My Orthodox Life

 B"H

It seems that Netflix has brought up a need to point out that many Orthodox Jewish women love their Jewish lives and were not G-d forbid abused, repressed, etc.  I thought I'd add my perspective to the genre, as someone who is generally not overflowing with good feelings and enthusiasm.  You see, I have fairly significant depression and anxiety.  So I don't experience my Orthodox Jewish life as overflowing with abundant joy, as some of my co-religionists do.  Also, many people have mentioned the great meaning they take from being mothers.  I am not a mother, which is a bit unusual in Orthodox Jewish circles.  But I still think that Orthodox Judaism is best for my life.  Let me tell you why.

Enough light has reached me through the study of Judaism over the years that even on days when I can't see the light, I know that it is there.  My complaint has changed from, "Why is life so meaningless?" in my earlier, more secular life, to, "Why does a meaningful life feel so far away from me right now, and how can I find it again?"  Anyone familiar with the tenets of the growth mindset can see that the latter question gets me much further than the former.  The latter question believes in something.  The former is lost.  In fact, I would attribute all of the work and self-care I have done over the last two days to the question, "...how can I find it again?"  

Believing in meaning is a game changer.  Another game changer is believing in G-d.  My orthodox Jewish practice provides me with dozens of practical opportunities daily to remember about G-d and G-d's perspective.  Which is considerably more enlightened than my own.  It is deeply comforting to know that, while I don't know why I feel the way I do, Someone has a plan.  Now, being human, I don't catch a noticeable whiff of G-dliness every time I say a blessing.  Prayer is not easy, nor always a relief.  But, like self-care, I give it the space to happen.  

Remember Winnie the Pooh?  Who said that a hum is not a thing you get; it's a thing that gets you, and the most you can do is go where it can find you?  Practicing Judaism gives me places to go where my awareness of G-d can find me.

Orthodox Jewish communities are typically tight-knit, with members often working, praying, celebrating, eating, and recreating together.  I'm in that world.  One tiny thing that is going right in a big way for me is that I can easily stop by a friend's house.  That's right, I live walking distance from several friends whom I can just drop in on.  I never had this in my former secular life.  Plans always had to be made.  But being depressed, plans are quite a hurdle.  Thanks G-d my tiny bit of social energy isn't burdened by plans!

I also benefit socially from the rituals and expected social norms in my community.  When I go to Sabbath prayer services, I know that nothing is required socially beyond "Good Shabbos."  I know I can go to a celebration, find the principals, say "Mazal tov," and then scoot if my anxiety is acting up.  Even if someone starts a --gulp-- conversation, it is easy to respond with the following formulae:

1. "How are you?"  Answer: Baruch Hashem!  (Blessed is G-d!)  No personal information was required in this interaction, yet it is a full and appropriate response.

2. "This (fortunate thing) is happening to me!"  Answer: Baruch Hashem!  May it be only blessings!

3. "This (unfortunate thing) is happening to me."  Answer: May we see revealed blessings very soon!

4.  (All other comments)  Answer: Ah.  Oh.  (Okay, that's my own, not a Jewish thing.)

Knowing what is expected, and that the ritual words are expressions of sincerity, makes it easier for me to function.  I don't have to second-guess what I said or wonder how awkward I was.

A third major reason that orthodox Judaism works for me as a depressed person is that I don't have to like how things are going.  We believe that we are still in exile from our eventual homeland, and from the era of the Messiah.  Why should things be exactly right?  We're headed in the right direction, but we're not there yet.  This belief cuts down significantly on my cognitive dissonance.  If I see things in the world, whether my own world or the larger world, as being messed up, I'm not necessarily wrong!  But most importantly, I can make a difference in putting things to rights.  

Every act of goodness and kindness counts.  Sometimes the smallest, seemingly insignificant thing, or a seemingly selfish thing, can make all the difference to someone else.  I've experienced this personally, to the point that even my "moaning and complaining" sessions over the course of six months turned out to be the thing that kept someone else afloat.  We never know.  G-d knows, we never know!  And not knowing is a great comfort.  If it had to make sense to me now, I'd come to some dismal conclusions.  But I can not like it and know that I don't see the whole picture yet.  I call that faith.  Not the pretty sort of faith with butterflies and angel wings.  It's a tough, stringy faith.  It's faith while wading in swamp mud.  But it works down here where I live sometimes.  And that's better than anything I've found before.