Today was all about taking care of me. I got up early, I took a shower and I got dressed. I called the Rabbi before I left the house. I took the Metro up to The Chabad House and the Rabbi was waiting for me.
In a short few minutes, I spoke what was on my heart and my need to seek answers. The Rabbi knows everything. We trust his word without question when he speaks to us. He is always there, day in and day out caring for us, those of us who come to Chabad.
He gave me sage advice.
He said, that in times like these, with all the hate and death all around us, running somewhere else, is not going to make it any better. He told me to stay where I was and not run. He told me that with what he knows about me and the work I do, the work we all do, that we MUST pump as much good into the world as we can, from where ever we are.
Good work takes great commitment and great responsibility.
With that he left me to attend the afternoon meeting with my friends.
He took the time to listen.
I came home, and continued to take care of me. I called a second Rabbi, who is a woman who helms a synagogue right around the corner, her secretary called me back and said that Rabbi was out of pocket for a while, and won’t be back till the end of next month.
BUT, she invited me to Temple on Friday night for service.
I made a second call to an Anglican priest, my friend and mentor who fell away from me. I made a call to the Cathedral and i was kindly given the number where I c0uld reach him.
He is seeing me next Tuesday afternoon.
Then I called Boo. And we have been speaking on and off all day long. Much needed.
She gives me the space to be me and she listens.
I called Rafa and we have spoken several times today.
Rafa talks to me, AND he listens, and has been by my side every day without fail.
I went to my regular Tuesday meeting. The read went around, so did the shares. I waited till the end, and I started speaking. Then I started crying, and sobbing and fell into a massive ugly cry.
I said … When Sunday happened, and the world was rent, only ONE, ONE alcoholic called me to see if I was ok. You could have dropped a pin in the room. I was a mess.
I’ve never cried like that, ever… Well maybe at Grammy’s funeral.
Every body gave me the space and the time to be raw in real time. Nobody said a word.
My sponsor was not pleased with what I said.
After the meeting my sponsor called me out to talk.
We sat, I started talking, and the sobs began again. I said many things, and this is what he said to me:
- That You think you are so special
- That we should treat you differently than anybody else
- That I expect special treatment, “NO, I said, try a little compassion!” no answer
- I continued to talk and sob
- I was sobbing and said, “All these kids are DEAD, and my friends are hurting, they fear going to work and school, they are afraid and won’t leave the safety of home because of all of this. And I can’t help all of them from here…”
- His last words to me were this
- YOU ARE ACTING LIKE A CHILD ...
With that said, I got up and walked away. I got on the bus and came home.
He did not say “I’m sorry, or I feel for you, Or even, I don’t understand.” He did not extend a hand or an arm to console me because at that point I was inconsolable.
I just walked away.
On the way home I called a second member who was sitting in the room with us and heard what I had to say.
He listened to me and he spoke kindness to me. And gave me some advice as well.
I need to take care of me. I need to be good to myself. I need to ride out my feelings, and not stuff them in a box and deny them.
He said to rest, not think about what happened. and let it rest for a couple of days.
I spoke to Rafa and Boo.
Now I need to eat and watch some banal television.
More to come.