On Despair

Someone asked me about my Mamad status and Mental State for research purposes. I told her, no mamad, we go to the miklat across the street. Husband takes the big kids, I take the baby and a carrier when I have time. Correction: I always bring the baby, but the carrier is contingent on time.

Mental State: Back and forth between Maniacal Laughter and What-is-going-on-Confusion. But, we don’t have time for despair, so that’s good.

In general, I am not one for despair, but I can see the appeal. 

We have a Rav who told us that despair is only acceptable on Thursday nights to avoid interfering with day to day operations. This reminds me of when I worked in high/low stakes settings that would be considered “toxic” by today’s influencer standards, but at the time was merely “resume building” as my successful extended family advised. Neither parties are right or wrong on the matter, but that is a tale for another day. For our purpose, I wish to explore my coping tool: I scheduled blocks in my shared calendar called “Development Coaching.” 

Sounds useful, right? This was a time reserved for crying in the bathroom without interfering with my efficiency. What actually happened was that the calendar notification would pop up, and if I wasn’t feeling sad enough to cry in the bathroom, I’d either go back to work uninterrupted or walk around the block with a bluetooth on my ear and randomly nod, acting like I was having a coaching session in case my boss walked by. During the period of my workday that I wanted to cry in the bathroom, I checked my calendar. If it wasn’t my scheduled “Development” time, I pinched myself and said, “You aren’t scheduled for a meltdown, suck it up.” For the most part, I was able to continue my day and I never actually cried in the bathroom during the allotted time.  

That is what Thursday Night does for me. I just don’t despair with the same energy as I would if I did it on schedule. Healthy? Maybe not. Amusing, yes. 

According to the movie version of Marilla Cuthbert from Anne of Green Gables by L. M. Montgomery, “To despair is to turn one’s back on [Gd],” which given the context, a protestant community on Prince Edward Island during the late 19th century, it makes sense, though a bit intense.

The French origin of the verb “esperer” : “to hope” helps us to understand why the definition by Merriam webster indicates:

Despair

Noun

a: utter loss of hope

If we have faith in Hashem, are we allowed to lose hope? Can one have hope without faith? Are they the same thing? 

I received a refrigerator magnet from Chabad about Bitachon. It gives straightforward examples where demonstrating Bitachon creates a sense of wholeness and peace for the doer. 

I happen to think that Marilla Cuthbert could get in on the bitachon concept. Not to say that a protestant work ethic should be the standard, but the value of hope that may or may not be derived from faith is one that needs to be demonstrated, not just thought about. 

Jews have a lot to do.  We demonstrate our faith by following mitzvot and the torah happy types (orthodox, dati, haredim, etc) follow halacha (think, rules for keeping mitzvot). As a tribal people, there is also an inherited aspect. The reason this works is because observance of mitzvot gives not only the individual strength, but also strength for generations. It is a practical expression of demonstrating faith to actually create faith and hope. In essence, you can limit the possibility of loss of hope when you are following mitzvot. 

During this iteration of war with Iran (IRGC), we have had Purim chaos / fun, followed by Pesach Prep, followed by Pesach observance. Whatever comes next is out of our hands, but for now, I am letting my kids roam in the park while my husband does haagalah in our tiny kitchen. Then I am going to tin foil the food prep counters and source chad paami from neighbors, since I have no pesach dishes and I have run out of cash. But not hope. Because I don't have time for Despair.

Other thoughts on Despair inspired by L.M. Montgomery :

Yours truly to Anne:

"I'm quite sure that I can eat, Anne. And I don’t need your lip, thank you very much."

So, Sprkly Ladies, my Pesach bracha for you all: May your life be so full that there is no time to despair. Because freedom means more than easy manna every morning... Sometimes it involves the bread of affliction. It's up to you how you serve it up.

Chag Sameach, b'teavon.