Forgive a little

It's that word that scares me, that brings on a headache, and makes me nauseous all at the same time. Teshuva. Elul. I keep saying, 'I hate this time of year', but unfortunately, in this world we live, you must say what you mean and mean what you say, and that just doesn't 'fly' with the 'people'. So what do I really mean when I say that?

That I dread it. It's hard to face your problems, admit to wrongdoings, and own up to it. But hardest of all is to fix it. 'Admitting that you have a problem is half of the solution.' Yes, but it's the easier half by far.

I went to a farbrengin last night, for the girls in my seminary. A mini reunion of sorts. The Rabbi who farbrenged was a teacher of ours, who was in town for a bit. The topic of discussion was that: Teshuva. What is it, how do you do it, etc.

The gist of it was like this: we are humans, we sin naturally. We don't want to, because if we knew the effect it had on our relationship to G-d, we wouldn't even think about it. But of course, while we are sinning, our minds are a bit preoccupied. But then afterward, we regret it. G-d gave us a numbing technique, called forget. Something happens, it hurts, you don't want to remember it, so your mind forgets it, to numb the pain. Does that mean it's gone? Maybe, maybe not. But with a sin, if you regret it, you promise not to do it again, then that's pretty much all you can do.

There were once two bochurim walking by the banks of a river. One was a Chossid, one was a Misnagid. They heard screams, and saw that a lady was drowning in the river. The problem was, she was fully naked. They hesitated a second, these pure bochurim contemplating what to do, then the chossid took off his jacket, and jumped in to save her. He had to grab hold of her, her unclothed body in his arms. And once they were on the banks of the river, he had to administer cpr, and maker sure she was ok. Then they continued on their way, in silence.

They walked for two hours straight, and both bochurim were clearly dazed after what happened. Suddenly, the misnaged turned to the chossid and said, 'how did you do it? How were you able to touch her in that way?' And the chossid answered him, 'the difference between me and you is, I forgot about that girl the second we left her behind by the river. But you, you are still thinking about it, and she was walking beside you the whole time.'

This is essentially what teshuva is. We regret, we feel bad, we do what we have to, and then we move on. We forget. Because that's all we can do.

Kesiva Vachasima Tova, may we all merit a fulfilling Rosh Hashana, with lots of prayers and tears. And may we be zoche to see the coming of Moshiach right now, before Rosh Hashana!