Making Like a Turtle
Lately I've wished I could hide in my shell.
For quite a while, I was on a Substack streak, posting without fail every week. So where have I been? Well, I stuck my head out of my turtle shell, saw the state of the world, and have been hiding in my portable home ever sense.
JK!
But seriously, it’s partly true. I’ve been AWOL mostly because my schedule has been packed, work as a congregational rabbi has been satisfying but exhausting, and my personal life has had its challenges.
But the backdrop to everything has been the constant, anxiety-provoking flood of shocking news. I don’t know what to write about first. Heck, I don’t know whom to call first. Should I check how my friends my hometown of San Antonio, who are coping with historic floods? Call my daughter in Minnesota where a political assassin was on the loose?
I called her, and also family in Israel running to bomb shelters as Iran retaliates on civilians. (Was the attack on Iran’s nuclear facilities necessary, reckless, or both? Above my pay grade to analyze but there must be an alternative to endless war and conflict.) I add the scenes of missile destruction in central Israel to the ongoing war and suffering in Gaza, the promising, vibrant young people killed on both sides, and the unknown fate of the remaining hostages.
The news continues like a bad infomercial: “But wait; there’s more!” Here in the US, we’ve had series of horrendous antisemitic attacks—arson at a Jewish governor’s residence one state over, a young couple murdered at a Jewish event in DC (one state over), a peaceful gathering in a town I often visit attacked with firebombs—and barely hearing from any non-Jewish allies. (And I must stop reading the news comments with people hating on or blaming the victims.)
Our country is seriously divided, vulnerable people (refugees, migrants, trans youth) targeted, democracy imperiled. Family and friends are impacted by smoke and floods, but what happened to climate action?
Sometimes I feel like making like a turtle and hiding in my shell.
However, that isn’t an option. Like the old joke of the kid who wants to stay in bed because school is so stressful, until Mom pulls off the covers and says, “You have to go to school. You’re the principal!” I remember that I’m a rabbi and people are looking to me to be the “non-anxious presence,” uplift them, give them hope. I need to stay centered and poke my head out of my shell long enough to share my support, and prayers, and the resilient resources of community and tradition.
How are you coping these days? How do you know where to focus?
I loved this. I’m going to use some of your thoughts as inspiration for our lay chaplaincy team! We always need one another to uphold our own strong centers as we weather whatever comes our way. Turtles are a great metaphor- their shells are a protective exoskeleton, and so part of who they are. We can have our emotional /spiritual shelters within our human framework. Spending time there will only make us stronger once we’re ready to poke our heads and peer out into the world again.