I find going back to Sefer Bereishit to be quite satisfying--you just can't beat the narratives, and reuniting with some of the key figures in the collective history of the Jewish people is very sweet, indeed. This week's parasha, Lech Lecha, has SO much packed into it that it's hard to know where to start. In the spirit of finding something new with each read of the Torah, this week I'm going to explore an angle of Lech Lecha that I previously often passed by: The Covenant Between the Parts. In this covenant, Hashem promises Abraham that the Jewish people will inherit the Land of Israel, but first they will go through a painful period of exile and slavery.
"And He said to Abram, 'Know with certainty that your offspring shall be aliens in a land not their own--and they will serve them, and they will oppress them--four hundred years...and afterwards they will leave with great wealth." (Bereishit 15:13-14)
The Talmud teaches that the Jewish people were exiled and scattered throughout the world only so that converts might join them. On one level, this could be referring to the many people throughout history who were born non-Jewish but chose to convert to Judaism. But there is a Chassidic interpretation that I like even better: that the "converts" are actually sparks of holiness that have been dispersed far and wide. The idea is that every soul has its own sparks strewn about the world, and it is only by traveling through life--a journey that is often rocky--that one gathers up all of one's sparks. All the struggles and challenges we face, which might feel like random bad luck, are actually given to us with the purpose of allowing us to extract from those experiences the sparks that complete our souls.
Developing an eating disorder is like going into exile from one's true self and entering a harsh world of isolation, desperation, and fear. When one is in that state, it is difficult to imagine that anything good could come out of it. "I'll be lucky to get out of this alive," you might think, "Forget about leaving with riches." But, Chassidut teaches that perhaps the eating disorder isn't random bad luck, at all; rather, it is an experience given to a person in order to grant him or her sparks of insight and strength upon emerging from it.
Personally, I would not wish an eating disorder on anyone, but I also would not trade for anything the blessings I've gained in recovery. Because I struggled with an eating disorder, I am more thoughtful, courageous, and resilient than I would have been had I not had that painful experience. Recovery has given me the ability to go beyond the food and body obsessions that plague so much of the general population--I see that for what it is, and I'm not falling for it. I am able to name my feelings and sit with them, rather than numbing myself with distraction after distraction. Years of therapy have allowed me to understand myself and my own strengths and weaknesses much more clearly than I ever would have otherwise. And, along the way I have connected with many special people--friends, mentors, and clinicians--who have brought much love, light, and truth to my life. Was life in the eating disorder miserable? For sure. But I truly believe I have emerged with great wealth.
For all of us who are in exile in one form or another, I wish for us the ability to appreciate the riches we're accumulating as we go through our experiences. Persevere through struggle, and gather your sparks--it's wealth you can't get any other way, and it's 100% worth it.
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