Epiphanies on Love

I have been graced with three epiphanies about love recently. 

The first, actually a couple of months ago, was an enormous revelation to me.  A former Deist, I believed God created the world but was not concerned with the lives of those on it. However, because my love  felt so right, I began to wonder if there could be such a thing as a beshert, a soul mate. While studying, I came across the notion that God arranges marriages. I closed the book and my eyes and marveled that my love could have been preordained to marry me before I was even born.  This led to the thought that perhaps God was not present in my painful early relationships because I wasn't with my beshert.  Perhaps the reason I do not waver now is because God Himself is steadying me.  If I am with my beshert, God is a third party in our relationship, invested in our success.  Then the epiphany: if besherts are real, then God must indeed care how we live our lives.

My beshert said he also never believed in soul mates before us. There are times when I am overwhelmed by the happiness and satisfaction I see in his eyes. I am grateful and humbled to please him so much. May it always be so!

The second epiphany was related, but took a long time to flesh out.  My beshert and I sometimes are amazed that we have been allowed to find each other.  My first step towards understanding this spiritually was remembering that we had both lived a secular life for many years.  We began going to synagogue, studying, praying and serving - and then we found each other. 

The sages said that one's first wife was one's beshert and that one's second was given on merit.  If the first wife was not compatible with her husband, even if he were a rabbi who seemed the epitome of perfection, it was because God intended her cross behavior to teach him something.  But if he had the opportunity to marry again, he would be given a more loving wife if he merited her. 

I didn't want to think the first half of that idea was true; I preferred to think our own  poor choices were our own faults because God did not want us to be unhappy.  However, I realized tonight that I have learned much by being unhappy and by not wanting to be unhappy anymore.  About a year and a half ago, my desire to fix my life was so deep that I, who had been a hermit and stuck in my ways, was ready to take action.  I began reading about things Jewish, signed up for classes and did a lot of reflection on my personal relationships.

I had very little experience with love - feeling or receiving it.  I had even less with resolving conflicts.   I never wanted to talk about anything.  But desire to do right overcame habit and fear.  That was the reason I merited this love.  Not perfection, but true desire. 

A few weeks earlier, I told someone it was really uncomfortable to be the guest in a house where the tension between husband and wife is palpable.  Tonight I realized that my understanding of love has changed so I don't look at love the same way I did even a few weeks ago.  Before meeting my beshert, I did not believe love existed.  And then I thought love was rare and that we were very lucky.  Now I understand that everyone can experience love.

In the first few weeks, if things weren't pleasant sometimes, my first thought was, "Why is he doing this to me?"  I heard myself thinking this and stopped myself because I realized that whatever he was feeling was important, too.  This led quickly to realizing I valued his happiness more than my own.  (That sound huge, but it wasn't going quite far enough yet.  A parent, after all, can put the happiness of a child first without necessarily attempting to understand the child's feelings.)  I progressed to knowing that not only did I value his happiness, but that all his feelings had merit and were worthy of respect.  And even if I did not currently understand, I could try to understand.

That is the secret - when we are willing and able to trust thoroughly in the other's good intentions, and to overcome our own hurts and insecurities in order to attend to growing the relationship, then we are able to receive love. 

So if I am a guest in a home where the tension is thick, instead of my old mantra, "This is miserable.  They are miserable and they're making me miserable,"  I hope I will remember that they are capable of finding deep love if they open themselves up to it fully.  This is a much nicer way of reacting to the tension.  It allows me not only to give them the benefit of the doubt, but also to rise above it.

Sometimes rabbis seem to have a non stop flow of unhappy people in their offices.  Once Rabbi Yitz thanked my beshert and me for bringing light into his day.  I thought he had a hard day and was glad we were an enjoyable last appointment for him.  I wondered how he could radiate cheer and love despite the stresses of his job. 

I realized tonight that not only is romantic love available to all, but so is love in all types of relationships. 

A rabbi who thinks "This person is miserable and making me miserable, too" won't last long in his job.  Although a good rabbi may sometimes be troubled by what he sees and hears, his faith that God wants us to be happy allows him to help people without being dragged down by them.  God wants us to choose happiness.   If we open ourselves up to this faith and take the first step towards improving our relationships, He will be there to help us take the second step.

When someone told Rabbi Harold Kushner that kashrut laws were petty restrictions, Kushner answered, "How wonderful it is that God cares what I have for lunch!" 

I am beginning to understand.