On Potential
Living with Inspiration
This past Monday morning I awoke, like every day, except that this morning I was uninspired.
I worked my way through my regular schedule, which I often find a surprising challenge, with bored disinterest. It all seemed far too tedious, even irrelevant.
I searched for the meaning and inspiration that I usually associate with the multifaceted obligations in my life, but I found none. It had been replaced with a sea of monotony and purposelessness, a rush of activity with little meaning or direction.
The rush hour of getting the kids clothed, breakfasted, and carrying their brown-bagged lunches as they scurried out the front door to their honking car pools was over. I now found a moment to drink in the sinking blandness in my mind and savor its dullness over my cup of steaming coffee. Even its freshly percolated aroma, usually so rich, this morning smelled and tasted unstriking.
Nor did the day progress any better.
I tried to pray passionately, to ask You for guidance and direction to help me find the meaning that I lacked. I even attempted to complain to You angrily about all the suffering and hardship in Your world that the newspapers bombard us with daily. I tried to muster some emotion, if not gratitude, at least anger, pain, or frustration. Something. Anything. But nothing came. Instead, the words came out automatically, in a monotone, as tasteless as my morning coffee had been.
At the office I went through the regular motions, taking care of the paperwork, updating the data on the computer, returning phone calls, organizing upcoming adult educational programs, and scheduling my calendar. But it was all without emotion, without passion. I whiled away the hours with a growing restlessness, looking forward to being back at home.
I drove the short distance from my office to home. Trying to drown the thoughts in my mind, I played the Jewish music cassette loudly. It sang Your praise, the sweetness of Your ways, Your merits and our gratitude to You. But as loud as it played, my mind screamed its dissent even louder. Why? Why were life’s challenges so difficult? Why was there so much pain? What was the purpose of it all? Are You really enjoying watching us constantly repeat our blunders only to face them yet again? Isn’t there a better way?
I knew that my soul was sad that Monday. I knew that she was hurting. Yet I also knew that I couldn’t reach her, caress her, or provide her with the balm of spiritual nourishment that she so desperately craved.
My soul was imprisoned behind a thick, coarse wall of absolute and complete, dispassionate, and uninspiring apathy.
For a few moments that sunny afternoon, I thought that I had almost grabbed hold of her. In a few quiet moments, as my youngest child sat on my lap and I read to him his favorite tales, I smelled sweetness in the air. Sitting side by side with him on the bare wood floor as we built an elaborate structure of the Beit HaMikdash (Holy Temple) with his colorful wooden blocks, I thought that I had tasted some meaning.
To my disappointment, it was elusive and disappeared again in the ensuing busy moments as the regular routine resumed.
Nor did my mood improve when I remembered that today was Monday and I was slated to deliver my weekly Monday night Torah class to the regular, full-capacity crowd. The class had grown, and some fifty or sixty women attended. They looked to this class for their weekly inspiration, their connection to You and to spirituality. How, I wondered, would I bring them inspiration when I couldn’t find any myself?
Evening rolled around, and I was physically drained, but even more emotionally and spiritually exhausted. All I wanted was to curl up in my bed and allow sleep to overtake me, to stop my mind’s incessant thoughts and hope to awaken to a more rewarding tomorrow.
Instead, dutifully, I put on a fresh gloss of lipstick and grabbed a smartly matching blazer as I grudgingly headed out the door.
As I entered the large room of the synagogue, a feeling of dread washed over me. Of course, a welcoming smile was plastered over my face, but within was turmoil.
To my surprise, the class progressed well. We delved into the sources and applied its lessons to our lives. The questions from the audience were interesting. Somehow, my mouth and tongue worked in partnership and found the right words and resources, and the participants left, to my relief, enlightened and inspired.
As I once again opened the front door of my home, I wondered at the change in my mood. What had happened? What had “reconnected” me? At what moment did inspiration replace apathetic doom and gloom?
I knew it had not been the words that I had said, for there was nothing novel about them. I was certain, too, that it was not the material covered, as that, too, was very familiar to me. And though the participants’ questions were challenging and their comments engaging, they did not reveal any new revelation or perspective.
So what was it that during the day I was unable to reach, with my prayers, Torah learning, or my daily rituals and routines, that this room, surrounded by these women, had unlocked?
Pondering these thoughts, I realized that though there was nothing novel in what I had said, I was forced, due to the circumstances, to say it passionately. Surrounded by those women looking to me for inspiration, I was forced to perform a drama, to act out an inspiration, to find a meaning and a purpose that I hadn’t perceived.
And as I allowed myself to act out this inspiration, I surprised myself by actually feeling it. The act became experienced; the passion became real. And, in the process, the connection became established.
I learned something essential about inspiration on that bland and uninspirational Monday.
Sit back and wait for the inspiration to surface, as one awaits the sun to peak through the dense fog on a cloudy day, and you won’t find it. Allow yourself to chase it, to act it and to experience it, and it will emerge. Suddenly the walls of apathy will crumble as you come into contact with the true inner depths of yourself.
Listen intently to the voice that emerges. You may even hear your own soul speaking.
* Tap into your inner strength and calling by finding something that you can act passionately for.
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