Running to Catch Up with Myself

I’ve been running most of my life to catch up with myself. Whether it’s paying bills, putting away laundry or finishing a story, I run through the day picking up the remains of all I haven’t done.

This is not a habit I’ve developed as an adult; it’s a tendency I’ve had since I was a little girl. The first time I noticed it was in third grade, on a crisp autumn afternoon as I was walking home from school. I dropped my black composition notebook on the sidewalk and bent down to pick it up.

I picked up the notebook and brushed it off, the entire process taking no more than a few seconds. Then, as if moved by an invisible force, I did something I had never done before. I ran ahead, ten or fifteen steps, to the place where I imagined I would have been, should have been, if I hadn’t dropped my book. It was a purely spontaneous, unpremeditated response to the fact that I had stopped moving. Without thinking, I ran to catch up with myself.

I am reminded of this incident as I look around and see my family, friends, and neighbors running to catch up with the lives they would have had, should have had, if the economic losses of the past year hadn’t hit them so hard. It is as if we are all sorting through a pile of “what if’s” in order to make decisions now about things that only a year ago seemed so much easier to decide. Can we afford to send our daughter to a private college? Will there be sufficient funds to pay the mortgage let alone buy a new car or take a family vacation? Should I look for a second job?

In my struggle to find a healthy response to these very real pressures, I turn to the wisdom of Jewish thinking to guide me. And while there are no simple answers to allay my questions and fears about the future, Judaism provides a very real compass by which to guide my steps. That compass comes in the form of two words which can empower us with hope and enable us to make a difference even in the most difficult of times. Tikkun olam, which in Hebrew means “repairing the world,” is the Jewish mandate that can help us reclaim our spiritual equilibrium in these turbulent waters.

Throughout the Torah and the Talmud we are taught that we have an obligation to act with love, compassion and justice towards others. We are commanded to “do justice, love mercy and walk humbly with God.” (Micah 6:8) We are obligated to provide for the stranger, the widow and the orphan; we must love our neighbors as ourselves and avoid doing to others what is hateful to us.

Our Jewish mission is to engage as God’s partner in making this world better – not just for ourselves and our children but for all of humanity, for all time. It is through deeds of loving kindness and acts of compassion and justice that we evolve into better people and better Jews. Tikkun olam helps me make sense of a world in which I often feel confused or overwhelmed by the events in history, whether these events happen in New York, Israel, Baghdad or my own living room. It empowers me with the faith and belief that the choices I make and the things I do can and will make a difference. And while I may not be able to bring about world peace or restore the crashing Stock Market, I can help restore dignity to those in need of food, shelter or medical attention by giving of my time and resources to the many worthy organizations that serve these interests

I do not know what the future holds in store for any of us but what I do know for certain is that if we commit to making the world a better place, through efforts great and small, all of us will be the richer for it. It is a daunting task to be sure but as Rabbi Tarfon said: “It is not your obligation to complete the task of perfecting the world, but neither are you free to desist from doing all you can.”

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