish the foundations to the structure very firmly so
that they endure throughout their lives. He was the person,
she decided, to whom to turn.
Suddenly, she felt a sense of purpose and direction. After
talking it over with her husband, who encouraged her, she
called up the rabbi. His wife answered and after a wait of
several moments, she said that he would be able to receive
her that evening. She arranged for a baby-sitter and off she
went.
The rabbi's wife opened the door and led her to their living
room, which served as a library and office, as well. The
rabbi was seated by a large table piled high with books, most
of them open, and several handwritten pages in front of him.
He did not recognize her by face but as soon as she mentioned
her maiden name, he immediately recalled her handwriting and
the year she had graduated from school. He organized the
things on the table, set them aside, and sat ready to hear
her out.
She thanked his wife when she entered with a tray of cold
drinks and then began to describe her situation in very bleak
colors. She told him of her daily schedule and how full it
was. She spoke of the constant activity around the house and
children that was wearing her down, and of the lack of
satisfaction she felt. She saw everything as a non-ending
cycle, with no direction, no end in sight. She felt like she
was on a fast-moving treadmill of work and worries which
began from the moment she opened her eyes until she retired
late at night — with a feeling of emptiness and lack of
accomplishment, without joy, without energy or strength to
continue on.
Having unburdened herself thus, she already felt some relief
and sat waiting for his reaction. He concentrated his
thoughts for a suitable reply and soon began to speak. The
sound of his voice carried her back to those marvelous days
when she had sat in the classroom, without worries, young and
fresh, full of joie de vivre, vigorous, attentive,
together with her school friends, and very receptive to the
ideas he presented to them.
He began in a somewhat ceremonious tone, as if he was
addressing a larger audience:
"To manage a Jewish home and raise Jewish children —
what in the world could be greater than that? The purpose of
the world is not bound up with the stock exchange or with
politics, not with shopping sprees or vacations abroad, not
with eating or with entertainment. Hashem desires His devout
ones, the ones who fear Him, who serve Him, who study His
Torah and live by its teachings.
"Everything in the whole world was created precisely for them
and only a Jewish home can provide the background for the
ultimate execution of the purpose of the world. From the
mezuza on the doorpost to the partition between the
dairy sink and the meaty one, and on to the Friday
preparations for Shabbos. All of these physical acts which
appear through a superficial glance to be so mundane, are the
very basis and backdrop upon which the Jewish home stands.
This is the repository for the Shechina, the locus for
the activities of Jewish life, where little Jews are raised
to become the future people who are fulfilling the huge
blueprint, the raison d'etre of the whole world
according to Hashem's will.
"A person who internalizes this, one who lives and acts with
an ongoing awareness of this, is the happiest person
possible. He knows that all of Creation is looking up at him,
expecting him to carry out the purpose of the world. He feels
no fatigue; rather, he proceeds with vigor, excitement, joy
to do whatever he consciously understands is his goal, and
what obligates him in life. In his thoughts, he is plugged in
to the source of all energy. A prayer-song vibrates within
him as he goes about performing the most simple, technical
acts, which he sublimates by way of his thoughts and intents
to a high degree of sanctity in G-dly worship.`Serve Hashem
through joy.' The letters besimchah are identical to
those of machshovoh, thought.
"What ruins the idyllic, heavenly blissful life which our
Creator designed for the beloved ones whom he created in His
own image is forgetfulness. Most of those who are steeped in
holy works tend to forget, with the passing of years, the
goal towards which they are striving, the purpose of their
lives. They fail to fulfill the command of, `Know before Whom
you toil.' And subsequently, they sink into routine and
boredom, into fatigue, lassitude, melancholy, and drown in
the emptiness of purposelessness.
"There are some doctors, for example who, for their own good
and for the good of those who require their services, would
be wise to listen again to that marvelous, idealistic,
altruistic declaration which they themselves made in some
interview before the acceptance committee of the medical
faculty of their schools of medicine. They were then asked
the question: Why do you want to be a doctor? A pity they
didn't record the answer they gave at that time.
"It is interesting to note that an average grocer or
shopkeeper does not fall into the trap of forgetting the
purpose of his shop and what it is meant to accomplish. He is
constantly aware of the reason why he is working so hard. He
doesn't tire or get bored. If he sells buttons, for example,
he will rummage tirelessly among seventy boxes of red buttons
to find the one his customer is looking for. Even at five to
seven, after a full day on his feet, he is still waiting for
the customer that may still walk in and add a few pennies to
his cashbox. We must learn from the shopkeeper how to keep
our memories fresh and active so as to avoid the erosion
which we are liable to experience.
"My advice is that when you are at your best, when the
purpose of your life as a Jewess is standing clearly before
you, to write down your feelings. Flip through your old
notebooks of Yahadus lessons from seminary in which
you summed up the talks, and write on a separate clean sheet
of paper how you view the ideal Jewish life as you absorbed
and understood it when you were at your vigorous prime, at
the peak of your spiritual growth. Take this paper, with its
recipe for life, and hide it somewhere between the pages of a
book on an upper bookshelf. Then, when you are feeling low,
when you need a morale booster, take some time off, some
quiet time. Take down that page and read what you, yourself,
wrote, and remind yourself of the forgotten truth.
"When you remember the goal, you will suddenly be aware of
the significance of all of your actions and their sublime
value. You will discover within yourself a spring bubbling
with energy and happiness, the fountain of joy and
fulfillment which you are always carrying within you. You
need only, from time to time, roll off the boulder that plugs
it up, the boulder of forgetfulness and routine, and release
the fresh flowing waters to invigorate you with the beautiful
truth of your purpose. Just allow it to flood you with its
happiness and joy..."
