Sunday, July 27, 2008

The Postman

July 25

It’s hard for me to say that I’ve seen it all in my life, or even a lot. Heck, I’m a young 22 with limited experiences in what we call life. Sometimes it feels like I’ve done so much in some areas when in actuality I feel as though life is somewhat starting new every day. You never know what you might see, and that may be the most interesting and greatest thing about life.

Each morning, we say מודה אני, modeh ani, thanking G-d for a new day, another chance to live life to the fullest. Some days are good, others on the opposite side of the spectrum. In my short life, there have definitely been some of both. One of my worst days I can recall actually started off as one of my better as I returned from צעדה, tza’adah (a 5-day, 4-night camping trip), covered in mud and filled with joy, only to then learn a good friend of mine had committed suicide. Things in this world can change so fast, and I remember this day as a lesson to cherish what is there at the time.

One a brighter note, I can say that attending Superbowl 42 with my father was a day that, whenever recalled, brings an instant smile to my face. Almost never will I experience an isolated day like that where an immediate rush of emotions filled my body to the point where I felt like I was legitimately dreaming that I was there. It felt surreal. I hope everyone has days they can look back upon and say, “That day. That day will always be etched in my memory forever, and for good.” Well, thankfully, others have also followed suit for me.

I have a story I’ve told many times about a moment I had with my campers with special needs back in 2005. In a game of “Would you rather?” the children were asked randomly from a book, “Would you rather die and be re-born into somebody else’s body or live the same life over again?” Each of them answered the latter. This amazed me then and it amazes me now. It is too bad not all of us can appreciate our lives the way these children do. Unfortunately, in our society, many times the population labeled with “special needs” is told that they can’t do it. Period. They can’t read well. They can’t talk right. They can’t eat correctly. Well, simply said, society is wrong. Although they are told, “No,” without given a fair chance, some still have the confidence and determination to go for the gold. In this Tikvah (which means hope) program, they develop this confidence, and I saw the number one example of this last week.

The ropes course was gracious enough to invite the Ezra Staff for a morning of group building games and a possible chance to go on the high ropes. Throughout the group building stage, each activity required trust of the rest of the group. Before and during each one, the Ezra Staff members repeated phrases such as, “I can’t do this,” or, “This is too hard!” In the end they completed each task and had smiles from ear to ear, seeing that simple willpower can equal success – in anything.

After finishing the activities, it was time for the chance at the high ropes. Had I not done anything like this before (which for most of the Ezra Staff this was their first time), I would have been very afraid of going up into the air only attached by a rope and harness. The ropes course staff was great, saying, “Just even doing one step on the wall or one run on the pole is an accomplishment because it is the farthest you’ve ever gone.” Most did that and it was a genuine proud moment for everyone.

Then, Samantha Doner, an energetic yet sometimes timid young adult, stepped up to me and asked if she could try the “Postman,” a high ropes activity where one climbs up a pole about 30 feet high followed by walking along a tight rope and only having another rope to hold on to for support. I smiled and said, “Sure,” knowing that even asking was a sign of confidence. She got ready and prepared to climb. The magic was beginning.

One rung followed by another allowed Samantha to get higher and higher. She made it to the tight rope, already having gone higher than what most would expect, including yours truly. Yes, I feel guilty for not at first believing in her because I was not preaching what I believe. However, at that moment, I jumped on the bandwagon because it only mattered what one person believes at that time – and that was Samantha.

She began moving across the rope slowly but surely. Everyone (about 15 people in all) was cheering endlessly. Every time she would stop and ponder quitting, her friends’ encouragement pushed her determination even further so she would reach the end goal – the end of the rope. I tried cheering but I was so caught up in the moment all I could do was stand there with a smile and an open jaw.

Samantha did it. She finished. She did something almost nobody would have thought she could do when they woke up that morning. After thanking G-d that morning for reaching a new day filled with surprises, this was the most pleasant one of all. Pain was a big thing in Samantha’s mind at that time, but her ability to complete a task that seemed close to impossible gave her even more strength to smile and exclaim, “I did it!”

This goes to show that if you tell yourself you’re going to do something, your ability to complete any objective becomes increased. In the Israeli army is said as, “הכל בראש” – everything is in your head. Samantha showed to us this is true and it can almost always be this way. I will look back upon this and think how fortunate I was to witness such a motivating moment. She proved me and many others wrong. Our director, Elana Naftalin-Kelman, said before this happened to find the moments when it is clear that we do the job that we do for a reason. I believe this moment is self-explanatory.

Samantha did it. She didn’t let thoughts of failure get in the way of her journey to the finish line. Now, as the big day approaches, I must begin to see this determination she possessed on that morning so that I may too find abilities once thought of as impossible. Adidas® has a slogan saying, “Impossible is nothing.” Amen. The next stage of the journey is imminent and I am ready. Impossible. Is. Nothing.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Avoiding Twin Thieves

July 9

It is said sometimes that we as humans try to vicariously live our lives through other people. We begin to idolize a person or a cause and take so much ownership over how the person feels, acts, reacts, performs, and simply lives. In my life, I’m pretty sure my first experience of this was my Dad and my brother. Making sure I listened to the same music as my dad, played like my brother in sports, and made proud the family name were how I accomplished this. Of course, as time went on, it turned into athletes, counselors, and friends. I suppose I was always trying to acquire different attributes of those I admired most rather than focusing on my true self.

It’s much too hard to tell when I feel as though I started to take on my own image instead of taking on parts of others. I hope that I am myself more than others but that’s not for me to judge. It sounds simple and cliché to say “just be yourself.” But it’s so important to live like this because when a person is genuine, it creates an atmosphere that is just enjoyable to live in. Individuality is something that should be valued high; when it is not, and our focus shifts elsewhere, then we miss out on the goodness of one another.

However, even after preaching such values, I am guilty of the aforementioned vicarious thoughts. Last night, I caught my friends Mike Dolinka and Danny Fleischer via telephone prior to their trip to New York. This trip to the Big Apple was only a pit stop before their Aliyah would begin. As part of my Aliyah process, I actually had marked July 9 on my mental calendar as a big day. These two people are huge motivation factors in my decision because it’s comforting to know people so “similar” to me, people of the same relative age, life status, and nationality. Having a whole group, my Garin, is amazing; having two great friends in it before it all starts makes it even better.

Needless to say, time had zoomed by to the point where I couldn’t believe that their day was remotely close. The date’s fast approach almost made it almost completely elude my mind, and I’m not too sure what sparked the recall. I was fortunate to be at the play Wicked and even more to go backstage after the show. On that stage it occurred to me that I wasn’t all there in the head. I was thinking of other things, daydreaming about the thoughts of tomorrow and the life that had passed. These friends of mine were taking the biggest step and now all I can do is follow suit in a month.

Thinking about yesterdays and tomorrows is all well and good, but it can not be our only thoughts. TODAY has to be our sole thought. Avi Taff, my supervisor at camp and someone who went through this same process only a few years ago, handed me a poem a couple of weeks back that I can not get out of my head even the slightest: “The Station” by Robert Hastings. It speaks of the pleasure of life not being the destination but rather the journey.

The poem reads, “Sooner or later, we realize there is no station, no one place to arrive. The true joy of life is the trip. The station is only a dream. It constantly outdistances us.” Later on it says the following which should be reverberated in everyone’s head many times each day. “It isn’t the burdens of today that drive men mad. It is the regrets over yesterday and the fear of tomorrow. Regret and fear are twin thieves who rob us of today.”

Don’t get caught red-handed by these thieves. Live in each moment. Today, Danny, Mike, and others from my Garin did themselves well and lived for the present. Although it may sound contradicting, I can only think of the day when I will say to myself, “I am doing this; I’m doing Aliyah NOW – not tomorrow, not next month, but now.” At that moment I will have left regrets behind and pushed fears aside and come into my own, my now. My now is quickly on its way.