Receiving all the Goodness in the World

I was reading a book recommended to me by Avraham Loewenthal, a wonderful Kabbalistic artist in Tzfat, Israel, as well as a Kabbalist in his own right, when I was struck by two particular pieces of information. In Chapter 3 of “In the Shadow of the Ladder” by Rabbi Yehudah Lev Ashlag, the author explains that the Kabbalists believed that God created the world to give pleasure to His creatures. Thus, the purpose behind creation necessitated the creation in the soul of God’s creatures of the will to receive. My own focus on how the Kabbalistic creation story can be used to teach us how to create what we want in our lives made this Kabbalistic teaching of great interest to me.

When we have a desire, inherent in that desire lies the will to receive it. Most people would argue that, of course, we must want to receive what we desire. Yet, so often our desires go unfilled. Why don’t we always receive what we desire? I believe we create mental scenarios where we see ourselves as not good enough to receive what we want. In addition, I believe that our habitual negative thoughts, which tell us we won’t or can’t receive what we want – and offer proof of why this is so, stop us from allowing in what we want. The Kabbalists would agree that what we think is what we create as would such sages as Rebbe Nachman of Bratslov. He taught, “You are where your thoughts are. Be sure your thoughts are where you want to be.”

Esther Hicks, channeling “Abraham,” teaches the “Law of Allowing.” She says many of us don’t “allow in” what we desire. When we think negative thoughts that generate bad feelings, feel negative emotions in general or pine for what we want rather than enjoying the wanting of it, we disallow the fulfillment of our desire. However, when we feel good, we allow what we want to manifest into our lives.

So, how does this relate to the will to receive? The Kabbalists are telling us that it is in our nature not only to desire but to receive that which we desire. God created the world so that we could experience pleasure, so that we could receive those things that make us feel good. And He created within us a huge desire to receive all of those things and the inherent ability to receive them.

In other words, we should want, and we should receive. We are given total permission to receive. What a freeing thought! I have long believed that desire represents a good thing, not a trait that must be shunned within us. I’ve heard the teaching often that one of the primary reasons for our existence lies in creating desires – and fulfilling them. Yet, these teachers say the desire itself remains more important than the fulfillment of that desire.

Now, I see that the most important thing is the actual fulfillment of our desires, the receiving of that which we want. Not only has God given us permission to have what we want, this receiving represents the purpose of our soul.

This begs the question: If we aren’t receiving all the good God’s world has to offer us, if we aren’t manifesting our desires, if we aren’t getting what we want, are we somehow not doing what God wants us to do, what we were created to do? There’s a scary thought…For so many of us, we’ve been taught that we shouldn’t want so much, shouldn’t expect so much. We tell our kids at the store that they can’t have this and that, and they shouldn’t be so greedy or materialistic, when in fact, it is in their nature to be just that. Their souls – our souls – are simply trying to express their nature, which is to receive all the goodness God’s world has to offer. Suddenly we have the freedom to want and to receive whatever our heart desires – a new car, a trip to Europe, financial security, a loving mate, a more fulfilling job, a piece of chocolate cake, a nap, peace, happiness...

Now, I’m not saying to rack up a huge credit card bill while justifying the debt by saying, “God wants me to have all the goodness in the world.” What I am saying is that we have to give ourselves permission to receive all this goodness. We have to be okay with receiving. And that is, for some of us, a tall order, a difficult task.

We have to learn to put aside the old lessons that desire is evil and the negative beliefs about not being good enough to have what we want. We have to stop the self-defeating thoughts that we don’t deserve to have all that we desire and the guilt at having more than others. We have to fulfill our destiny to not be without and to experience good.

Jesus taught this same lesson: He said, “Ask and ye shall receive,” “Ask and it is given,” “Knock and the door will be opened.” Simply ask, in other words, and you will receive, you will be allowed into the realm of answered prayers, manifested desires.

What would that look like, to really be able to receive all that we want, all the goodness the world has to offer? It’s an overwhelming picture…yet a phenomenally appealing one.

I’m left feeling, first, a sense of awe…that this is our “job” – to receive so much good…and, second, a sense of overwhelm…that I must find a way to allow all this good into my life. I must figure out how I block myself from receiving my desires so that I can fulfill God’s purpose in creating the world and his creatures – me, you, all of humanity.

Imagine a world where we had all removed the blocks we have against receiving the goodness of the world! We would be living in heaven on Earth!

Questions of Life and Death...But No Answers

Here I am a week later still struggling with issues of life and death. It’s been a week since I euthanized my dog, Olympia. I still feel the loss...no furry face to greet me each day. I've struggled with the decision my family and I made. Now there are other issues with which I must deal.

I learned last night that a friend’s mother-in-law is on her death bed after more than two years of living with lung cancer that had also metastasized to her spine. She was given less than a year to live. She tried every medical option available to her, including anything experimental treatments that showed promise and alternative therapies. For most of those two years, her quality of life was quite good.

I also learned yesterday that my own father-in-law, who is struggling with the same medical condition – lung cancer that metastasized to his spine, won’t eat, doesn’t look well and does not feel great. He was diagnosed in early fall and given up to two years to live. He has had a back surgery, a radiation treatment and is taking a drug to keep the cancer’s growth at bay. It has been only four months, and I don’t know that I could say with any sort of confidence that he will live the kind of life my friend’s mother-in-law lived for that long.

What’s the difference? I think it is obvious – one wanted to live and the other does not. One was willing to go to any length to improve the quality of her life while managing her disease. She only stopped fighting when she saw the therapies had stopped working. The other has not even been willing to take supplements to help boost his immune system and strength, nor is he willing to make himself eat even though he knows it is necessary.

Now, my dog didn’t know any better. She didn’t feel good, so she didn’t eat. My father-in-law, however, is an intelligent man. He could make himself eat so he would be stronger to fight the cancer.

Maybe he doesn’t want to fight. The dog knew something was wrong, but she didn’t know how to help herself. Maybe she, on some level, knew what she had was incurable – which it was. My father-in-law has an incurable disease as well, yet it can be kept at bay. He could have a good quality of life…I’ve seen this to be true in the stories my friend has told me about her mother-in-law.

To be fair, I should say that I know each situation and each person is different. Maybe my father-in-law’s condition is worse in some way. We won’t know that for a day or two. He goes to the doctor on Monday. The tumors had shrunken from the radiation treatment; maybe they have begun to grow again. We don’t know.

Yet, I wonder…What makes one person fight and another not fight a disease? Does one have more to live for? I can’t say. I do know my father-in-law no longer can play golf or go fishing. I’m not sure if he plays bridge… These are the things he enjoys in life. Maybe he has nothing to live for.

Or maybe, like my dog, he knows the time is close and doesn’t want to push death away. Why do some people cling to life anyway for every moment they can while others simply resign themselves to the inevitable? Maybe one is simply not afraid of death while the other is. Maybe one would rather try to really live a bit longer while the other feels that life was good and now it’s over. I don’t know.

I do know that I believe that we are temporary residents on this earth. By that I mean, that none of us will stay her forever. We are not eternal. Yet, I believe our souls are eternal. We are simply renters in these bodies. When our lease is up, we move out. We don’t die – our souls, that is – but simply move on, probably to agree to a different lease on a new body.

As my family found out with the passing of our dog last Saturday, knowing this, believing this does not mean that we don’t still miss the physical form of the one who has terminated their lease on their physical body. We feel the loss of that physical form that was enlivened with the soul – the essence of the person – for a long time after they have moved elsewhere. This knowledge makes it no easier to cope with the loss of a loved one.

When my father-in-law gets to the place of my friend’s mother-in-law – in a coma simply waiting for the end – we will not have the choice we did with the dog – to courageously (or cowardly) put the animal and ourselves out of our misery, to stop her suffering and our own. We will only be able to watch and wait and anticipate the pain of the person being gone from our physical world.

Maybe we will be able to let him go with love…not clinging for our own sake to his life. Maybe we will be able to feel his soul leave and go to a higher place. I have a friend who experiences death that way and sees it as a beautiful experience. Yet…she missed her mother terribly when she recently died.

So…I can only hope we all find solace in these difficult life and death situations. I have no good advice, no words of wisdom. I remain feeling very introspective, somewhat sad, knowing that death is a fact of life with which we are forced to deal, cope, accept…

On Playing God and Euthanizing Our Family Pet

This weekend I experienced what it feels like to play God. And I didn’t like the role one bit.

When I was told that my 10 ½- year-old Golden Retriever had contracted aggressive, incurable liver cancer, I was faced with a huge decision. I – and my family – had to decide when to euthanize her. The vet told me that if she wasn’t eating and wasn’t happy, it was time.

Well, she had lost about 15 pounds in six weeks, because she wouldn’t eat. I had found a few human foods she liked – ground beef, peanut butter sandwiches, chicken – but even some of these she sometimes wouldn’t eat. Dog food was not an option; she refused to touch it. While she would eat the Greenies she had never been given before, she wouldn’t touch the one treat she had waited for all day – her “chewies” (rawhide chew bones).

As for being happy, my husband said it best: “She hasn’t smiled in a long time.” It was true. For at least the last month, more and more often we had found her laying outside not even picking her head up when we came out the door. She rarely greeted the car anymore wanting the treat she knew I always gave her when I arrived home, and when she did, she wouldn’t eat the milk bones or the special doggie cookies I had recently purchased for her (which initially she thought were fabulous). She had taken to holing up under the deck stairs, a spot she frequented only in the summer when she was very hot. She didn’t jump at the chance to go for a walk. There was no “body wag” when we returned from a six-day trip to New York on New Year’s Eve.

So, after being given the bad news on Thursday we decided that on Saturday we would put her to sleep. I called the vet on Friday and made the appointment.

An hour later the PG & E meter man came – my dog’s favorite person. He brought dog treats. (When we lived in Chicago, everyone, including the garbage men, brought our dog treats. Since moving to a secluded mountain home in California almost five years ago, she has missed these daily and weekly visits from people bearing gifts. When we moved to our new house almost two years ago – also in a secluded mountain area, the PG & E man began coming. Just as her rawhide chewies were the highlight of her day, he was the highlight of her month.) I was just trying to entice her out of her “hole” under the deck with some chicken. Well, when she saw him she wolfed down the chicken and began to smile and do the body wag. She even ate about 30 milk bones (which she wouldn’t eat for me) that he gave her when he found out she wouldn’t be waiting for him next month. He couldn’t believe she had cancer and we were going to have to put her to sleep. I couldn’t believe it either as I watched her.

That night we gave her a wonderful Shabbat dinner. My son, who had cried just one night earlier when we first found out what was wrong with his “sister” and knew she would die soon and again when he tried to get her to eat table scraps and she wouldn’t eat them (the last straw that brought on our decision not to wait but to take her to the vet on Shabbat), likened it to the last meal of a prisoner being put to death. First course, ground beef. Second course, challah (she knows the blessing and comes to the table when she hears motzi). Third course, roast beef, rice pilaf and gravy. She ate it all, and then spent the rest of the evening on the deck with her head between her paws.

The next morning, she had left overs from the night before even thought we saw evidence on her rear end and in the yard that the wonderful meal that she had loved had made her sick to her stomach. We took her for a nice walk – where she again looked so very normal (except when we went up hills, which made her struggle, and happy. And then we went to the vet.

After many tears and my son at her side and me with her head on my knee, the vet gave her a lethal dose of anesthesia and this animal – my buddy – who had moments before been trotting down a path in the local Christmas tree farm looking so alive became a limp rag doll. When I put her head gently down on the blanket upon which she lay and put her paw over her “baby,” a stuffed cow, I couldn’t believe how soft and pliable she was…how quickly and completely dead – because of our decision.

I told my kids and my husband that we should be thankful we were able to make this choice. Only with pets can you choose to put them out of their misery – and to stop yourself from suffering with them. We don’t have to wait until their hearts or other organs fail.

With humans, we don’t have this choice. We are not allowed to relieve our loved ones of their suffering. We cannot choose when they die. We cannot “let them go” when they are sick and unhappy and unable to eat. We cannot pick a time when we know death is inevitable but they still have their dignity and their wits about them. We can’t give them one or two great meals and a walk in nature and then say, “You had a great day. Go on a good note.”

It’s too bad really. Maybe Dr. Kevorkian had the right idea. Yet, he was criticized for playing God…and his “patients” played God as well. Judaism is not too accepting of suicide, and, of course, the actions of Kevorkian and his patients were deemed “assisted suicide.” Maybe we were not meant to choose the time of our death; Judaism, I think, would agree. Death is a fact of life better left in the hands of the Divine who seemingly has a plan for us all…and our pets.

Thank goodness for the ability to choose not to be resuscitated. Without that DNR order, many a good soul who would like to be returned to the Light, to meet his Maker, to become Pure Positive Energy again, to connect with God remains stuck, trapped, in a nonfunctioning body. I wouldn’t want that.

Dr. Kevorkian scared us. We are afraid of playing God – with our own lives or someone else’s life. And maybe that is best. I can’t say that I don’t now live with some guilt about taking my dog’s life. Maybe those hours when she was still happy, still enjoyed her food, were enough. Maybe she would have been happy and comfortable enough to live for a few more weeks or a month. Maybe I made a mistake. This is bad enough when it revolves around a pet; imagine what it would be like around a human. I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t want to go there. I hope every one of my loved ones either has a DNR order or dies in their sleep. I don’t want to be asked if I want to “pull the plug” on another human being.

Just before I actually called the vet and made the appointment to euthanize our dog, a friend sent me an e-mail telling me that animals are very stoic. By the time we know they are in pain, that pain is quite severe. My mother followed suit by explaining that very sick dogs sometimes seem quite normal because they try to do things they have always done. They want to do them, but afterwards they suffer the consequences, feeling sicker than before. I saw that in our dog. I understood. That was what happened when the PG & E guy came…I felt better about my choice -- our choice.

Maybe she was more uncomfortable and unhappy that I knew. Keeping her alive would have just extended her suffering, which would have only gotten worse. And it would have extended our suffering as well. At least now I know she has no discomfort and she is at peace. Only my children, my husband and I have the discomfort of grieving for her and feeling her loss. However, I am not yet at peace with this decision we made.

On the other hand, I believe that animals are so close to the Divine at all times. They come from Pure Positive Energy and return there in less than the blink of an eye. They have no fear of death. They don’t even know what it is. They just move instantly into bliss…and, from what I’m told, reincarnate almost immediately.

My rabbi called me on Sunday night to offer his condolences. He told me that someone recently told him that when human’s die, they are greeted first by their pets. I’ll keep that picture in my mind and in my heart.

And I hope I won’t have another opportunity to play God again any time soon.

(Goodbye, Olympia. You were the sweetest, kindest, most trouble-free dog ever. You were a great pet, a superb companion and a blessing to all who saw your smile. You will be fondly remembered and sorely missed.)

A Bad Case of the Don’t Knows While Living in Limbo Land

I’m not so sure I have anything “Jewish” to say today, but I’m way overdue to post a blog and I could use to vent anyway. I’m stuck in Limbo Land, or, as my best friend Karen likes to call it, the “Don’t Knows.” I guess you could say I’m suffering from the Don’t Knows while living in Limbo Land.

I busted my you-know-what to get my book proposal done by my own deadline. I didn’t want to feel the whoosh of the deadline as it passed by, so I did what it took to get the document off my desk and onto an agent’s desk almost exactly a month ago. Then I revamped my cookbook proposal and sent it off to another agent. And now I’m sitting around waiting to hear…I’d like to say I’m twiddling my thumbs, but it’s not like I’m doing nothing. I check my e-mail boxes often. I deal with “stuff.” I’m in my office all day. Yet, not a lot is getting accomplished.

I could really use some paying work – a book to edit, some magazine article or essay assignments that pay quickly, a column for a newspaper – yet, I’m reticent to take on a big job right now. If – or, let me correct myself – when the agent(s) call to tell me they love my book ideas and want to take me on, I want to be ready to move forward immediately. I don’t want to have to say, “Well, that’s great, but I can’t get started until I finish this project.”

Waiting has caused me to lose momentum. Without such a big deadline hanging over my head, I seem to be so much less motivated and so much less able to get anything done – even the small things like posting an ad at local colleges for an unpaid publicity/marketing intern (Know anyone interested in the job?), writing my overdue newsletter, sending out queries for Passover (Yes…already.) or ordering herbal supplements.

I’ll have to ask Karen, who is writing a book on Don’t Knows, if lethargy and lack of motivation are symptomatic of the Don’t Knows. The agent asked me if, after turning in a proposal, I suffer from “post partum depression” or if I just go on to the next project. I replied, “A little of both,” but I’d have to change that comment if asked again. “Definitely post partum depression,” I’d reply, “with a huge dose of self doubt and lethargy.”

What’s the cure? I know what Karen, also a life coach, would tell me. I know what I’d say to someone if they asked me: “Start work on something else. Or get caught up in getting all the stuff done that you didn’t do while you were focused on the proposal.” In other words: Don’t just sit there; do something. I’ll have to take my own advice.

On top of my work Don’t Knows, I have a pet Don’t Know. My dog has lost 15 pounds and is lethargic (Is this contagious?) and won’t eat (Well, I definitely don’t have that problem…). She’s on an antibiotic that doesn’t seem to be working. The vet said she had a bladder infection. Obviously there is something more serious wrong with her. She has to have a test run on Thursday to see if she has liver disease or some other ailment. I’m, of course, afraid that the test will show something really bad….and…Well, we won’t go there. (My mother already tried to take me to the worst-case scenario, and I really laid into her. You know me, always wanting to think positively, to visualize and feel the outcome I want to create.) In any case, I’m in limbo land with the dog, struggling with the Don’t Knows of her health condition.

So, what’s a results-oriented girl to do? What yesterday’s Kabbalah card told me to do. (I draw a card from the deck each day and then read what it is telling me to do.) I drew the letter “yud,” which served as a call to action. I didn’t take much yesterday, but I have already put myself out there today proposing a column to an e-zine. I’m getting my blog written. I signed someone up to my “preorder list” for my new book. I agreed to speak at a local church, and I will write that ad and send it out to a few schools before the end of the day. Plus, I did make an appointment for the dog to go to the vet for that test on Thursday.

Baby steps. That’s what you have to take when you are moving through Limbo Land while suffering from the Don’t Knows. You have to keep that goal in mind and just keep moving towards it.

And, when you get a little off course – lost in the e-mail box or in front of the refrigerator – you “trim tab.” That’s the term used by aviators. They say airplanes are off course 99% of the time. The pilots continually trim tab, or put their aircraft back on course. In this way the end up at their final destination, zooming down the runway and coming to a dead stop at the airport terminal.

I’ve been off course, I think, for the last week and a half. Time to trim tab. Time to set a course for my goal – out of Limbo Land and towards a published book or two – and to begin navigating towards that goal once again.

Anyone want to come along? Don’t know? No problem. Just climb aboard, and I’ll take you to my destination (and yours) -- Certainty! Let’s take off…one step at a time.