My mind is all over the place this week.

First, it was Tisha B’Av starting Monday night into Tuesday. “The saddest day in the Jewish calendar” as it commemorates the destructions (twice) of the Temple in Jerusalem.

More of a “holy day” or an "observance” rather than a “holiday.” Sitting on the floor, with candles to light the way, listening as the Book of Lamentations is chanted using a particularly beautiful and mournful melody.

Since I don’t pray for the rebuilding of the Temple, I usually have a hard time with this holiday. In fact, this very theme kept re-emerging; do we in fact want to return to the days of old? (Not really. Not when it comes to animal sacrifice as a Jewish practice, nor in any other way. Plus, Judaism went through a paradigm shift with the destruction, becoming more egalitarian—at least for men.)

But this year felt especially poignant, what with wildfires, heavy rains, thunderstorms, ongoing wars.

So much destruction. So much pain. So much healing needed.

Many religious Jews believe that the reason the Temple was destroyed was God’s punishment; the Israelites were not following the commandments, Personally, I don’t subscribe to such beliefs…(but were we? are we? what does that even mean?).

The holiday is bookmarked by two Torah portions that involve Moses reviewing the past forty years of the Israelites’ trek through the desert.

Yet again, two weeks—two times—in a row, Moses blames the people for God not allowing him to cross over into the Promised Land. This week begins with Moses repeating the same accusation; it’s the people’s complaining and lack of faith that caused it; “God is punishing me because of you!”

But the truth is, it’s Moses’ own fault.

Twice, he refuses to take responsibility for his actions, and re-members the past; the truth is, Moses is being punished for the time God told him to speak to a rock in order to draw water from it, and instead he struck the rock.

When is violence called for—if ever—and when should people sit down and talk things out?

We can talk about responsibility on a personal level…or on a worldwide level, as in governments continuing to make decisions that destroy the environment by neglect, or deliberate ongoing bombing, starvation, or expulsion (too many examples, sadly).

Of course, nations are made up of individuals: individuals who make choices.

Personally, I spent the better half of a week with my head spinning with personal responsibility.

It all started after publishing my blog last week.

One innocuous comment from someone who was taking care of the feelings of another person—out of love, I know—trying somehow to protect them from past hurt or help repair it.

This led me into a destructive place of second-guessing myself. (Or was it more like torturing myself?)

The question was, did I reveal too much? About whom? Might someone get hurt? Or be offended? Who did I need to protect? Had I done a good enough job?

From my place of self-flagellation, I called a rabbi/teacher-now-friend for help.

I learned that my style of writing has a name. Or at least belongs to a genre of telling personal stories that end with a take-away lesson.

This friend reminded me that I was inspired to write the way I do, like what I wrote last week, because of Rachel Naomi Remen, author of Kitchen Table Wisdom and My Grandfather’s Blessing.

They are not pretty stories, but they are real and sometimes heartbreaking.

Each one touched me deeply, and left me inspired.

This is because I could see myself in them.

As challenging as it might be, this is an opportunity to look deep inside and ask some difficult questions.

While protecting the identity of those I include in my stories, my goal is always to offer an opportunity for healing to my readers, but in this case, at least in one instance, I did the opposite.

(Though as far as Mr. Sleazy from last week is concerned, if he happened to see my blog (negative-zero-percent chance), maybe it would be a good thing for him to learn how he has hurt and violated others, including me!)

When it comes to personal responsibility, we can only do our best, and sometimes we get it wrong.

In the Torah reading this week, we are reminded to follow the commandments.

In a nutshell, we just have to try and be good people.

May we all (including politicians) approach the world and the choices we make with great care and a strong sense of personal responsibility.

And when we get it wrong, may we be able to forgive ourselves and others.

And if you’re like me, may we learn to be gentler with ourselves and with others when we misstep.