“R’eih;” Seeing Blessings within Curses

Who’s to say and how do we know what’s a blessing and what’s a curse...if we can allow ourselves to ask the question, so taboo? Especially when people are suffering: “How dare you say that what I’m going through might be a blessing?” 

Like the story of a man who has mishap after mishap in his life. In a long line of curses and condolences, his son finally breaks his leg. Yet a war breaks out shortly, and the only young man who isn’t hauled off is the one with the broken leg. A curse is turned into a blessing.

Does it come down to the way we look at things? The way we “see”? 

The title of this week’s Torah reading, and the very first word, is R’eih: See: A commandment. 

Last week, I said that the world requires us to live with our eyes wide open. The reality is a painful sight: Coronavirus, illness, death, unemployment, homelessness, deportation, our president, earthquakes, hurricanes, no electricity, explosions...

How could any of this ever be a blessing? Isn’t it much more realistic--aren’t we seeing more clearly--when we talk about how horrible everything is? My depressive father used to say with a little chuckle, teasing himself a bit, “Those who are depressed see the world as it really is. Those who aren’t, are delusional.” There’s even a psychological term for it: Depressive Realism. 

What a depressing time we’re in. It seems that finally, more and more people are seeing the world as it really is.  Should we say “yay” to that?  It feels scary and cruel to state; The pandemic has been a curse, for sure, yet so many blessings have come out of it. 

It was a curse to get sick and live in fear of losing my husband, and to continue to suffer the after-effects of Corona, yet a blessing to be able to see a clear path in a different direction, directly caused by the suffering. This new vision has allowed for an opening of space for new things to happen, creating something new for myself and separating from toxic relationships.

It’s a curse not to be able to gather and sing together in our communities, yet it’s been a blessing to be able to explore other communities far away--because of the internet--that thing we’ve said was also a curse. 

Not being able to see family and friends feels like a curse, yet it has made certain bonds stronger and deeper on a new level, especially with my children. 

Our curse of a president has brought the blessing of forcing so many people out of complacency--seeing more clearly what needs to be done in the world and acting on it. 

The other day, after hurricane Isaias hit, I went walking in Central Park. As I passed one of my favorite spots, what I like to call “my meadow,” I saw that one of my favorite trees had been ripped out of the ground from its roots.  It’s a spot I discovered in the spring when I was beginning to recover from COVID, with a beautiful ground covering underneath, a spot I chose to practice yoga and Qi Gong--a healing place for me. Surrounded on one side by very tall trees, it seemed highly unlikely to be a target of the hurricane winds, so low. Yet there it lay languishing on its side, its wide bushy branches spread out and leaning on the ground. I went over to it and touched its branches and cried.

In this week’s Torah reading, the bible tells us to destroy all the sites where other gods have been worshiped, whether on mountaintops or under luxurious trees. What a strange thing to imagine; altars under luxurious trees? Mountaintops? Sure. But under luxurious trees? Why luxurious?

It seems clear that we are to leave the tree alone and just destroy the false gods and altar, but it still felt sad as I thought of the destruction of this favorite little tree in a spot that felt incredibly luxurious in this big, hot city full of concrete where I’m stuck because of the pandemic.

The injunction is a continuation of last week’s parsha; walk in the way of God, a One God of Unification, not many gods separate from each other and us; wake up to the fact that all of life is connected; live with humility, not arrogance; know the source of the abundance in your life, for it is not your own hands that created it; know that this earth is a gift and treat it as such. 

Is it unrealistic to see the blessings in the curses? Is it unrealistic to think that we can change the world--even after all this? Perhaps. But I’d rather be delusional and live with hope and belief that we can change the world, as Rabbi Michael Lerner, author of Revolutionary Love, A Political Manifesto to Heal and Transform the World, among other revolutionary works, says. I’d rather believe in the infinite possibility of transformation. That is God to me: the possibility of transformation for the whole world, even with the pain. 

Maybe there is a blessing in the fall of that beautiful little tree. Maybe it has made space for something else that I can’t yet see.