The key to gaining the sensitivity to G-d's role in all of the details of
your life is – trite as it may sound – to simply be in the moment. It's easier
said than done. To be in the moment, you can't recede into the comfort of your
own little reality. You have to be brave, and stay in G-d's reality. This is
what Twelve-Step Programs often call: "Accepting life on life's terms." How many
spiritual experiences have we ignored by being self-absorbed and insensitive to
the perfect job G-d is doing for us every second? As it says in Psalm 118, "This
is the day that G-d has made. Celebrate and rejoice in it."
The Chassidic approach to applying mystical awareness for practical growth
emphasizes the importance of “pnimiyut.” Literally, pnimiyut means
"inwardness." It does not mean introspection, as the translation may imply; but
it refers instead to inwardness as opposed to superficiality. The superficial
person is one who fragments his personality into many different contradictory
facets, who is internally inconsistent, or whose behavior is insincere due to a
lack of inner feeling and depth.
Rabbi Sholom Dov Ber, the fifth Rebbe of Lubavitch, lived in White Russia and
was a leader and a teacher during the turn of the Twentieth Century. He was once
conducting a gathering of his disciples and followers where he discussed deep
mystical concepts for hours. The high point of the gathering was when the Rebbe
would deliver a formal discourse prepared especially for the event. It is
customary that in order to prepare for the revelation of a new and profound
teaching, the crowd sings a special melody to prime themselves for the
discourse. At this particular gathering, the yeshiva students were eager to hear
the Rebbe's teachings and began speeding up the song. The Rebbe admonished the
young men for their display of honest and well-meaning enthusiasm. The entire
point of absorbing Chassidic teachings, he explained, is to develop the trait of
pnimiyut -- to be genuine to the core, and to put one's entire self into
the moment.
Why does it take such a radical shift in thinking in order to enable a person
to live in the moment? Well, for one, being in the moment has some scary
consequences. It means that you open yourself up to something outside of
yourself beyond your control; namely, life. In order to avoid being hurt or
feeling too much, we've learned to seek self-stimulation that can draw us deep
into ourselves and protect us from having to feel too much about things we can't
control. Whether our addiction is drugs, alcohol, eating, inappropriate physical
intimacy, staying late at the office or wasting hours mindlessly surfing the
net, it's all the same. It stems from a fear of vulnerability to life and an
obsessive need for control. Simply put, every addiction is an addiction to self.
To achieve recovery from an addiction is to accept that life is not under
one's control. Indeed, many 12-step meetings open with the Serenity Prayer.
"G-d, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; the courage to
change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference." This acceptance
requires not just coming to terms with one's own powerlessness, but also, coming
to trust in G-d's complete providence. I don't control the world. But G-d does,
and the world is under perfect control, G-d's control. It's okay for things to
be as G-d wants them, not how I want them; and I don't need to escape. When
someone in recovery arrives at this kind of faith, he is able to live in a way
that most "regular" people never dare – living in the moment with complete
vulnerability to G-d’s will.
When recovering addicts speak about taking sobriety "one day at a time," it's
not just a survival skill for breaking up time into manageable chunks. It is a
statement that you are not afraid to live in the moment and the full range of
life's experiences it brings. Being truly alive demands a certain type of
bravery. But by exposing yourself to reality in this way, you are truly exposing
yourself and being vulnerable to G-d. Your life truly becomes an ongoing
intimately personal relationship with G-d.
Another way of describing this trait is the knack for "Respecting the
Process," and being committed to the fact that, as the saying goes, "Time Takes
Time." Have you ever microwaved a potato? How is it? It's okay, right? But it's
not quite the same as a regular baked potato. There's something funny about it.
The skin doesn't get crispy. There's no crunch when you cut into it. It doesn't
taste the same in your mouth.
The difference between the microwaved potato and the good old-fashioned kind
is the difference between artificially rushing the process, and actually going
through it. In our culture of instant gratification, we are so focused on
getting to the payoff that we don't even know what it's like to enjoy the
process. Our motto is: Hurry up and get to the good part; and our prayer: “G-d,
give me patience, and give it to me now!!”
I remember once eating a meal with my grandfather and, upon finishing,
telling him, "I'm done."
"YOU are finished. A CAKE is done," he said.
By artificially accelerating through life and skipping to the payoffs, we may
be "finished," but we definitely are not "done."