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What I’ve Been Up To Lately
- Remember kids, Twitter Torah experiment at 2:30PM EST: Collaborative discussion on Parshat Balak. Get in on it at #balak. 23 hrs ago
- RT @spagnoloacht Video of my Creative Commons Salon presentation on the Jewish Digital Narratives platform http://blip.tv/file/2305108/ 1 day ago
- Yes Men pull out of Jerusalem Film Fest http://su.pr/1uJUsU 1 day ago
- More updates...
WASP: Whimsical Adom (Red) Sea Pedestrian
Today I was stung in the trachea by a wasp.
If I haven’t mentioned it before, and if I have, allow me to reiterate: I live in a bunk with no electricity or running water. The closest functioning restroom (lightless composting toilet aside) is a quarter-mile from where I sleep. I’m therefore inclined to use the restrooms on the main campus while I’m there.
Thus, I stepped out of shul this morning to expel a pressing concern, if you catch my drift. I entered one of the buildings on the far-end of campus, and opened the door to one of the restrooms wherein, I suppose, the wasp had been trapped for who knows how long, and stewing in its anger. I immediately felt the sting and at first imagined that I’d been bitten by a tick. I quickly flicked on the light (yes, Shabbos; yes, pikuach nefesh) and saw, not a tick, but a wasp nonchalantly strolling across my chest. (I had originally remembered turning on the light first, but realize now that this was not the order of events. I was struggling with whether or not to turn on the light in the windowless bathroom when I was stung.)
I flicked the wasp off of me and immediately returned to the synagogue holding both hands over my wound, the adrenaline, for the time being, overriding the pain of the sting. When she saw the look on my face, Tirzah jumped up from her seat and took to nursing me, getting me an icepack, and sending several people to hunt down some Benadryl, which was missing from all the First Aid kits in the moadon.
While we waited, she told me about the one time in her life she had been stung by a bee: “It got me right in the heart.” She said she took it as a sign, and suggested that I think about what G-d might be trying to tell me through this incident. I have a pretty good guess, which involves doing something involving my trachea (among other components of my lungs) that I ought not to be doing on Shabbos. (See now, I’ve said it without saying it.) That could certainly be it, if I want to lend myself to the belief that G-d’s manifestation of that wasp-in-the-throat moment was a conscious act intended to teach me a lesson.
It could also be something, it was suggested by Adam, relating perhaps to lashon harah, as was the subject of the parasha we had been reviewing when I’d slipped out of shul moments before. Shelach Lecha, this weeks Torah portion, recounts the tale of the reconnaissance team which issues a false report about the inhabitants of the promised land.
I immediately thought about two things:
1. How I spoke about my experience of David Cooper, here on my blog. (Rokhl, you’re probably right.)
2. How I’ve spoken with other members of the community about an incident that transpired here last week. I’m not supposed to talk about what happened, especially on my blog. Company policy. Suffice to say, without going into any detail, that there was an incredibly intense and dramatic moment here involving a now ex-employee, my bunkmate, and myself, that could have easily snowballed into something way more serious than it wound up being (at least, for Adam and myself).
I agree, I need to be more sensitive to matters of speech. I have nothing else to say on the subject, other than to offer that I will try harder, as I believe I do, each time I recognize my shortcomings on this particular issue.
The final suggestion, which came from one of the participants in the past week’s retreat, was that maybe there was something stuck in my throat, so to speak. Something that needed to get out that I hadn’t been saying. Of all the suggestions, this one seemed the least likely to me, only for the fact that I tend to express myself without hesitation. In fact, what I’m trying to work on while I’m here is learning to think a bit more before I open up my mouth.
This same person and I would later have a very heated discussion about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict — an issue I’ve done very well not discussing for more than a total of 30 minutes in the last four weeks (20 of which were at Steven I. Weiss’ house). The topic came up today over lunch with Tirzah and Akiva Wharton, who were interested in my assessment of the situation in Israel. This other individual, who I’d otherwise enjoyed the company of throughout week, essentially inserted herself into the conversation spouting Right-wing talking points entirely disconnected from the reality on the ground in Israel, before storming off incensed by the fact that I vocally disagreed with her.
Not content with leaving the situation at that, I engaged her later, not about the specificities of the conflict, but rather about the manner in which we discuss the issue. She suggested that her response was triggered by my “negative framing” of Israel.
Why is it, I asked her, that strident supporters of Israel focus on how you discuss Israel’s problems rather than focus on addressing the problems themselves? Israel’s internal collapse is not a “messaging” issue. It’s a “nobody wants to clean up this f*cking mess because they’re more interested in talking about how we talk about the mess” issue. Speaking about Israel’s problems more positively and constructively will not do anything other than suggest there’s no cause for alarm. However, If the handling of the Second Lebanon War and the string of corruption charges and sexual assaults making its way through the administration don’t give you cause for alarm — if all you can talk about are how the Arabs hate us and want to kill us, but never about how we conduct our own affairs — you feign devotion to Israel. If you fail to act now — and again, allow me to reiterate — if you fail to act NOW, there won’t be a state of Israel to argue over in five years.
I began to notice the intensity with which I spoke about the subject. How I went from a total state of calm (even after being stung in the throat by a wasp), to a total state of frustration and vehemence once I began discussing my own experience of Israel (particularly the “Yehoshua and the Useless F*cking Cops” story). I looked at Tirzah and said, “You see how I am right now? All amped up like this? This was me in Israel 24/7. Panic attacks. Sleepless nights. Endless arguments. This is why I needed to leave. I was in a constant state like this. It had to stop. I was going to snap.”
“Thank G-d you got out of there. It was the right thing for you to do.”
“I woke up on my parents couch in New Jersey after my first night back and felt the greatest sigh of relief. I said, ‘Thank G-d! I’m in New Jersey!’ Who the hell talks that way about New Jersey?!”
Sting and all, Tirzah had me carry the Torah from the ark this morning and to serve as hagbah as well. The Shema rang forth from my throat with unexpected clarity and intensity.
Towards the end of services, the group surrounded me for a healing prayer. It was a little overwhelming, but it’s just after midnight now, and I don’t feel the sting at all. It’s as though it never happened.
Tirza suggested I come check out Boulder. She said that it might be the community I’m looking for and seriously encouraged me to visit. I may just do that.
As for now, bedways it rightways.
Shavuah tov.
[Update] Adam says no, it wasn’t the lashon harah thing. Rather, it was their lack of trust in G-d that caused them to speak lashon harah. Hint, hint: Trust in G-d.
Gratia, another participant in this past week’s seminar, just approached me at breakfast and offered her interpretation: “You need to get rid of your ego.” “Did I come across as egotistical?” “No, not at all,” she said. “But the ego is rooted in the neck.” “Uh…” “Take it in. Revisit it. Maybe you’ll understand in the future.”
An easy remedy for wasp stings is vinegar; just apply some on a tissue and put it on the bitemark. The vinegar will suck the poison out through osmosis. The risk of being bitten by ticks is way lower on dry than on humid days. Pardon my pragmatism, but as “fun” as it might be to interpret the location where you’ve been stung, don’t you think it’s a bit too heathen a thing to do? (As this is a thing Ancient Roman augures may have done.) On a more empathetic note: awwwwwww, feel better!
A completely unrelated question: what’s the beverage of choice at Elat Chayim? I have a theory, of course, but I’ll await the insider report.
just amusing to me that the literal parellel never came up ..
you’ve been badmouthing israel — for what are (in your opinion) good reasons..
[of course it can go the other way, from your situation I can learn about the meraglim that they thought they were doing what they did for the right reasons.. they really didn't think they were doing anything wrong]
i’m not judging the reasons, i’m not judging you.. i’m just surprised no one drew the straight parallel — potential literal lesson of parshat meraglim: “badmouthing israel is bad.”
though, I don’t think HaShem stung you to punish you for anything, if anything it was just to make you think, our relationship w/ HaShem is more complicated than trying to figure out why we were spanked. (i hope)
I only know you via your blog and as a friend of friends, but I don’t think you’d really enjoy living in boulder long term, but then again, my opinions are probably even stupider than yours
Not meaning to be a smartass, but the ego’s rooted in the frontal lobe of your brain. Cf. Descartes’ Error: Emotion, Reason, and the Human Brain by Antonio Damasio, one of the world’s leading neurologists and an incredibly sophisticated and culturally educated man.
Who was the the right wing female you met at Isabella Freedman? I would like to talk to her…
Gevalt! I’ve never been stung by a wasp, but this sounds like a world of no fun.
Is there inherent meaning in the wasp sting? For me, that’s debatable. But I tend to feel that the question of whether meaning is inherent (in our lives, in our texts) is less important than the question of what we meaning we find in, or bring to, our experiences. The interpretations offered in this post drash the wasp sting in fascinating ways… and I’m glad the lasting impact is intellectual and spiritual, rather than physical!
Okay, to expand on my previous comment, I realize that this may be the wrong crowd for what I’m about to ask, but I ask the crunchies to open their minds to alternate hypotheses for the briefest of moments: is it, in some remote way, possible that (not to be Freudian about it) a wasp is…just a wasp? I mean, if I can be REAL for just one minute, wasps live in the woods. It is their natural habitat. If having an encounter with one is hashgacha pratit (that’s Hebrew for hushguchuh protis), then crossing paths with an adorable squirrel is also a sign from God, perhaps that the time has come to begin gathering supplies for the winter, or perhaps to get some bushy tail. Now, if you’d had an unexpected run-in with, say, a majestic California condor, that might be cause to fall to your knees and repent. But a wasp?
Also, the fact that apparently everybody’s natural instinct when someone is hurt in your little insect-infested crystal-rubbing Gehinnom out in the woods is to immediately ascribe cosmic import worries me.
“What happened?!”
“I…I got hit by a car…”
“Oh, well, it’s probably God’s way of retribution because you’ve driven on Shabbat before.”
“…uh…I can’t feel my legs…I think I’m losing blood…”
“Oh, your legs are gone. But don’t worry, impure urges are rooted in the legs, and all kinds of tumah are present in blood.”
“…couldn’t you…maybe see if you can find them…and…put them on ice…or something?”
“We don’t have electricity, what makes you think we have ice?”
I don’t know how you’ve lasted this long. If it were me, the minute the healing circle gathered ’round, there would have been (somewhat perversely) violence.
Incidentally…
“I have a pretty good guess, which involves doing something involving my trachea that I ought not to be doing on Shabbos.”
Deep throating in dark men’s rooms is assur all week long.
I think you were stung by a wasp because the wasp wanted to sting you because that is what wasps do. Or perhaps the wasp was pissed you haven’t finished Ziva’s blog yet. Yeah, that’s probably it.
thanks, michael, for brightening my day.
The son of a rebbe came home one day from cheder with a black eye. When questioned, he told his father that another boy had claimed that HIS father’s sukkah was the best in the area. Refuting his claim and stating that his father, the rebbe’s sukkah was the best, the two boys began to fight.
Well, the rebbe was mortified. Not only had his boy been fighting in cheder– but just who was this other man to claim the best sukkah in that region? What chutzpah! Everyone knows that he, the rebbe, had the best sukkah!
Marching up the hill to the man’s house, he discovered that the family was not wealthy, nor scholarly. A simple, working family, and a simple, working family’s sukkah. Standing with the man, looking around his sukkah, taking in the elegant grace with which the family had lovingly decorated the walls, the rebbe had to admit, it was beautiful. Still, the rebbe kept thinking about the richness and luxury of his own sukkah until suddenly a wasp came out of nowhere and started winging around him.
Aha!! Thinking finally he had found fault in the sukkah, the rebbe turned to the man and said “well, in my sukkah we don’t have wasps!” to which the man replied “but rebbe, THAT wasp is here for you!”
Seeing the error of his ways, the rebbe immediately embraced the man, thanked him, agreed that his sukkah was indeed the most beautiful, and went home to celebrate the rest of the hag with his family.
—I’m not saying the moral of the story matches your situation…. but it was the first wasp anecdote that came to mind.
Blessings to you!
I cant believe the blather over this incident. The message is dont mess with a wasp which is hungry, thirsty and has been trapped in a shitter. What’s next, the message revealed from the pimple on your ass?
B”H
Honestly, Yosele, we both know that these things mean everything and nothing at all in the same moment. No one’s suggesting Dan drive himself crazy over it. We also don’t know who it is that conversations like this benefit, however inane they seem. I know that it gave this Hasid food for thought as I move into a new stage of my career. Gave me thought about my shabbos practice too, in a way that Is private and I’m not sharing here… but I thought and thought and thought about it…. and then yes, went on with life.
This is an essential part of the Hebrew way of being– this making everything of nothing, and also being grounded and “getting over it” and moving on with life in the mundane here and now. This is how we marry heaven and earth. What’s wrong with this? It’s who we are. Sure, fixating irrationally on them is unhealthy, but a little what’s the cosmic meaning, especially on Shabbos? Well, all I can say is, Yasher-Koach!
Blessings to you all!
Part of me understands a devotion to understand the Hebrew way of being but since events can mean everything and nothing in the same moment the other part of me thinks living a spartan life in a tent in the mountains contemplating everything and nothing, is a convenient dodge to escape living life in this world. It takes all kinds I suppose.
B”H
“is a convenient dodge to escape living life in this world. It takes all kinds I suppose.”
Some of us need to reinfuse our souls because we work tirelessly IN THIS WORLD– Dan especially, how anyone can say he’s/you’re dodging worldly duties, I don’t know. Give the man a break already.
Anyrate, I think we’ve beaten this to a pulp.
Blessings and Blessings to everyone.
Dan doesn’t need a break, to offer one would imply that he is doing something unacceptable which of course, he is not. I know him, like him and respect his search for self.
I cant wait for the story about the pimple.
come out west, she repeats, perhaps less futilely than before.
there are people who appreciate you on every corner here. sf, berkeley, whatever. just get the fuck out here already.
B”H
Echo Echo.
Come WEST young man. We’ll be good to you.
B-
i dunno, wasn’t it buckaroo bonzai who said- wherever you go, there you are…