The G-d Connection

I've been back from Israel for two weeks now, and I've more or less readjusted.  There are some features of life in the States that I definitely missed while I was away; namely, listening to Pandora Radio, using self-checkout lines at the supermarket, and drinking Starbucks iced coffee (cold brew...yes).  But in other areas, my heart misses Israel, and what I long for most of all are the connections with my Israeli friends and "family."  I have a very comfortable, predictable life here in the U.S., and I love comfort and predictability...but those features don't help me when I feel lonely.  And there are times, even as I'm enjoying the routine of my life at home, when the sense of my separation from my friends in Israel leaves me keenly aware of a raw, deep hunger for connection.  Complicating matters further is the fact that my BFA (Best Friend in America) has moved out of state.  Lately, loneliness and I have gotten to know each other quite well.

Still, it's not all bleak.  I have had some lovely interactions with people here at home and have enjoyed reconnecting with them.  But there's one relationship that has comforted me more than any other, one friend who consistently reminds me that I am not alone, and that friend is...G-d.

I was inspired to actively invest in this "G-d connection" by a dear friend of mine in Israel, who has graciously fielded a few "Help, I'm really lonely!" emails from me and whose sage advice, if distilled, comes down to this: keep reaching out, keep making friends, and keep talking to G-d.  She explained to me that she views spirituality as one's relationship with Hashem, and everything we do in that context is all about that relationship.  In any intimate relationship, we do things that we think will make our partner happy; in the case of G-d, that includes rituals of observance.  We also talk with our partner, not just as a means to get our needs met, but as a way to deepen the connection between us.  Similarly, we have davening as a formal way of communicating with G-d, but it's also important to engage Him/Her in casual, intimate conversation.  If we invest enough time and energy into this relationship with Hashem, it can become one of the most important relationships we have.

Jewish tradition strongly endorses "talking to Hashem" in this way.  I learned from one of my teachers about the practice of hitbodedut, a concept developed by Rebbe Nachman of Breslov.  Hitbodedut is an unstructured, spontaneous form of prayer in which one talks to G-d about anything on one's mind.  In his work, Likutei Moharan, Rebbe Nachman explains how to do hitbodedut:

"Hitbodedut is the highest and most exalted experience...To pour out our thoughts between ourselves and G-d--in complaints or frustrations, in words of kindness or agreement, and to request and beseech G-d that we will be able to approach closer to G-d in our true behaviors and desires.

Everything in our heart we should discuss before G-d:  Regrets and changes I have made concerning the past...Desires and yearnings for the future...And if I am feeling alienated from G-d--about all of this I should talk with G-d."

I like knowing that I can talk to G-d at any time, in any place, about anything.  And, since it's important in any relationship to listen as well as talk, I can listen to G-d, too, and try to hear what He/She is telling me.

Of course, G-d is not the same as a human friend.  I can't rely only on my relationship with G-d; I need to work on developing more friendships, as well.  My friend and my teacher both emphasized that Hashem is not a substitute for human relationships; however, if I put effort into cultivating my relationship with G-d, it can sustain me and comfort me in times when I feel lonely and in need of connection.

The truth is, I've been "talking to G-d" for a long time.  Growing up without a best friend, I figured out pretty early that a friendship with G-d was one that would never fail me.  And when I was in college, struggling mightily with my eating disorder and the worst depression I've ever experienced, sometimes I used to just lie on my bed, close my eyes, and imagine that G-d was holding me.  But I always felt like I could never tell anyone about this; it seemed a little like having an "imaginary friend"--not something you would want anyone else to know about!  Imagine my surprise (and delight!) when I learned that a) other people do this, too; and b) our tradition supports it.

And so, as I've readjusted to life in the States, I've tried to connect to G-d in a friendly way on a daily basis.  Last Friday I got inspired to clean for Shabbat by imagining that Hashem was coming to visit me in my apartment.  The other day, I went for a walk in a park and told G-d how beautiful I thought everything was.  When I'm bored or lonely, I try to do some Jewish learning.  And every night, after saying Shema but before going to sleep, I take a minute to thank Hashem for all the good things that happened during the day.  None of this has completely fixed the loneliness problem, but it has definitely made me feel more connected and has reassured me that even when I am lonely, I'm never truly alone.

So, if I may offer one suggestion to anyone suffering from loneliness, depression, or isolation, it would be the advice my friend gave to me:  talk to G-d.  Share your worries, your joys, your sadness.  Do things to make G-d happy (they'll probably make you happier, too).  And, as my teacher says:  when we pray the Amidah, one of the reasons why we whisper is because G-d is right in front of us.