Out of the Straits...

I'll be honest:  I'm not much of a psalms person.  As much as I enjoy davening, I just haven't really gotten into the whole tehillim routine.  Saying tehillim is on my list of things I "should" do, but don't yet feel any deep emotional motivation to actually put into practice.  That said, this past Shabbat was Rosh Chodesh Shevat, and when the congregation began reciting Hallel on Saturday morning, I found myself actually reading some of the psalms...and wouldn't you know...

...something grabbed me.

That "something" is from the opening to Psalm 118:

.מן המצר קראתי יה, ענני במרחב יה
From the straits did I call upon Hashem; Hashem answered me with expansiveness.

The commentary in my siddur explains that this psalm reflects gratitude and confidence.  Just as Hashem lifted King David out of his personal struggles and into glory, so too can we hope to be brought out of our own narrow places and into a freer, more radiant existence.

The idea of being liberated from confinement and released into the openness of the world resonates with me deeply (especially as I also think of this week's parasha, Bo, and the developing story of the Exodus).  I remember well the feeling of being stuck in a narrow, compressed existence, one with limited vision, little hope, and seemingly no good options.  From within that place, although I felt that I had no faith left, my spirit called out to Hashem...and He did answer me.  He placed supportive people into my life and gave me the determination to use the help I received; He brought hope back into my heart, and He gave me the courage to take one step at a time until I was able to exit the cramped world of anorexia and reenter life.

There was a time when the expansiveness of life scared me.  The world was too fast, too loud, too overwhelming.  So, I built myself a tiny fortress and closed myself off from the challenges--and joys--of navigating the wider world.  The problem was that after a while, the fortress ceased to be satisfying...but because it was so sturdily constructed, I couldn't get myself out of it.  Once my desire for freedom became genuine, Hashem helped me return to the very openness I had once shunned.

I remember attending a panel of recovery speakers several years ago, back when I was first entering the final push of my own recovery.  One of the women compared her eating disorder to, "a train to nowhere"...and recovery, she said, was the "train to everywhere."  She could stop the train wherever she wanted, get off and explore, then resume the ride.  If she wanted to truly experience life, that train was the only one that would get her anywhere worth going.  I found this analogy so powerful that when I got home from the panel, I made a drawing of my own "train to everywhere" and hung it on my bulletin board, where it still sits to this day.  When I feel myself start to get scared to take risks or to stop myself from growing, the "train to everywhere" reminds me of what this whole process is about:  having the freedom to take my life in whatever direction I want, and being able to breathe deeply and fill my lungs with the fresh, open air of life.

Sometimes I think back to the years I spent in my fortress and remember how for so long I found its narrowness comforting and familiar.  But, although the real world can be surprising and challenging at times, I continue to be grateful for being able to experience the breadth and depth of life.  My wish for you is that you also find the courage to venture out into the open.  The expanse can seem overwhelming, but it is also full of brightness and beauty.  Give yourself permission to take from, and contribute to, the abundant world that Hashem created.