“G-d speaks in different ways, and we don’t always recognize his voice. Sometimes in the night, he uses terrifying dreams, to give us warning. G-d does this to make us turn from sin and pride and protect us from being swept away to the world of the dead.” – Job 33:14-18, CEV
One seemingly unbearable consequence of isolation is its potential to reveal hidden truths about oneself. Thus, on the eve of my tenth day of quarantine for Covid, last November, I entered a state of “existential dread.” I was faced with all of the unpleasant things about myself that would surface on occasion in my life, and then submerge below my conscious awareness again.
There was no respite, until a divine intervention brought about relief around 3:00 a.m. that morning. Yet, the issue at a hand was not the stark realities that each of those unresolved issues portended; rather, what those concerns pointed toward, namely, a feeling of meaningless in my life, despite my faith, that almost always serves as a buttress between a positive outlook and encroaching negativity.
It was as if a sense of meaningless permeated my entire being, while consolation in my religious belief and practice seemed to be in limbo at that time. Within the framework of existential psychology, “meaninglessness” is one of the four universal issues that people face in their lives to a greater or lesser degree. Yet, as I mentioned, meaninglessness is usually buffered by my faith.
I believe that meaning and purpose in life is derived from the Biblical creation narrative, regarding the dual role of mankind in regard to Gan Eden, “to work it and guard it.” Upon a closer reading of the original Hebrew, the injunction may be rendered as “to serve and to observe;” in other words, to serve G-d, and observe His commandments.
To this day, I still accept this injunction as axiomatic to my faith, as well as a universal given, noting the authority of the Bible. This has always been enough for me, ever since I became observant, within the context of my belief and practice: yet, an individual purpose in life, one that is uniquely my own, must be drawn out from this dual raison d’etre. Perhaps, the sum total of everyday tasks that constitute its fulfillment is not enough to substantiate that reason. There must be a more in-depth inculcation of this reason for being.
The issue hand, revealed to me by the emptiness of that night was the following: gnawing questions of my life in comparison to others, whose lives are successful by modern or worldly standards, stood out in stark relief, against my own, even though I had always dismissed the comparisons. Yet, this time I could not deny how I felt – bereft of a trajectory.
Even so, my sense of relief arrived before dawn, when I was shown that correspondence with others about these issues would somehow bring me renewal. At that point, a wave of peace swept over me. Now, it is up to me to set aside the rumination of these concerns, and simply follow the prescriptive remedy given to me from a divine source.
Breathing Room 