Chag sameach--happy Sukkot to all! Before I dive into the blog post itself, I just want to take a little bit of space to acknowledge that this blog is now one year old! Developing it has been such a fun journey for me...many thanks to everyone who is along for the ride!
Now, onto the festival of Sukkot, of which we are currently smack in the middle. After the somber, contemplative mood of the High Holidays, Sukkot brings us into a week of festive celebration. One of the themes of the holiday is that of, "welcoming guests," or hachnasat orchim in Hebrew. (For an adorably amusing "Shalom Sesame" video explaining hachnasat orchim, click here...I can't be the only one who gets all nostalgic for "Shalom Sesame!") Just as Abraham was famous for waiting for strangers to pass by his tent so he could invite them in, so are we supposed to make an extra effort to invite people into our sukkot or to otherwise share the holiday with us. The spirit of reaching out and welcoming others into our lives is part of what makes Sukkot such a joyous time.
I find the idea of hachnasat orchim to be especially personally relevant because opening myself and my space to others is definitely not a natural instinct of mine. I am introverted to the core and have been since childhood; but, I am also aware that for the years when I was actively engaged in my eating disorder, I took this particular personality trait to new heights. In my mind, other people made things messy--and I hated mess. I wanted things exactly how I wanted them, tightly under my control...and bringing other people into the mix inevitably meant letting in an element of unpredictability and uncertainty, which I simply could not tolerate. Additionally, I was deeply afraid of rejection and of desiring a relationship with someone who did not want one with me. I was not willing to risk feeling the pain of being unwanted--better to not reach out in the first place, than to reach out and be disappointed. One of my early therapists had a name for this: "people restricting." In addition to restricting my intake of food, I was also severely limiting my intake of other people--I honestly felt it was the safest way to go.
I've since changed my mind.
Don't get me wrong--I am still a classic introvert who craves "alone time," but I have also discovered that along with unpredictability and uncertainty, other people also inject a lot of energy and love into my life. In fact, when I think about the moments in my recovery that stand out to me as major milestones, every one of them was an experience that I shared with other people, and the connectedness that I felt with those individuals was part of what made each of those moments so precious. My eating disorder stepped in to fill a gaping void in my life during a time when I felt profoundly empty. In order for me to be willing to give it up, I needed something else to slip into that space--and I have found other people to be a critical part of what now "fills me up." Interestingly, it's only in recovery that I've found myself actually able to present with other people. Connectedness fuels my recovery, and my recovery powers connectedness--it's a beautifully self-perpetuating phenomenon.
So, although I still find that quiet time alone in a sukkah is sometimes just what I need, I also must acknowledge that when I do go out of my way to let others in, I am almost never disappointed and am almost always enriched. Hachnasat orchim might not be my natural instinct, but it's definitely one of the best learned habits I've picked up on the way, and is one I am still working hard to cultivate. During this week of sukkot and beyond, I encourage any other "people restrictors" out there to try a different approach, even just one time. Invite others to be with you, wherever you are. It's true--other people do sometimes make a bit of a mess, but they also bring a lot of joy!
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