Where I've Been

My friends, thank you for your lovely responses to what I’ve written. And it’s been a while since I’ve written. On 13 October, I had the privilege of being given a new right shoulder, and yes, it’s been a long ride, and yes, I’m grateful for the creators and surgeons that made this possible.

Whether it’s the anaesthesia or the process of healing, it’s affected my mind. This part is scary. No dreams, and while I can think, I have little desire to write or create. This dislocates my identity and I don’t want to spend a lot of time focusing on it.

So here is what I’m doing. I’m spending time with my influencers who are no longer on the planet. This morning I listened to my teacher, Harold Schulweis. When I’m watching him, he is as alive as when I sat in his congregation at 25 and had my life changed by his brilliance, courage, and, most important, an interest in me. Because he met with me each time I began a new Jewish book, wrote a letter of recommendation for rabbincal school, and listened when my marriage broke, I came to believe in myself.

I could write many books about what I learned from my rav. He taught that it’s not enough to read and know; you must add your sentence to it. He was open to new ideas, shifted from the purely philosophical to recognizing temperament as an equal influence, and sold God to thousands.

I have one little story that gives a glimpse of his openness, his sense of humor, and his kindness. I requested a meeting with him in 1986 to tell him why I left my husband: I’d fallen in love with a woman. He’d known me since my children were named in his synagogue. At the High Holidays a few months later, he spoke about homosexuality not as choice and that the community must not exclude them. Whether our conversation had anything to do with it, I don’t know.

What I remember is this: as we walked out of his office, he put his hand on my shoulder and said, “You know, Malka, the people in the shul are lovely, nice people, but a little narrow. You are expansive.” What a generous framing of a 40 year-old woman turning her life upside down and seeing it as revolution.

When I moved away from the synagogue, we spoke before the High Holidays, and we’d ask each other what we were going to talk about. I remember his sermons as spiritually audacious, fresh, and brave. The last time we spoke, he ended with, “Go get’em, baby!” I always tried.

Rabbi Schulweis’ hand remains on my shoulder, one of my angels and heroes. It’s a pleasure to hear him speak and to remember him Who is your hero?