Me a Rabbi? Awkward, good moments.

Of course there were plenty of awkward moments and there were some pleasurable moments, moments that allow me to look back and feel like I had accomplished something.There was some kind of purpose to it all. I must admit, I was motivated. I liked kids and I had remembered how difficult it had been to study and I did want to make it easier for them. I read any books I could get my hands on. I created a goal system where the kids set their own goals and congratulated themselves when they had accomplished their goal. This felt like a lot of fun. They seemed to like it and of course it made me happy to see them happy. I must admit that Avi was a great support at motivating me to teach. Sometimes I was so depressed and scared. I had failed to miserably the week before that I just didn't want to go in there the next week. I couldn't believe that I would actually have to. At the same time there were some memorably pleasant moments. Ariel, who I had been warned about, was a difficult student to get through to. I was told to never give him any kind of negative note home because he would be beaten. He never if rarely looked at me and it was difficult to know if and when he heard what I was saying. I had decided that I would begin implementing the self-goal program. Until then, I would tell them which piece of Talmud we would be studying that day and we would. Today, was different. I told them to choose their own goal of what and how many lines they should study and then we would go ahead and study them. "What" they all seemed to say incredulously, "what do you mean, we decide?" they asked. "We don't want to study anything!". Yes, yes, I told them, I understand. It took a while to explain to them that although I was intent on studying something. I was giving them a choice as to how much they would study or how they wanted to master it. ( Meaning what kind of method did they want to use to master it? How many times did they want to repete these lines of Talmud? What kind of goal did they want to make for themselves?). Ariel was a student who had been particularly difficult to reign in. Besides, his lack of attention, and his lack of being able to look at me, he just seemed pretty uninterested. Faced with the prospect of making his own decisions about what he would learn and how, he seemed a little uncomfortable and a little excited. He was obviously not given too many choices at home and he seemed to enjoy the freedom and the trust I put in him.It took a while of explaining until I got him to understand what it meant to make his own goal but he finally got the idea. I had a feeling that it was good for him. I must say that what happened next was something I can never forget. It was strange, surprising, heartrending and encouraging.Once he was clear on what he had to do, he started focusing on it. He seemed to exult in havinag a small goal that he knew he could accomplish. As he began enjoying his reading the Gemara, shukeling, swaying back and forth, a sighn of increasing involvement and enjoyment. At some point he was so happy, he looked up at me and he said 'Rabbi, I think I'm going to be a yeshiva bachur". He was smiling so big, I had never seen him smile that big. He had hope. He had seen himself in a new light. He was a champion. I had given him a new image of himself. He now felt that he could accomplish. He seemed to be relishing that feeling of accomplishment. This was a truly great moment for me. This had been a deeply personal work for me. It had taken me time until I had been able to make small and manageable goals for myself. I was relieved that I had finally found a way to feel proud of myself and now, of course, I felt such exhilarating joy in being able to pass on a similar feeling of accomplishement to my young friend, my student. Of course, this moment of triumph was mixed with some ambivalence and pain. I had taught him how to feel satisfied with the study of Talmud but I myself was carrying a secret burden of hatred for the Talmud. Inside I was angry that I had put myself in a position of teaching kids Talmud. No, I didn't really think it was so important for them. I didn't feel like I was teaching them something deep and meaningful. It was a little strange for me to hear my student tell me how excited he was that he would some day be a yeshiva bachur when I was trying my hardest to erase the memories of my days in yeshiva. So, I justified it all by saying that I had taught him a lesson about goal setting, self esteem and focus. I tried not to think about the fact that I was inspiring him to lead a life that I could not say I was proud of. Yes, then there was the other feeling. I had some deeply pleasurable memories from my days in yehiva. I didn't understand what happened to them and why my life needed to take such a different turn but I knew that there was a distance between me today and who I was then. Yes, maybe, he would find joy in that life. Maybe it was OK for him. Maybe it was good.

Me a Rabbi? 2

The year, I must say was a tormenting one. There was a huge distance between the adult I was pretending to be and the child I had wanted to be and really, needed to be. I had a beard and glasses. I wore a suit and tie. I was always cordial and respectful. I did my job well even if I had no idea what I was doing. I was in order even if my insides were caving in. I pretended even if my soul was crying and dying. I ate a lot of nosh to hide the pain and the fear of being a child in an adult world and that was what I had to pay to hide from who I was. I saw many beautiful girls and women who had their life together. They taught around the school and I was so tempted to get to know them and have some fun. No fun for me. I was a Rabbi, I couldn't afford to have some kind of scandal. No, I had to behave myself. I taught these kids Talmud. It so happened to be that the Tractate of Talmud that the school chose for us to teach was highly impractical to teach to middle school kids. It was abstract, linguistic oriented and hard to relate to. This made me even more upset at my ironic position. I had hated this kind of study and now I was forced to put kids in the very position that I resented being put in myself. I had kids who were ahead of their age in their thinking and aspirations. How, inside, I had wished that I could be their friend. I wished that I could play with them. That's all I wanted to do was play. One of my students would skateboard to school. I wished I could do that too. They were into all kinds of computer gadgets and I wished I could explore too. Here I was forcing them to study Talmud while wanting to be in their shoes. All they wanted to so was have fun and all I wanted to do was have fun. Why were we sitting here forcing each other to do what we didn't want to do? Every morning I would trade spots with the hot second grade teacher. I felt so out of place leading a prayer service for her second graders, when all I wanted to do was hump her on the desk. Am I crazy? All I wanted was balance. I wondered why I was this way. Something felt off. Is this the way everyone feels? I just wanted to feel composed, calm and normal. I was pretty sure that something was way off. If it wasn't how could I feel so off, so far from sanity and composure?
How I wished that I could be an adult. I wished that I could just have a job and a life I could be proud of. I hoped that I would be a person. I need help, I thought, I just didn't know what kind and in my position, I was just upset, I didn't think much about what I needed to do. As I sat with the other real Rabbi's at lunch, I felt like I was sitting with seven uncles or fathers. I tried to pretend that I wasn't scared and that I was as secure as they were in their position but all I could feel was fear and irony. How is this happening to me? I don't really believe in what I'm teaching, I am just a child, just a wild rebellious child trapped in a crazy job with a fancy suit.
All I knew was that I better keep my mouth shut. All I knew is that I would have to do the best I could at keeping this fake and painful life together until the end of the year. Yes, I met with parents, I discussed their children's problems. I pretended that all was OK with me. I had problems that were much bigger than that of their children. In many cases I encountered parents who were helping their children in quite extraordinary ways. Inside I wished that my parents could have given me that kind of help. I was a good teacher. I cared for my students and worked hard on my lessons. It wasn't the children I disliked, it was the lying, the hiding, and living a life that was far more mature than the one I was actually prepared to live. I needed to play in the sand. I needed to figure out why I was so angry. I needed the space and safety to examine what I truly believed and felt about all the things I was taught. Did I really believe in God? Did I care if I believed or not? who am I ? What do I stand for? If there is not God, is there anything important for me to do here? How do I get a girl? Why is it that others do and I don't?
What would it take to live a life that I was proud of? Why was everything so upside down? Why can't I just be happy? Can I? Is there a way?

Me a Rabbi?

Life was only about to get even stranger. All I wanted was for things to make sense. Nothing else made any difference. I was tired of being so childish, insecure and scared. I needed to have everything together. I must say, I was brave and I was motivated. I wanted a girl. I wanted to be a man. I wanted to be proud of myself. I had spent this past year reading motivational books. I had been reading about goals and about asking. I realized that I must decide what I want and go for it. I had also read about marketing, leverage and using ones talents. I decided that teaching was my greatest talent. I also realized that I was so scared of facing those kids, it was terrifying. I sensed that, it could take me many years to get myself into the classroom and comfortable teaching. I imagined that if I cut out all those years of waiting and went straight for my goal, that would get me to where I was going in the quickest way possible. Looking back, I was lacking so much knowledge in what it took to be an adult and train, prepare and take ones profession seriously. It was more like I was trying to escape thinking about what was going on inside and who I was. I wanted to have things perfect already so that I could be an adult and get what I want without facing the pain and the questions that would make me encounter the many ages of growth that I had skipped. I didn't want to think about questions and lack of knowing, I wanted all to be known, clear and settled.

Someone I had known for a while who had now become a Principal of a school her in LA. I asked him if I could meet with him. I knew how to talk and I knew how to dress and he told me that he would give me a job. I was going to teach Hebrew and Talmud. In my mind, I was hoping that teaching in a Modern Orthodox Jewish Day School would be an innocuous position. I imagined that perhaps I would still be able to live at least part of the newly liberated life I had been looking forward to living out in California. This was all a great delusion. As soon as I knew I was teaching I went right back into the mode that I was trying to escape. Now I knew that everyone in the community knew that I would be teaching in so and so school. It was an orthodox school!! I could be a shagetz, I couldn't be free. I couldn't hang out with girls which was an important hope in my vision of coming to California. Now I had to be a respectable part of society. I had a job, I had a purpose, and I stood for a certain standard of morals. How did I do this to myself?
Now I was under scrutiny. Some of the members of my community, had their children in the school I was teaching in. Although, it could be that the more lenient standard of their own observance would cut me a little slack, my internal freedom was over. I was so angry. All I wanted was to be free. I just want to be my own man. I want to think on my own and act on my own. It seems like it should be so simple. How could I possibly live without that and how am I doing things that trap me under the scrutiny and judgment of other people?

To make matters worse, on the day before school was about to begin, my friend, the principal asked me if I had smicha, meaning, could I be called Rabbi, I said no. "I'm giving you Semicha" he said half jokingly. What he meant was that for this year, I would be called Rabbi. I felt anger surge up inside me. I felt the compelling urge to stop him in his tracks and say that I could not take the job if being called Rabbi was one of the qualifications. I just didn't have the strength. I didn't want to risk my job. I held my tongue. I was so angry. I felt like I had just sealed the fate of my death. Now, I had just rebelled against the things I held most dear. I hated Rabbi's, I hated being a Jew, I hated the burden and the responsibility. I had done all in my power to seek freedom, options and the space to listen to who I am and now, I had just robbed myself of all that I had worked for. I had lied, I had stolen from myself. No, the door was shut now. This year would not be a year when I could express myself. I needed to hide my true questions, my doubts and my skepticism. I would need to pretend that I was another orthodox Jew like the rest. I believed, yes of course, I believed in all the fundamentals. How could I be a Hebrew and Talmud teacher without believing? How could I be a "Rabbi"without believing? No, of course, I was a believer. I was certain. I was certain that I had just sealed my coffin. I had sealed my lips. I had sealed my heart from feeling. Now I was in prison. Funny, I had always known this feeling of being in prison and now I was back.

Holy Hippie

So I decided to explore. I was enthralled by the beach and the board walk, pretty women and beautiful art. Can I ask for more. I felt so lucky. I needed this so badly. This was the perfect break from my tumultuous life. I found a hippy on the beach. Long dread locks and a long beard. I had never seen someone like this. He was playing the guitar and I decided to engage him. Something about him was intriguing. I stood near him and after a while we began talking. After we were talking for a bit, he looks at me and says, "I sense that we are family" . I was taken aback. I wasn't quite sure what he meant. "Are you Jewish? He asked me". I was shocked. I purposely didn't wear any head covering and definitely didn't want to be identified as a Jew. I had wanted to start all over again with nothing to do with my past. "Yes" I told him. I couldn't lie. He said his name was Rafael Yakov and he was from New Jersey. I was surprized , I had no idea that a Jew would look this way. In my naive mind, I thought all Jews were Yeshiva Bachurim. I was also disappointed. I had come out to Calfornia to spread my wings and test the waters. I wanted different people. I wanted to meet all people not only Jews and here I was talking to another Jew! In some way, I felt like God was telling me that I could run but I couldn't hide, that no matter where I went I would allways be associated with Jews and I hated that thought even more. I hated being a Jew and I hated the thought having a god that would make sure that I remained one.

Rafael and I talked for a while. As we sat on the boardwalk he asked me if I have ever heard of the song "and you shall love the Lord your God" by Debbie Friedman. I had never heard the song and I couldn't help but be in awe of the fact that I had run away from everything Jewish just to come here to Venice and have someone sing to me a Jewish song about loving God. Was there some kind of message in this or what? To me it was so ironic. I knew that it was impossible for me to love God. I had enough of him. So what kind of ironic purpose might there be in hearing a song about loving God? Of course I was doubly tortured by the fact that Rafael's singing made me keenly aware that it might be possible to love God and if that was the case, then my anger and disappointment were all a waste. If God, loves me, there was no purpose to be upset at him and if he loved me, why couldn't I feel it. How could be loved, if I feel so angry and anxious all the time. I had no way to resolve this problem. To me, I was sure that God was after me all the time to destroy my life and make it painful. How could other people feel love of God. What was wrong with this picture. Someone help me. If he hates me, at least now a I know why I feel so much pain, but since I didn't know, it was not only painful, it was also confusing.

Rafael, played the guitar really nicely, I needed a guitar, that was the answer. He told me he would sell me his for 20 dollars. I felt a little bad to buy his guitar because now he couldn't play it but he walked my back to my apartment and I gave him the money. Unfortunately, I had a very hard time making the guitar make a nice sound. He was so good that he was able to make a terrible guitar make a nice sound.

Meeting Josh

Now it was time to meet Josh. I felt so broken and unsure. I really didn't know how he felt about me. He did tell me I should come and he said he would help me, but I can't say that it took away from the awkwardness of feeling that I needed so much help. I felt like I had just been hit by a train and I was now flying through the air with my head spinning. I had no idea what was happening other than I was in a terrible mess. I had been around Venice for a couple of days and I knew that Josh would be in Shul on Shabbos. I decided to make my grand entrance then. I didn't know how I should present myself to the shul. I didn't want them to think I was religious. I wanted them to believe that I was not. I didn't want them to have any expectations of me. I wanted to be able to be a nobody. I wanted to be able to have sex with whomever I wanted and have noone criticize me. I was just a mess. I sat outside the Shul struggling with how to walk in. should I wear a yarmulka? Should I not wear any head covering? Should I wear a cap which I had with me? I felt like, whatever I showed them of whoever I am, during this first encounter, that would determine what they thought about me for all the time that I know them. I had to make this work. At the same time, the debate of the moment brought to my mind the profound lack of knowing that existed in me. I had not knowledge of who I was. It was empty. I had no information to refer to. None of my past aspirations or accomplishments could be used to determine the decisions of the next moment. My mind automatically referred back to my many years of Talmud study to help it with its decisions but all it found were piles of anger, fear, disappointment and confusion. No, nothing was left, as if it had all been burnt in a great fire. I made my entrance. I could feel all their eyes burning through my body like sharp razors. Soon they would want to know everything about me. Where was I from? Oh, please don't ask me anything. I don't know anything. It was so painful to be an adult and not be able to say anything about who I am other than I'm lost. I had nothing to show for myself. If only I could just be a silent explorer, someone who had been in the yeshiva world and now was peacefully exploring new options. I wasn't. I was angry and confused. I hated Jews, and I didn't' know why. I hated myself and I had no idea what I had done to end up this way. I had nothing to say for myself. I had so many questions, but my best impressions would probably be made if I said nothing at all.

Josh greeted me. He seemed to understand. He understood way more than I understood about how tired and worn I was.He is the kindest most understanding man alive and I was so lucky to have him as a friend. He really knew what I needed. He calmed my mind and soothed my spirit. He knew what I needed. He knew it would take a while to get me back to health and put me on my way.

Dr S. Wow! 2

I am forever fascinated by how one person can have such a profound effect on the other. Dr Sheldon and I got pretty close. I had a feeling that he could help me and I was happy that he cared. He started doing therapy on me in exchange for my help. He was moving to Israel and he wanted me to help him with the boxes. He had a way that he wanted the boxes taped shut and I must have done it wrong. He yelled at me. He was upset. I cried. I don't think I had cried like that in a long time. It hurt so much to be criticized by someone who's love I wanted. Yes, I was angry that I had been criticized but something in me registered that this criticism was different. He showed me how he wanted the boxes done and I started doing it the right way. I knew that I wanted his approval and that I didn't want him to yell at me, so I paid extra attention to do it the right way. An incredible shift began happening when I started doing it the right way. It was the first time in my life that I had the experience of doing something right, if I applied my mind to it. For many years, I imagined that I just couldn't do anything right. My mind was so anxious and flustered that it barely knew itself to be able to settle and do something well, so it didn't. Now, I had to. I had to focus, and I did! It felt so good. I realized that I could. I could focus and do it right. I have that in me. I am able to do something right! I do have the control. Since then, I have recalled this incident over and over again, in order to give myself the strength to focus on a project. It was a painful incident, but it did give me a refreshed idea about what I'm capable of doing.

Dr. S Wow!

One Shabbat, I wen to the shul of Rabbi H. Of course venice was full of many colorful people and although, I hated being in shul, I did look forward to meeting the people. Actually, I was looking for love. I had this hope that someone would love me and care for me. I needed a lot of help and I truly didn't know what I needed and how to help myself. I was quite distant from anything that was remotely related to feeling, life and reality. Dr. Sheldon, a psychologist saw me in shul and must have noticed how lost I was. He has a big heart and he invited me over for Shabbat lunch. We started getting to know each other. I remember feeling like a small child around him. It was like having a father. I knew that I was in bad shape but I was out of touch with how bad it was. I heard he was a psychologist. I was smart enough to know that to be a psychologist, it took a lot of training. I also knew that I wanted to be one. I was jealous. I wanted to be a Psychologist. I had no idea where to start. I had barely been to college. I also felt exhausted. I had recently completed an eight year ordeal in trying to conquer the world of talmud. I was tired and I didn't want to do anything else. I wanted to rest, I wanted to breath, I wanted to live. I needed a break. I didn't know exactly what I wanted a break from but I knew that I wanted a break. I also learned that he was a talented musician. This gave me an idea of how behind I was. Here was man who had an accomplished career as a psychologist and an accomplished career as a musician. I felt so empty. I felt an attraction for both of these professions. How would I ever get anywhere? Why do I have to start everything so late? I hated how behind I was in life, in doing anything constructive.