Roots and Wings - A Love Story
OK, now that I’ve outed us in our Chol HaMoed attire, I want to tell a little story about where we are and how we got here. When Simcha and I met, he had made the decision that he wanted to be Shabbat observant, he wore a kippah and he basically kept kosher. I had already been religious for six years and had spent some serious time learning in Yeshiva in Israel. In short, I was more religiously observant than he was although he was far more spiritual than I. His deep inner spirituality was something that attracted me to him almost instantly. He was clearly a sensitive, spiritual person yet he wasn’t at all flaky. As a short haired, trim bearded, third year medical student in khakis and a polo shirt he looked as steady as they come. I wasn’t impressed by the medical school, but the yoga and meditation terrified me and intrigued me.
At that time, I was a much more closed person than I am today. I had a lot of things that I felt I needed to express in the world, but had a great fear of getting hurt and so I kept many things inside, and covered many other things with a rather biting, right on sarcasm and cynicism. I had a lot to offer but was often pretty unhappy because there was no one I felt safe offering it to.
Back in Ohio, we were both close with a family named the Andrusiers – a Chabad family in the community that did a lot of Chesed. I would often spend Shabbat dinner at their house and Rabbi Andrusier used to say, “Beth, you have a Chassidishe Neshama (soul)” I would scream and holler when he said this. “Not true, I am not a woman who is about emotion! Give me logic and I’ll be happy. I don’t go for all this mystical, Chassidic stuff.” And then I’d go home and snuggle up on the couch with Rabbi Dr. Abraham Twerski never realizing that his teaching is about as Chassidic as it gets.
Something about Simcha made me feel like when I was with him, it was almost OK to be me. I would test the waters a bit and it always came back without drowning. The more I shared of myself, the more he loved me and he always respected what I said without judgment. And so over the years, I have become more myself around him than I have ever been before. And I hope that the same is true for him.
Those who have followed our journey from rainbow kippahs to black hats know that it has not been a journey that has come easily for me. Along the way, I have expressed my discomfort with the community, my discomfort with the attire, and my discomfort with some of the religious stringencies that Simcha has wanted to take on. But, I am not and have never, in this relationship, been a doormat. As my father in law says, in marriage a good rule to follow is “If it doesn’t work for one of us, it doesn’t work for either of us.” We have followed this rule although it sometimes takes us a while to process what works and what doesn’t work about a particular situation.
As it happens, I, who really could live without a husband in a beckeshe (long coat) and black hat, am the person who encouraged him to go out and get them. And I am the one who sends him to the Rebbes Tisch on Friday night. Why? Because I know that these things are spiritually meaning to him. Do I understand it? Not exactly - but this is his thing, not mine. Much like some women don’t like football but know that their husband enjoys it, I have a husband who has found a deep connection with a holy person – more productive, in my opinion than football. When family, friends and strangers look at Simcha in his Shabbos and Chol HaMoed attire, they see a Chassid in black garb, On Chol Hamoed, walking around Jerusalem, I saw that people reacted to us differently than they usually do. People spoke to Simcha in Yiddish, assuming he would understand. Women spoke to me rather than him, assuming he wouldn’t talk to them. But what no one who is not us sees, is the nuance that got us to where we are. One might not notice that his beard is much more trim and much shorter than he might otherwise choose. And they wouldn’t know that on Tuesday those peios (the hair on the side) are tucked behind his ears and he is wearing slacks with a blue shirt rather than the customary white. They certainly wouldn’t know that although he is committed to praying with a minyan (quorum of 10) on Shabbat, he chooses to pray with a group of Sephardic men rather than his Chassidic community because it works better for our family and gives him more time to be with his children. Why is he doing these things? Because, we are on this journey called marriage together and if it doesn’t work for one of us it doesn’t work for either of us.
I think that left on our own, Simcha reaches for heaven but secretly knows he needs to be planted on Earth whereas I plant myself on Earth but know that I need to reach towards heaven. And that is why we are good for one another. We offer one another someone who can see through the illusions that we create for ourselves, give them enough credence not to feel insulted and give one another the tools and space to go where our soul needs to go in order to become our better self.
{But always remember Simcha really is the spiritual one : ) }
To read more: http://houseofjoy.blogspot.com/2006/10/roots-and-wings-love-story.html
At that time, I was a much more closed person than I am today. I had a lot of things that I felt I needed to express in the world, but had a great fear of getting hurt and so I kept many things inside, and covered many other things with a rather biting, right on sarcasm and cynicism. I had a lot to offer but was often pretty unhappy because there was no one I felt safe offering it to.
Back in Ohio, we were both close with a family named the Andrusiers – a Chabad family in the community that did a lot of Chesed. I would often spend Shabbat dinner at their house and Rabbi Andrusier used to say, “Beth, you have a Chassidishe Neshama (soul)” I would scream and holler when he said this. “Not true, I am not a woman who is about emotion! Give me logic and I’ll be happy. I don’t go for all this mystical, Chassidic stuff.” And then I’d go home and snuggle up on the couch with Rabbi Dr. Abraham Twerski never realizing that his teaching is about as Chassidic as it gets.
Something about Simcha made me feel like when I was with him, it was almost OK to be me. I would test the waters a bit and it always came back without drowning. The more I shared of myself, the more he loved me and he always respected what I said without judgment. And so over the years, I have become more myself around him than I have ever been before. And I hope that the same is true for him.
Those who have followed our journey from rainbow kippahs to black hats know that it has not been a journey that has come easily for me. Along the way, I have expressed my discomfort with the community, my discomfort with the attire, and my discomfort with some of the religious stringencies that Simcha has wanted to take on. But, I am not and have never, in this relationship, been a doormat. As my father in law says, in marriage a good rule to follow is “If it doesn’t work for one of us, it doesn’t work for either of us.” We have followed this rule although it sometimes takes us a while to process what works and what doesn’t work about a particular situation.
As it happens, I, who really could live without a husband in a beckeshe (long coat) and black hat, am the person who encouraged him to go out and get them. And I am the one who sends him to the Rebbes Tisch on Friday night. Why? Because I know that these things are spiritually meaning to him. Do I understand it? Not exactly - but this is his thing, not mine. Much like some women don’t like football but know that their husband enjoys it, I have a husband who has found a deep connection with a holy person – more productive, in my opinion than football. When family, friends and strangers look at Simcha in his Shabbos and Chol HaMoed attire, they see a Chassid in black garb, On Chol Hamoed, walking around Jerusalem, I saw that people reacted to us differently than they usually do. People spoke to Simcha in Yiddish, assuming he would understand. Women spoke to me rather than him, assuming he wouldn’t talk to them. But what no one who is not us sees, is the nuance that got us to where we are. One might not notice that his beard is much more trim and much shorter than he might otherwise choose. And they wouldn’t know that on Tuesday those peios (the hair on the side) are tucked behind his ears and he is wearing slacks with a blue shirt rather than the customary white. They certainly wouldn’t know that although he is committed to praying with a minyan (quorum of 10) on Shabbat, he chooses to pray with a group of Sephardic men rather than his Chassidic community because it works better for our family and gives him more time to be with his children. Why is he doing these things? Because, we are on this journey called marriage together and if it doesn’t work for one of us it doesn’t work for either of us.
I think that left on our own, Simcha reaches for heaven but secretly knows he needs to be planted on Earth whereas I plant myself on Earth but know that I need to reach towards heaven. And that is why we are good for one another. We offer one another someone who can see through the illusions that we create for ourselves, give them enough credence not to feel insulted and give one another the tools and space to go where our soul needs to go in order to become our better self.
{But always remember Simcha really is the spiritual one : ) }
To read more: http://houseofjoy.blogspot.com/2006/10/roots-and-wings-love-story.html
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