A rebbe once asked a frantically busy man where he was running so hurriedly. “I’m chasing my destiny,” the man answered. To which the rebbe replied, “How do you know it isn’t perhaps chasing you? Maybe all you have to do is to stand still for a moment to give it a chance to catch up.”
—A Hasidic story retold by Alan Morinis
Dear Friends,
Over the last two months, my family and I have gone through some profound changes. Our younger daughter graduated high school and got accepted into college. Meanwhile, we sold our house of 20 years, downsized to a condo, and moved in. Meanwhile, I was also busy with my book tour and teaching two courses.
Everything was going great – college forms submitted, student finals graded, boxes packed, unpacked, and recycled, book talks put together and delivered – but sometimes, I felt, well, overwhelmed.
A spiritual lesson came out of this time of change, one I’d like to share with you.
I was in a meditation practice, a much-awaited respite from the marathon depicted above, yet I was uncomfortable, restless, feeling the full weight of the projects on my shoulders and the corresponding sense of desperation.
Suddenly, getting out of my head and beginning to pay attention to physical sensations, I noticed a pocket of warmth, radiating from my right palm which was supporting my left palm in my lap.
“It’s a lot, but you’ll make it through,” I heard my inner voice say, “you always have yourself.”
This was comforting. It was a good place to start, but not enough. Something was still missing. Yes, I could always rely on myself, but I felt small, like a flame flickering at an open window.
I recounted this experience in a dokusan (private meeting) with Roshi Ryodo the next day, and he, my Zen teacher, surprised me by asking, “You say you are a person of faith. If you are, don’t you feel a third hand underneath?”
He meant G-d, and with that, it all came together. Discomfort is a necessary part of change, but I am never alone shouldering the weight. This is what the Jewish tradition calls bitachon – the ability to rely on G-d that liberates us to do our best, to realize our fullest potential. “When you pass through water, I will be with you; through streams, they shall not overwhelm you” (Isaiah, 43:2).
The image of my two hands in the third hand that holds them and guides them stayed with me, helped to pull me through. When overwhelmed, pause and look inside, you are lo levad – never alone.
An update on my book.
Many of you have purchased A Family, Maybe, and I am grateful to you for that. 🙏 Some reviewed it online – that’s very helpful too! 🙏
For the last four months, I’ve been on the book tour, with five public talks completed so far.
The tour started with the launch party for A Family, Maybe in Portland on Feb. 13, combined with 2 talks about it at Portland State University.
Since then, I spoke to two LGBTQ-affirming synagogues in LA (April 17), at an indie bookstore in Long Beach (May 15), ONE Archives at USC (June 5), and, on June 14, in conjunction with Father’s Day, at Book Soup, a popular bookstore in West Hollywood (see left).
Each talk has been special in its own way as each venue draws a different audience interested in different aspects of the book. The moderators also bring their own perspectives, and the Q&As with the readers are always illuminating.
I have several more stops on the tour. Please join me if you are in the area. If you cannot attend, my book is now available from my website, where I can sign and send it to you personally!
I hope to return to the regular, themed newsletter format starting next month. Stay cool this summer. Until next time,
-Lane
Lane Igoudin | Author, Professor, Dad 