When beginnings and endings collide
It has taken me until the first week of school was finished, but I can now say with confidence that I am excited about this year, and all it has to bring. My last first week of class just ended, and even just typing that short sentence makes me emotional on many levels. All summer, people have been asking me if I’m excited for the school year to start, to be in my final year — to be that much (significantly) closer to officially becoming a rabbi. The answer was a hesitant yes. Of course I’m excited about this last leg of this piece of my journey, but it is extremely bittersweet. Not having my mom be there to witness, shep naches (that’s be obnoxiously proud in public, in Yiddish), buy me whatever present she had in mind for my graduation, take a million pictures of me, the fam, my class, my teachers — and, on a more serious note, share in this success in my life that I owe hugely to her — is beyond tough. And, it was even tougher before I could conceive of what this school year would look like.
My classes this year are *surprise surprise* filled with a lot of self-reflection, self-assessment, and work toward self-awareness and improvement. I, *surprise surprise* love this stuff. Give me two and a half hours to think about how I’m doing, what I’ve done well, where I need to grow, and how to go about achieving all it — and you basically have my blog, amirite? But seriously, these classes and internship are about gaining experience, analyzing that experience, and using it to glean as much as we can about what life as a rabbi will be before we jump into the water. I feel ready, honestly. Not in a “I know exactly what I’m doing” kind of way, but in a “I’m sure I’ll make countless mistakes and learn from them, but that’s what the first year of a new job is like” kind of way. As the end of my high school announcements used to say:
Learning is a life-long process. Make your education a priority.
It’s very weird and nerdy that I remember that, seeing as I never gave the high school announcements, but I’m sure my subconscious will delve into that in my dreams later. Anyway, I’m sure I was making a point: the learning process for being a rabbi, or anyone or career, should never end. There is endless Jewish literature, and there are endless life lessons and experiences. Rabbinical school gives a solid jumpstart, or perhaps running start, into those, to be successful out in the world. At least for me, I don’t want to speak to other people’s journeys.
So, now, when people ask if I’m excited, I can truly say yes. It is going to be bittersweet every step of the journey, surely. But I have been working toward this for a long time, and I have hurdled through unimaginable obstacles to get there, and I can say with confidence that I am proud of myself. This first week was triggering as well as exhilarating, because I think back to where I was emotionally and mentally this time last year. There is no comparison between the two: last year I was sitting shiva and then moving into an empty apartment. Now, I can see how I have moved forward, incrementally, and I can also see how much healing is still ahead of me. In a conversation with one of my most trusted and reliable teachers and mentors yesterday, we talked about how psychologically the grief process is more like three years. The Jewish mourning period is one year, and my mom’s first yahrzeit (Jewish calendar anniversary of death) is next week. That does not mean the grieving is over — far from it. It does mean that I can mark this first chapter, and continue to move forward with my grief, with my mom’s memory and essence surrounding me, with a lot more of myself feeling sunk in.
What do I mean my that last phrase? That in grieving, while living and moving forward with my trajectory, I have found my self — again, and also anew. Part of who I was before will never be there again, but new parts of me are coming through the woodwork. So, yes, I am pumped for this last year of school — to explore this “me,” and to move (surprisingly quickly) toward reaching this achievement, toward the blessings and challenges of more life.
