We couldn't manage a family vacation in the mountains this year as respectable homeowners do, but we did succeed in going on a short couples' getaway. Therefore, I thought of writing about the experience and thereby extending the vacation, at least in spirit or imagination.
Well, it is well-known in our family that I love water very much. Small or large waterfalls, rushing and quiet stream channels, and especially lakes. A lake broadens my soul greatly, and in Switzerland, which is rich in lakes, if the lake is located somewhere at the height of the Alps, how wonderful and pleasant it is since the soul expands from the altitude, the expanse, and the beauty, and all the ‚Ma Rabu Maasecha,' which is amplified, doubled, and tripled. But alas, I do not always reach the desired lake.
It goes like this: let's say the rented house is located at a height of 1500 or 1800 meters above sea level, so it's not too hot and not too cold. In the early morning, after morning prayers and breakfast, a person and his wife set out for the cable cars, preferably the open ones, which are like a bench rising between heaven and earth to a height of 2500 or 2700 meters. From there, he chooses a trail or route for a descent on foot from the mountain, usually a descent of an hour and a half to three hours. Quality hiking boots make all the difference, and the pleasant walk on the mountainsides between clouds, with snow that hasn't melted on one side and green summer expanses on the other, is the real deal. Wonderful conversations take place in such places between walkers, sometimes loud and noisy, sometimes smiling, and quite often a silent dialogue of long quiet, all full of thought.
This year, as mentioned, we spent a few days in the French Alps. We set out in the morning as described, and I said, why check routes in advance when you can just go with the flow? At worst, we'll end up somewhere different from where we started. We got off the open cable car, saw a sign indicating an hour and a half walk towards a lake. A brief look at the map there, and yes, there is a beautiful lake between the mountains. True, it was a fast day, the Seventeenth of Tammuz, but an hour and a half is nothing for us. We walked for three hours, descended the whole mountain, it was magnificent, splendid, and soul-expanding, but there was no lake, we didn't find it. I suppressed my deep disappointment and focused on the day that was.
The next day, we had a similar experience. This time we went down a trail near our lodging, people said, 'Go down there behind, half an hour between the trees and you'll reach a lake.' Again, I didn't check and just went with the flow, it was beautiful and pleasant, but we didn't find a lake. And I, who imagined sitting by the lake and perhaps even dipping my tired feet in it, found myself sitting on a stone by a winding road, basking in my disappointment.
As I looked inward to understand if I was disappointed because I didn't reach the lake or because 'I' didn't reach the lake, meaning, is the disappointment that there is no lake or that I made a mistake again, the question was cast to the Master of the Universe, "Dear Father, why did you send me day after day to deal with this? What is my lesson here?"
Pretty quickly, I realized it’s either-or, either you go with the flow as you like when setting out, and then it’s not certain you’ll find your lake and you’ll be disappointed, or you plan your outing properly, not as spontaneously, and then you’ll definitely reach the water and not be disappointed.
‘What do you prefer,’ my wife asked when I shared my thoughts with her, ‘to plan or to be disappointed? To go with the flow or to reach the water?’ ‘Both,’ I replied immediately. Yes, I want to both go with the flow without planning and also reach the water. Which is a lovely desire, perhaps a bit childish, but definitely charming. ‘And what is your lesson from these two lake-less days?’ she continued to challenge. I was silent; I had no answer, or perhaps I didn’t have the courage to acknowledge it. But the next day, I already knew: my significant lesson is dealing with disappointment. This means, in essence, knowing how to contain the disappointment from the mistake or miss so that it doesn’t overshadow the day that has passed and the one to come.
I trust you, my dear friends, to know how to connect this reflection to the Torah portion of Masei, for this is a story of a dual journey. Physical and spiritual, geographical and emotional, pedestrian and heartfelt.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Zalman Wishedski