This Week: A Season of Planting
Planting seeds (metaphorical and otherwise) requires trust. Which can be really damn hard.
Dear family and friends,
As I’m writing this letter, Sarah Jarosz’ buttery voice fills my dreary office with something like comfort. With my right foot, I’m rocking Baby in her bouncy chair. My coffee is cold, though not intentionally, the sky is very gray, and things don’t feel super hopeful.
For the past while (months? years? what is time?) my wife and I have been scrambling to get our footing. That’s not to say that we never get it together, but it’s definitely an ebb and flow situation. We find stability, only to get knocked over again. We clamber to our feet, and suddenly the metaphorical rug beneath us is gone again—a lost job or two, a flooded house, a kid in crisis, a new baby, and on and on. We’re constantly breathless.
My therapist claims that this is what life as parents of young kids just is, but I’m not so sure. Is it really supposed to be so hard?
I joked with my wife this week that we’ve been taking turns asking if it’s all gonna be ok and reassuring one another. Truth is, though, who the hell knows? Even if I had a steady job (I don’t), or she had a steady job (she doesn’t) or we knew where we were going to live soon (we’re trying to find a house to buy. It’s a whole thing), there’s still so much that’s not in our control. A possible recession, for example, or a socio-political crisis. Just off the top of my head.
These thoughts have been circling like buzzards in my mind all week, and I’m pretty sure they would have overtaken me if not for some truly sweet moments. Like Big Kid kissing Baby on the head and whispering, “I love you,” into her surprised moon of a face. Or the spontaneous walk we took around the neighborhood, during which we found the robin’s egg pictured above. Or the sound of Baby’s babbling; this week she suddenly has so much to say! Or a message from an old friend, saying something I wrote held meaning for her. The sunflower seeds and pineapple I planted with Big Kid last week sprouting up.
Each year, Jews read the whole Torah1 from start to finish, portion (or parsha) by portion. Last week, we read Achrei Mot Kedoshim, which is the portion I chanted at my Bat Mitzvah back in 1998. It’s a double portion, meaning that it’s actually two sections of Torah stuck together. The Jewish calendar is a complicated combination of both lunar and solar calendars, with each year a little bit different and the whole system evening out every 19 years. Most years we read double portions several times a year, and on leap years (the ones with a whole extra month) they get broken up.
The word Kedoshim literally means Holy Ones and the text is pretty much an elaborate list of commandments one should follow in order to be holy. And why should you aspire to be holy? The reason is repeated 16 times in the first 37 verses: because I am the Lord your G-d.
Initially, this didn’t feel super satisfying to me, as reasons go. It’s kind of like a parent saying you should do something because they said so. Who cares? I want to understand.
In my own parenting journey, I try to explain things to Big Kid, insofar as that’s possible. You must wear pants outside because it’s too cold for walking around in underwear. We can’t build a spaceship that actually flies to the moon because I am not a NASA engineer. You know, that kind of stuff.
Sometimes, though, I just need him to trust that I know what’s what. After answering 47 million jillion questions that start with “why?” before 9:00 am, sometimes the answer is kakha — because. Just trust me.
There’s a duality to this. As the adult, I need to maintain my trustworthiness if I want him (and, eventually, Baby) to trust me when I ask them to do so. I also can’t abuse the non-answer card; I should explain when possible2 and be frank about the times when I just don't know the answer. Big Kid's job is to trust.
That sounds like less work, but it’s not. After all, I’m having a helluva time trusting G-d to give me the strength I need to see me through this confusing time. My wife and I are planting and planting and planting seeds for our future as a family. Trusting that at least some of them will grow feels impossible sometimes.
But it’s my job to trust. To look back and see, has G-d3 looked out for me in the past? Sometimes yes, sometimes no. But when I'm in tune with myself and trying to be my most authentic self, mostly yes4. So, sure, there's plenty I don't understand. Hell, every day it seems the news is full of things I mostly don't understand5. All I can do is keeping seeking answers, keep trying to be the me-est me I can be, and keep trusting.
Sending you wishes for new seedlings and sprouts.
Shabbat Shalom,
Mikhal
Upcoming Dreams of Chaos
This week I chatted with Mor Cohen—actor, producer, director, and all around fascinating person based in Austin, TX—and Understood.org’s Dr. Andrew Kahn—psychologist and ADHD expert based in Bangor, ME. Paid subscribers will get to enjoy these conversations as much as I did! I hope you consider upgrading to a paid subscription so you can read these and more Dreams of Chaos Q&As in the weeks and months to come.
For Listening
As I hinted above, Sarah Jarosz has my heart this week. May I recommend pairing her 2020 album World on the Ground with a mug of peppermint tea or an Old Fashioned. Big Kid is really into this a capella cover of his second favorite song, which really is very good.
For Reading
I read Rabbi Abby Chava Stein’s memoir Becoming Eve this week in just about one sitting. Rabbi Stein is a brilliant thinker, a powerful speaker, and an inspiring activist, among other descriptors, and this book is very well written. Stein manages to write with clarity and focus despite the necessary explanations regarding specifics of the Hassidic community. Her story is one of self-realization, of strength, of love. I wholeheartedly recommend this book to anyone who likes reading memoir.
I also enjoyed this essay about hoping when all hope is lost by
, published yesterday in and this essay about the magic of writers connecting with one another by in .The Pentateuch, or the Five Books of Moses
i.e. when I have the bandwidth to do so.
or the Divine, or the Universe, or the Shekhina, or whatever word you feel good about.
Tfu tfu tfu
More on that in next month’s Chaos in the Wild, so stay tuned.