DBT and Judaism(Part 4): Matzah, Yom Kippur, and Avoiding Black and White Thinking

One of the quintessential ideas of Judaism is that nothing is black and white, everything is complicated. Matzah is both the bread of affliction and the bread of freedom. On Yom Kippur, we both atone for our sins and rejoice over the fact that we will be forgiven. On one of the happiest days, one's wedding day, we smash a glass to remember the destruction of the temple.

As our Rabbi was listing these examples and saying that we need to learn to hold conflicting ideas in our heads at the same time, a connection dawned on me: the first thing that they teach you in DBT(Dialectical Behavioral Therapy) is to avoid black and white thinking in order to keep our emotions in line and avoid obsessive thinking patterns. We are taught to stop labeling something as just sad or just happy. We are taught to avoid the words always and never and to take things just for what they are, complicated. And there is nothing more complicated than Judaism. Judaism forces us to hold both the pain and suffering of our people's past as well as the joy for the present and future in our heads. 

And maybe that's why Judaism helps me. We are reminded so often (and this is not accidental) that there is good and bad, happy and sad in everything. There is no holiday that includes no remembrance or at least twinge of pain. Most of our holidays revolve around the saying, "they tried to kill us, we won, let's eat." Even leading up to Purim, one of the most joyful holidays of the year, on Shabbat Zahor, we read about the Amalakites, a people who we are both instructed to remember and to drive out from the land, a violent precursor to the joy and partying that is involved with Purim. 

Judaism, as well as DBT, teaches us that we must hold happiness and sadness in our hearts simultaneously and be okay with it. We must remember the slavery, but be thankful for the freedom; We must celebrate our Simchas(weddings, birthdays, b'nai mitzvah), but remember that they will not last forever. Our brains are certainly capable of this, even though we don't generally put in the effort needed to do it. We can hold these ideas together in our minds. And we should. It's the healthier thing for everyone.

Yom Kippur: What am I Returning to Anyways?

I've been struggling a lot leading up to Yom Kippur this year. I've been remembering my study sessions in the Youth Lounge at my synagogue and missing my Beth Emet family, and I've been anxiously worried about my lack of control over the future. So through all of this mess of thoughts, I think I have pinpointed just the thing about Yom Kippur that is making me feel this way:

I find that every day for me is Yom Kippur. Every single day I go over my mistakes and thing about what I've done wrong. And every day I am hard on myself, so I've been asking myself this week, as I get more and more anxious leading up to the holiday(which begins tonight), is how can I make Yom Kippur more meaningful for me and also not let it destroy me. Let's take these things one at a time: I think that the liturgy of YK is still meaningful regardless of whether I am fasting or doing anything else, and this is the one day when all Jews are commanded to think seriously, so I have something in common with them which can also make the experience more meaningful.

How do I keep from spiraling down into a bad mental place on YK? This is a question I don't actually have an answer to. Teshuvah can be translated as return, but what am I returning to? Returning to my past self? But I'm not proud of who I used to be. So where am I returning to? I am returning to a more spiritual state, and in a way a state that is exactly the opposite of YK: a state of self acceptance and self care. And I realize that this isn't the original point of the holiday, however, this is what it is for me, and I think that's okay. And it's okay that I'm eating. And it's okay to not be okay, especially on this holiday.