Shavua tov! I hope we're all emerging from Shabbat rested and energized for a new week. I was fortunate to enjoy a beautiful Shabbat in Jerusalem and want to share a bit of the experience with you.
On Saturday I had Shabbat lunch at the home of one of my Pardes teachers, along with five other students from my program. Walking into large groups of people tends to really stress me out, so I arrived a little early to give myself time to settle in before everyone else came. (It helped that my teacher has two adorable children under age 5, and I was more than happy to keep them occupied while she and her husband finished preparing the meal!) By the time we sat down for kiddush, I felt comfortable and ready to be present for the experience of the lunch, which turned out to be one of the best Shabbat experiences I've had thus far in Israel.
What made this Shabbat lunch so amazing? Well, many significant things happened: 1) I arrived at the table hungry, and I was okay with that; 2) I ate foods that I did not cook myself and whose ingredients were at least partially unknown to me; 3) I made conversation; 4) I listened to what other people said; 5) I ate dessert, not because I was particularly hungry but because it looked delicious; 6) I left the table feeling full, and I was okay with that. Even as I write this, I am aware of how mundane those things seem...it sounds like any ordinary meal. And yet, for me the beauty of this experience was its sheer simplicity and the knowledge that the basic act of enjoying a leisurely meal with friends was something I could taste for myself.
There were whole years full of Shabbats when none of this would have been possible. If I made it to the table at all, it was in body only--my mind was frantically calculating, measuring, comparing, and worrying--leaving no room for being present. This past Saturday, the victory was in being able to take full delight in an experience I used to be able to only watch others enjoy.
Despite having spent all morning in shul, I believe my most spiritual moment of the day occurred as I sat around that table, surrounded by delicious food and delightful company. I felt intense thankfulness to Hashem for seeing me through recovery to that day, that meal. I'm glad Hashem knows what's in my heart even when I can't express it in words, because there's no way I could truly verbalize the gratitude I feel as I reflect on what I was able to be present for this past Shabbat. It was, as I like to say, a total "Baruch Hashem moment." It was also not the first time in recovery when I've had such a moment at a meal, but part of the gift is that it is exciting every time. For me, recovery means being in a perpetual state of shehecheyanu, because I never take for granted being able to enjoy eating freely in the company of others.
I share this anecdote not because it contains some deep Torah insight or profound spiritual teaching. Rather, I share it because there was a time when I did not believe such an experience would ever be within my reach, and this past Shabbat I found the prize firmly in my grasp. I want to say that it is possible to trek through the arduous process of recovery and emerge on the other side, able to engage fully with the delights of this world. If it can happen for me, it can happen for you, too.
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