mortality

We do more than lift our feet

In Rachel Kadish’s book The Weight of Ink (Mariner Books, 2017), the fictional Rabbi Moseh HaCoen Mendes, living in London, England, in the year 1657, writes a letter to Rabbi Manasseh ben Israel in Amsterdam (who was a real person), using the phrase “we lift our feet.”

In the time the novel was set, the Inquisition in Spain and Portugal was still raging but Holland had opened its doors to refugees. Ben Israel traveled to England to try and persuade Oliver Cromwell to allow Jews back into the country, from which they had been expelled in 1290. His argument was that Jews had to be present in every country if the Messiah was to arrive in 1666. While he didn’t manage to open up England to Jewish immigration, Cromwell did permit the 20 Jewish families then living in London in hiding, pretending to be Christians, to live openly as Jews. It proved in the end to be the thin edge of the wedge.

In this letter of consolation to ben Israel, Kadish has Mendes write the following passage: “Our life is a walk in the night, we know not how great the distance to the dawn that awaits us. And the path is strewn with stumbling blocks and our bodies are grown tyrannous with weeping, yet we lift our feet. We lift our feet.”

I was struck by the fatalism of Kadish’s rabbi. He was expressing a common outlook of religious people in the era – that our lives on earth are lived in a vale of tears, and that our hopes must centre on the beyond. And yet, the Jewish philosophy of life has always been that we must live the life we have here on earth to the fullest. Different from some other views, we deny that our lives should be lived solely in the hope of some future reward.

It is true that, come what may, our role is to “lift our feet” and keep on going. This is a staple of Jewish thinking. We keep on going. We keep on trying. We are the nation of try. If we surrender to the obstacles we face, we are beaten before we start. There is so much around all of us, whatever our background, that can be discouraging, but we can’t allow it to get us down.

Persistence in the pursuit of the goals we seek is a hallmark of Jewish life, and of successful people of every persuasion. We are not easily deterred. Our parents, like many others of immigrant origins, worked their whole lives to try and ensure that their children would get an education and a better start in their lives than was the case for them. Many Jews have gravitated to the research fields, where years of effort are required to achieve results.

Many large enterprises that mark the commercial landscape were once small businesses initiated by Jewish entrepreneurs. From banking, to groceries, from the shmatte (rag) business, to high fashion, it is difficult to find an area of economic activity where Jews have not shown their hand. Remember Bugsy Siegel and Murder Inc.?

Our seeming job in this life is to keep on keeping on. But many of us continue to search for a rationale for human existence. We know that the struggle for survival is in the nature of all living things. That is nature’s imperative. As thinking humans, though, many of us seek other reasons for our being, explanations beyond mere survival. We do not know how long our trip will be before we see the “dawn,” but, in the meantime, many of us are not satisfied that just reproducing ourselves is enough to justify the existence of the universe we are experiencing.

For Jews, the business of survival over the years has been an interminable task accompanied by incalculable losses. But, though few in number, we have survived and, where we have had the tools of defence, we have prevailed. Our religious say we are here to celebrate the glory of G-d, in whose image we have been created. Oh yes, and we are also supposed to provide a model so that all peoples will come to recognize His Oneness and supremacy. It has been a painful task, and not many of us are ready to own up to that particular role.

In these days, when religious speculation about life’s purposes is far from the central issue of our time, it is still important in the lives of millions of people. Even for those of us who are not among them, many of us would like to believe there is some purpose in our lives beyond mere existence.

Many people devote a good part of their thinking and their actions to improving the lives of others beyond their immediate circle, and they draw some sustenance and psychic reward from those efforts. Some people believe that certain issues are more important than even their own lives and, indeed, they stand ready to lay down their lives, if need be, in defence of these ideas.

Helping others and a willingness to die for our beliefs both point to things that we value beyond mere existence. Yes, we go on “lifting our feet,” but with principles that guide us until we reach the “dawn.”

Max Roytenberg is a Vancouver-based poet, writer and blogger. His book Hero in My Own Eyes: Tripping a Life Fantastic is available from Amazon and other online booksellers.

Editor’s Note: This article has been edited to make clear that Rabbi Moseh HaCoen Mendes is a fictional character.

What made your list?

Robin Esrock contemplating ancient wonders in Turkey. (photo by Paul Vance/EWM)

Read about Robin Esrock’s visit to a fountain of youth in Colombia, his rail journey across Siberia, his diving lessons in Papua New Guinea. Esrock has traveled to more than 100 countries and, as he writes in the introduction to The Great Global Bucket List, the hybrid guidebook and essay collection “draws together the best of these adventures.” What’s more, Esrock hopes that you won’t just read about his exploits, but make plans for your own.

Esrock is one of the many writers participating in this year’s Cherie Smith JCC Jewish Book Festival, which runs Nov. 27-Dec. 1. The local author and journalist has not only been featured in the Jewish Independent before – for The Great Canadian Bucket List, among other things – but has written for the paper as well, so it was nice to catch up with him in anticipation of his Nov. 27, 5 p.m., presentation at the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver, appropriately called Travel Dreams.

While his career as an intrepid traveler only started after a bike accident – from which he received a broken kneecap and, eventually, a $20,000 insurance settlement that was “just enough,” he writes, “if used sparingly, to book a solo one-year adventure around the world” – he had traveled before.

“My first trip overseas was to Israel when I was 11, on a discovery tour, with my family and grandparents,” he told the Independent. “It was a hop-on, hop-off bus trip to tick off Israel’s greatest hits. I did a European bus tour after high school, memorable in that I can’t remember much of it, a two-month stint to a kibbutz, and then backpacked up East Africa to Zanzibar. I didn’t get malaria, but I did get the travel bug. I lived in London for a couple years and used that as a base to visit various odd spots in Europe, but the idea of traveling around the world always seemed like an impossible dream. Once it finally manifested, the result of a modest insurance settlement for my accident, I couldn’t believe I’d waited so long.”

The accident occurred as Esrock was approaching his 30th birthday. On that first yearlong trip, he visited 24 countries and was “published in newspapers on five continents.”

He writes, “A year later, my Hail-Mary pitch for a TV show landed on the right desk at the right time and, seven months later, I found myself as a co-host, writer and producer for a 40-part adventure series filmed in 36 countries. Funded by television networks, I was tasked with seeking out experiences that conformed to my bucket list criteria: Is this destination or activity unique? Is it something I will never forget? Will it make a great story? Is it something everyone can actually do?

“Tick off all those subjective items, and the journey began.”

These were the same criteria Esrock used to compile his shortlist for The Great Global Bucket List. Then, he said, “I had to cut 27 chapters for size in my book, but, fortunately, I have a Bucket List blog (globalbucketlist.com) to find them a home, and add new experiences. In my book, you’ll find far-flung adventures (Antarctica! the Galapagos! the Azores! the Amazon!) but you won’t find the Eiffel Tower or Tower of Pisa. This is a book of inspiring stories and photographs, not a guide to popular tourist traps.”

In addition to experiencing many a far-flung adventure over the last decade or so, Esrock has also found the time to start a family. How has that changed his travel plans?

photo - Robin Esrock camping in Antarctica — Robin Esrock camping in Antarctica. (photo by Jeff Topham)

“There seems to be a subtle flow in the career of travel writers: you start with hardcore budget travel, transition into hard adventure, then soft adventure, romance, family, cruise, food, wine, spa, and end up in golf!” he said. “I don’t take the risks I once did, or have the energy to sleep in roach hotels. People have become more important than ever and, since I’ve managed to tick off so much, I’m very drawn to unique experiences. My kids are a little young (3 and 3 months) to start ticking off a family bucket list, but I’d love to take them to countries like India, Cambodia, Israel and Turkey, where locals embrace children. Disneyland can wait.”

And his own bucket list?

“Write a novel that explains, in an entertaining way, everything I have learned on my journey. Raise my kids to be curious and up for anything, so they can join me on future adventures. And I’d love to get to the five ’Stans on the Silk Road in Central Asia, which has a rich history, few tourists, and is undergoing a fascinating modern transformation.”

Esrock added, “There’s too much bad news out there. The 24/7 news cycle dictates that bad news must be happening somewhere, all the time. The goal with my bucket lists, and with my career in general, is to provide some much-needed good news. In all my journeys, I’ve never been robbed, attacked, violently ill or had my organs harvested (at least to my knowledge!). The world is far more welcoming, reasonable, peaceful and beautiful than you’d imagine.

“Some people see bucket lists as a silly, ultimately harmful pastime that creates unrealistic goals. I see them as a mechanism for positive inspiration. You don’t have to go sandboarding on a volcano in Nicaragua or cage swim with crocodiles. You just have to do that thing you’ve always wanted to do, even if it’s just fixing the garden. We don’t have nearly as much time as we think we do. Every chapter in my book concludes with ‘Start Here,’ and an online link to practical info for readers to follow in my footsteps. More important, I think, is to start now.”

For the full book festival schedule and tickets, visit jccgv.com/content/jewish-book-fest.

The idea behind a bucket list is that life is finite and, if there are things we would like to do, we should do them while we can. The Cherie Smith JCC Jewish Book Festival opens the night of Nov. 27 with San Francisco-based writer and psychiatrist Dr. Irvin D. Yalom in conversation with Vancouver psychotherapist Larry Green. The title of Yalom’s most recent book, Creatures of a Day, comes from Marcus Aurelius’ The Meditations, to which Yalom refers more than once in his writings, and from which he quotes at the beginning of his latest book: “All of us are creatures of a day; the rememberer and the remembered alike. All is ephemeral – both memory and the object of memory. The time is at hand when you will have forgotten everything; and the time is at hand when all will have forgotten you. Always reflect that soon you will be no one, and nowhere.” Creatures of a Day is a collection of 10 stories based on his patients’ experiences with loss and illness, and their – and Yalom’s – efforts to live a life of both meaning and pleasure.

Be present as possible

On Rosh Hashana we will be inscribed and on Yom Kippur we will be sealed, who will live and who will die, who by fire and who by water. It’s a jarring incantation. Religious or not, however, this time of year – with fall approaching, a new school year starting – is a time for introspection and account-taking that extends to the very essence of our mortality.

Unless we are consciously faced with it, it is rare for people in our society to think deeply about our own deaths. (For an interesting reflection on the topic, see page 46.) But we would do well to keep the transience of life closer to front of mind throughout the year – not to be needlessly grim or to dwell on the negative, but because it is life’s finite nature that affords its value. Like anything that is limitless, life would lose some of its value if it were unending.

Time is central to Judaism. We mark the coming and the going of the day, the arrival of Shabbat and the return to the week, the numerous times in the calendar that call our attention to the seasons, our history, biblical events, the new year.

Time is likewise central to our existence. Our lives have a beginning and an end; what happens in the middle is what we make it, given the resources we are born into or develop. We do not know when we will die nor what happens to us afterward. We know, though, what happens when others die. We grieve our loss.

We lament and experience stages of pain and eventual relative acceptance.

At this time of year, as we gather with families and in our congregations and communities, there are countless obligations placed upon us. Our tradition tells us that we accept these obligations willingly and with openness. Our tshuva may be painful or involve humbling ourselves to make amends with those we have harmed, but we do this to improve ourselves, our relationships and our world.

In some interpretations, this is when our personal fate will be determined. But our attention naturally turns also to those around us. Who will be at the table this Rosh Hashana and not next? Whose presence do we miss even more keenly at this time of year than on an average day?

We are reminded now not to take for granted any of those we love. This is something we should certainly commit to carrying with us throughout the year. The presence of loving family and friends is a joy that we can easily forget to appreciate and we must remember to value these moments.

We should also be reminded of the presence of loved ones in a different, more ordinary sense. Perhaps there has never been a society more distracted than our own. The most obvious distraction is our digital devices, which can remove us from the presence of those we love even as we sit across from them at a table. Other distractions have been around longer – worries about work or some other aspect of our lives; obsessions and addictions; the myriad things that can take us away from what is truly most important in our lives.

As we mark the High Holidays and the start of a new year, let us be thankful for the presence of those around us, and let us try to be as present as possible in return.

Breathe in and breathe out

Life in its individual expression is finite. Nearly all of us accept that. Living things reproduce themselves, so life goes on in that way. But, for the individual, life begins and, after a time, it comes to an end. An important thing is that, for most of us, we do not know when this ending will come. It is indeterminate.

Because the end time is unknown, we have the illusion, in the immediate, that life will just go on, is just going on. We are alive, we are full of plans, we are the centrepiece of the circle we have built around ourselves; it seems like it will go on forever. Certainly, in our younger years, the question of an ending hardly ever arises in our minds. Our lifetime stretches out before us into the dimly perceived future.

Am I discussing a question of universal import, or am I obsessed with my personal condition? Yoohoo! Do I still have you with me?

Even for those of us who are older, particularly those of us who are active, seemingly in good health, our lifetime also appears to be elastic. The events inhabiting our lifetime fill our consciousness. But we are aware of statistics. We see that our ranks are thinning. Some, even many, of those contemporary companions with whom we began our journey are missing at roll call. These realities do give us pause. How many more beautiful sunrises, how many more flaming sunsets will we witness? The languorous minutes of an afternoon with friends in inviting surroundings, imbibing all the consumables that yield to us their potential for pleasure, absent the pain to which all flesh is heir, how many more times will those unique experiences be ours?

I am exhilarated by being a part of the essential life event, the experience of being a living, breathing, feeling being. I know not if we are the sole sentient creatures in this universe, but I am grateful that it has fallen into my fortunate lifetime to experience this place and this time. How many of you out there must feel the same? None of us is guaranteed a life solely made up of music and roses. The inverse is true for great masses of humanity. But each of us, in some small measure, finds those moments of existence, those instants when we bless the stars that we are present, that we are here. It is inherent in being alive, in the human life experience. We really know only the present. Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow is speculation. I tell myself to ignore the extraneous. Breathe in and out; find those elements in our current experience that give us enjoyment in this instant of being alive.

Today, here in Vancouver, harvest time continues for tender fruits of all kinds. Sumptuous fruit, which for most of the year command a king’s ransom for purchase, is still being offered in the grocery outlets for a mere bagatelle. Earlier in the summer, mounds of red, ripe strawberries were being displayed in our markets in the form of architectural wonders, tempting us to reach out and bring those fruity edifices crashing down as we indulge the urge to taste. They were there, stressing the most disciplined. Blueberries, which, for most of the year, are retailed by the ounce, have been urged on us by the pound. Peaches, nectarines and melons of all kind compete for our attention on the groaning boards. We are overwhelmed with nature’s bounty, what is here and what is yet to be on offer, as the season progresses. These are just the ordinary things of the seasonal round, but they are a soft whisper of the simpler pleasures lavished on those of us who are alive.

Consumables are just an asterisk, a footnote, compared with the joys of human companionship. Were we blessed with tasks in life that stretched our potential, labor that was worthwhile? Did we find a person in our lives with whom we dared to show our essential vulnerability? A parent, a sibling, a friend, a teacher, a lover, a creature, with whom we found a basis for growth that might lead to healthy adulthood, with whom we distilled a shared experience we will remember unto death? Did we find a place and people where we felt that sense of peace, identification and commitment that determined the paths we would follow during the rest of our lives? Do the beauties of the natural world we inhabit bring home to us how tiny an element we are in the cycle of life of which we are a part? Have you looked up at the stars lately, preferably in a place where they are not blotted out by our man-made illumination, and understood just where man stands in the greater scheme of things?

We may be infinitesimal in our universe, less than the insects beneath our feet in the world man is astride like a colossus, but our tiny lives are full of meaning for us in the sheltered universe we seek to construct around ourselves. How central to us are our individual lifetimes. For most of us, our consciousness is concerned primarily with little else. How could it be otherwise? We mirror the behaviors of all the living species on our planet, seeking to ensure our survival and enhance our lifestyles. It is written in our DNA.

For some, the vision is a little broader, but even for them, the object is the enhancement of our lives in the broadest sense.

Let us toast the now of our lifetimes! To life!

Max Roytenberg is a poet, writer and blogger. An octegenarian, originally from Winnipeg, he is newly returned to Canada from Ireland and enjoying Vancouver with his bride.