mussar

Cutting grass with scissors

Nine years ago, I was walking with my twins, then age 6, to synagogue, when we passed an older woman in her yard, using scissors to cut the grass along the boulevard. At that moment, herding Grade 1 kids along, it felt hard to imagine why anyone would do this. It became a discussion topic. Why was this lady using scissors to do this? Was this a sign she wasn’t feeling well (in “kid” talk, aka mental illness)? Did we have to do something to help? We passed this person and her lawn several times on Saturday mornings that summer.

Recently, I, too, was using scissors to cut the lawn. I wanted to plant some runner beans along our chain link fence. Cutting the longer grass thatch away from this small space before planting was hard to do with our manual reel lawn mower, but the scissors made quick work of the problem. Within moments, I’d cleared away a strip of two to three inches on each side of the fence. With a satisfyingly large pile of thatch and grass for the yard waste, I was ready to start planting.

This morning, during a heat wave, I was using our mower, which is powered only by human efforts, no gas, no electricity, just a quiet whirr as it works. It struck me that people would look at me the way we looked at the neighbour cutting grass with her scissors. We choose a more environmentally friendly, retro, way to mow. Yes, it’s slower and more work. Yet, cutting the lawn is remarkably Zen. It’s an exercise in meditation, even when it’s hot out.

Modern spirituality often uses words like Zen, flow, meditation, spiritually alive and “finding deeper meaning” to help us access these experiences. These buzz words are supposed to differentiate spirituality from religion. As is, “I’m not religious or observant, but I’m spiritual.” Still, there’s nothing new about the concepts behind these terms. Our ancestors also worked to find flow or a Zen state of “being nothing” (a Buddhist/East Asian concept) in their lives.

I pondered this while attending an after-Kiddush lunch learning session on Shabbat. The speaker, a therapist, introduced the notion of mussar to the crowd with words like “journey” and “spiritual growth.” He spoke for 45 minutes. I wished I’d gone home to nap. The speaker, recently trained to discuss this Jewish concept, quoted a saying of the Kotzker Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Kotzk (1787-1859), but didn’t even give his name.

To summarize the core concepts of mussar to a friend later, here’s what I knew before the talk:

Mussar was invented in the 19th century in Lithuania based, in part, on medieval Jewish texts. It focuses on moral conduct and positive character building from a Jewish perspective via specific values such as humility and gratitude. Practitioners explore these values via self-reflection, meditation, pair and group dialogue. This growth is intended to be an ongoing self-improvement effort to draw the individual soul towards the Divine.

Aside from concluding that I may not be destined for these 45 minute after-lunch sessions, I also summed this up in four sentences without using any buzz words to express it. There’s nothing wrong with learning mussar. It’s an approximately 170-year-old form of modern group and individual self-betterment and therapy, through a Jewish lens. This presentation offered it in 21st-century lingo.

Summer is a great time for celebrations, but it’s also a time to embrace the meditative moments of just being, like hearing the water hit the shore at the ocean, swinging in a hammock, laying in the grass watching clouds, digging in the dirt or pushing the mower back and forth in straight rows. Some of my most transcendent Jewish prayer experiences have happened at Jewish summer camp, outside, singing in harmony while overlooking the lake. The sunshine and the bugs and birds singing – it’s all a chance to slow down and enjoy amazing moments of wonder and observation in the natural world. It’s a moment to express gratitude for the divine creation we get to experience.

I, for one, feel wrought up over wars, constant misinformation, concern about relatives and friends in Israel, and in need of more calm. Closer to home, the recent data about the rise in Canadian antisemitic incidents can put a Jewish person’s nervous system in high alert. It’s legitimate to feel anxiety. Still, that’s not healthy all the time.

For many, big gatherings in the sunshine are not what helps us relax. It’s the quiet state that comes from “being nothingness,” according to the Buddhists, our own Jewish traditions and from being alone outdoors and celebrating G-d’s creation.

Maintaining wonder comes in different forms for all of us. It’s OK to find that flow state, or, as Rabbi Sari Laufer expressed it in a recent Torah commentary about the parsha (portion) Naso: “Flow is the mental state where we are deeply immersed, focused and energized – so much so that time disappears. We forget to eat and sleep. Flow is a peak experience of purpose, creativity and connection. Crucially, flow is not meant to be permanent. We are designed to move in and out of it. A person living perpetually in flow would burn out, would find it utterly unsustainable.”

Settling down our nervous systems, escaping that adrenalin-fueled anxiety, is essential to maintaining balance during difficult times. One way to do that is through flow-state activities, whether grounded in mussar, daily routines, knitting or attending minyan. It’s sometimes found in a long walk to shul. Still others find it by trimming the grass by hand, a few blades at a time, with scissors. I think back on that woman, sitting on the ground, rapt with concentration, and marvel. In the Babylonian Talmud, in the Tractate of Berachot, on page 62a, the rabbis recount stories of students following their mentors to the bathroom and even the bedroom. Why? Everyday activities can be holy and essential to our wellbeing. Like cutting blades of grass, staring at the clouds, or finding one’s flow state – this is also Torah.

Joanne Seiff has written regularly for the Winnipeg Free Press and various Jewish publications. She is the author of three books, including From the Outside In: Jewish Post Columns 2015-2016, a collection of essays available for digital download or as a paperback from Amazon. Check her out on Instagram @yrnspinner or at joanneseiff.blogspot.com.

A new year, a new you?

If we want to improve our character traits, we need look no further than the latest issue we have in relationships. Do we get angry easily? Or impatient? (photo of universe.roboflow.com)

The Jewish New Year, 5786, is upon us. How can we be better? Life is always giving us opportunities to learn and to grow, and I believe one of the secrets to life-long learning about how to improve ourselves is to “be aware.”

Self-awareness or being mindful is a habit that is nurtured and practised every day. However, it isn’t about sitting quietly when we meditate, although certainly that is one of the ways we train our mind to observe and to be aware. Self-awareness is a process where we listen to our inner voice as well as listening to messages (whether we like them or not) from friends and family.

Paying attention to our reactions when we see someone who is less fortunate is a good place to start to look at our behaviours and character traits. Are you called to be generous or judgmental? Do you react with humility or arrogance when someone cuts in front of you when you are in line at the grocery store? Are you proud of how you respond, or do you think you could do better? Feelings of being unsettled when we leave a conversation may be a hint there is work to do on our inner self.

Awareness starts by watching our day-to-day actions and decisions, especially those where we find ourselves out of sync with friends, family and/or our “Higher Self.” Even those of us who may not have a direct or active connection to a Higher Self are connected to something – we all have a soul. According to the Torah (Genesis 1:27), we are made in the “image of G-d,” and thus we have the capacity to create relationships, show kindness and make the world a better place through being charitable.

If we want to improve our character traits, where do we look? Alan Morinis, author of Everyday Holiness: The Jewish Spiritual Path of Mussar and the forthcoming book The Shabbat Effect, says we need look no further than the latest issue we have in relationships. Do we get angry easily? Or impatient? How is your generosity muscle working? These are character traits that, when out of balance, may be on the spiritual curriculum we have to work on in our lives.

Mussar teaches us to balance our character traits, not eliminate them. If patience (savlanut) is on your spiritual curriculum, the challenge is to watch for opportunities where you can practise “bearing the burden.” Once you identify a trait you want to work on, lo and behold, there are opportunities everywhere to do so.

A new year is an opportunity to take stock of how we are in this world, and how we can be better. It is also a time to be grateful for all our blessings. Sometimes our blessings may not be wrapped in a silver bow, the silver lining yet to be found. There is the concept of win/win – similarly, if one person loses, so too does the other person.

Use this time of year to make a list of where you might improve your everyday interactions, remind yourself of what you are grateful for. Take a moment to journal how you want to improve. Being a kind and generous friend only makes the world a better place. G-d knows we could all use more kindness.

Shelley Karrel is a registered clinical counselor in British Columbia and can be reached at [email protected].

BI scholar-in-residence

Rabbi Eliezer Diamond (photo from jtsa.edu)

“I am particularly interested in the way that Torah can help us look inward. Each of the topics is about religious character formation, various ways in which we create a more godly character and personality,” said Rabbi Eliezer Diamond in a Zoom conversation with the Jewish Independent ahead of his visit to Vancouver next month.

Congregation Beth Israel will be hosting Diamond as its scholar-in-residence for three in-person talks under the collective title Making a Life of Meaning. A professor of Talmud and rabbinics at the Jewish Theological Seminary of America, in New York, Diamond will speak on Addiction and Judaism (April 28, 7:30 p.m.), the Power of Gratitude (April 29, 6 p.m., with a dinner to follow) and Seeking and Granting Forgiveness (April 30, 9:30 a.m.).

In regard to addiction, the rabbi compares the 12-step process of Alcoholics Anonymous with the laws of repentance by Maimonides and notes the parallel paths taken towards sobriety and repentance: acknowledgement, regret and acceptance.

“Not drinking and being sober are not the same thing. To recover from alcoholism, one has to change one’s way of living and thinking,” said Diamond, who discusses addiction from both a personal and professional perspective.

“I am a recovering alcoholic and I know about addiction from the inside,” he said. “Even though I am not a therapist or addiction counselor, what I can do is help people to be honest with themselves and say ‘I have a problem,’ which is an acknowledgement of the sin and a step towards repentance. It is important to help people see where they are at so that they can begin to make changes.”

It is also helpful, he added, for his rabbinical students to know that their teacher is a recovering alcoholic because there is frequently a shame involved in addiction and a sense that one is a diminished person as a result.

“I am there to say to them, those may be the cards one has been dealt. You can still be a productive human being and, if you take the steps you need to take to deal with addiction, there is no reason for shame. On the contrary, there is a reason for pride. You have been faced with a challenge and you have addressed it,” he said.

Diamond pointed out that, in a broad sense, there has been an acknowledgement in the past couple of decades within the Jewish community that Jews, like everyone else, have problems with addiction.

“We are not immune to addiction, as people think or would like to think,” he said. “In my own lifetime, the community has become more open. The founding of Jewish Addiction Community Services [JACS] is an example of that.”

In addition to Congregation Beth Israel, Diamond’s talks in Vancouver are being sponsored by JACS Vancouver, Jewish Family Services Vancouver and Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver.

Diamond’s discussion on gratitude is tied to the teachings of Rabbi Eliyahu Eliezer Dessler, an early 20th-century leader in the mussar (Jewish ethics or values) movement, who saw giving as being at the heart of the religious personality. In Dessler’s teachings, God, by providing life, is the ultimate giver. Therefore, to follow in God’s path, we must be givers ourselves. There are times, however, when we must also be receivers, and the best way to receive is through gratitude, Diamond explained.

Expanding on the theme of gratitude, Diamond added, “Ultimately, whether or not we experience ourselves as wealthy or poor is intimately connected to finding happiness and satisfaction with what we have. If we focus on what we have and the happiness that it can bring us, then we can feel wealthy. This is a choice that all of us, especially in a first-world situation, have.”

On forgiveness, the rabbi cited Christian theologian C.S. Lewis, who spoke of the human desire to seek forgiveness yet the difficulty humans have in granting it.

“Forgiving is a hard thing to do,” said Diamond. “What does it actually mean to forgive someone? Because, unless we lobotomize ourselves, we are not going to forget what happened. The essence of what I will be talking about is the relationship between forgiveness and recognizing the essential humanity of every human being, including those who have wronged us.”

What often stands in the way of forgiveness, he said, is the inability to view another person as anything other than evil, and not as a flawed individual who has stumbled, as we all stumble. The path towards forgiveness, according to Diamond, is to make that distinction.

Amid social and political divisiveness, which causes rifts in families and communities, Diamond further emphasized the importance of being able to listen to and appreciate the inherent humanity and sincerity in belief of those with whom we may strongly disagree.

“Rabbi Diamond is one of most well-respected scholars in the Conservative movement today,” said Beth Israel’s Rabbi Jonathan Infeld. “He is exceedingly bright, knowledgeable and eloquent. He is also passionate about the human value of gratitude and the importance of recovery. Considering the fact that drug and alcohol addictions and overdoses have been less spoken about during the pandemic, we knew that Rabbi Diamond should be our first in-person scholar-in-residence since the beginning of COVID-19. We are so happy that other community agencies are joining us. We look forward to welcoming Rabbi Diamond to Vancouver and learning from this incredible rabbi.”

To register for the April 29 dinner, visit bethisrael.ca.

Sam Margolis has written for the Globe and Mail, the National Post, UPI and MSNBC.

Mussar & tikkun olam

Dr. Rachael Turkienicz (photo from Kolot Mayim)

At a Jan. 3 Zoom lecture organized by Kolot Mayim Reform Temple in Victoria, Dr. Rachael Turkienicz spoke about mussar (Jewish ethics), tikkun olam (repairing the world) and whether there is a commandment to build bridges.

Turkienicz, founder and director of the Toronto-based Rachael’s Centre of Torah, Mussar and Ethics, began at the beginning, explaining why the Torah starts with creation and not with the patriarchs and matriarchs or the first commandment in Exodus.

“We start with Genesis because it is the ‘common’ that all human beings will have, and so Judaism will begin with what we all have in common,” she said. “No person can ever say to another person, ‘My father is greater than your father.’ And Father in this instance can be capitalized. One person creates the great equalizer. We should never fight with one another over this.”

She then showed how tikkun olam follows from creation, and raised the questions, When did the world break and how did it break? As man is finite and God is infinite, cracks will occur in the process of creation, and it is up to humanity to repair them, according to Turkienicz.

How do we repair? Through free will, she explained. “Free will is the most powerful thing next to God. It is so powerful that I can use my free will to deny God.”

The problem, however, is that “nowhere do we have a program that teaches us what free will is and how to use it,” she said.

In the course of daily routines, free will can take a less prominent role in our thinking, as many of us coast along “on automatic,” i.e., we function without making choices. As a result, nothing is being repaired and the world is continuing as it always does, she explained.

One example of being on automatic is when someone poses the question to an acquaintance passing by: “How are you?” The response is frequently: “I’m OK.” Neither the person asking nor the respondent delves deeply into the subject before moving on.

Being able to use free will is further compounded by the number of choices we have in an open society. Citing academic studies, Turkienicz contended that having a vast array of options available can actually hinder our ability to make use of the power of free will.

Enter mussar, a spiritual practice founded on offering a solid framework on living an ethical life. Mussar differs from kabbalah (Jewish mysticism). Whereas kabbalah is knowledge one receives, mussar moves from a person into the world, said Turkienicz.

Mussar stems from the concept that it is all well and good to know the commandments and recite Torah. However, such knowledge in itself does not make someone a mensch. “Mussar is learning to use my free will to repair the world. The commandments are the utensils, the goal is tikkun olam,” Turkienicz explained.

While mussar has been around for more than a millennium, it expanded in the 19th century to communities throughout Eastern Europe. Before the war, it was studied at the top continental yeshivot, but nearly all the leading exponents of mussar were murdered in the Holocaust. Recently, though, there has been a resurgence of the practice in both Orthodox and more liberal branches of Judaism.

Turkienicz compared mussar with other ethical philosophies, using the scenario of a person seated on a bus when an elderly person boards. Most of us are taught that we should give up our seat in such a situation. But what if the elderly person declines the offer? Ethics would say to sit back down, whereas mussar suggests that one should stay standing, because the issue is not about the elderly person but rather one’s own free will.

“Inside of me something said it is not appropriate for me to sit while an older person remains standing. Whether the elderly person sits down or not changes nothing,” she argued.

According to mussar, we are in control of the personal ingredients that comprise us, be they spirituality or patience. We all have the same ingredients, only the measurements are different, said Turkienicz. A person who does not see himself as spiritual still has a degree of spirituality. Likewise, someone who deems herself impatient has an allocation of patience within her. Our free will distributes the measurements.

“My free will chooses what is my perspective and where will I focus,” Turkienicz said.

As to whether there is a commandment to build bridges, she quoted Israel Salanter, a 19th-century rabbi and founder of the modern mussar movement, who said, “A good Jew is not one who worries about his fellow man’s soul and his own stomach, but about his fellow man’s stomach and his own soul.”

Turkienicz concluded that, while there is no commandment to build bridges, “everything else shows us we should do so, because, if we choose not to, we have lived where that leads us, and we don’t want to go there.”

To view the presentation in full, go to kolotmayimreformtemple.com and search “lectures.” Turkienicz’s talk was part of the synagogue’s Building Bridges series, the next instalment of which takes place March 7, featuring University of Calgary art professor Jennifer Eiserman on Canadian Jewish art. Click here for more information.

Sam Margolis has written for the Globe and Mail, the National Post, UPI and MSNBC.