The Space Between…
October 21, 2023
During the last two weeks, I have deeply come to understand my habitual response to almost all of the stimuli I have witnessed has proven to be inadequate. Maybe you feel this way too?
Nearly three years ago, I had the gift of entering into a Jewish spirituality mindfulness practice called Awareness in Action which was created by the Institute for Jewish Spirituality. The program focuses on middot (Jewish values) and how they inform our everyday interactions.
One of the things that moved me most was a powerful resource in the curriculum is this poem by Portia Nelson.
Autobiography in Five Short Chapters
Part 1
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost … I am hopeless.
It isn’t my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.
Part II
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don’t see it.
I fall in again.
I can’t believe I’m in the same place.
But it isn’t my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.
Part III
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in … it’s a habit.
My eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.
Part IV
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.
Part V
I walk down another street.
During these last two weeks, I found myself in my personal deep hole. My anger, my rage, my confusion, and my brokenheartedness all required me to react and respond to the world and the people around me as though I had no space from stimulus to response.
But there is always space between stimulus and response. And what lives in that space is the possibility of change, grace, non-judgmental curiosity, and hope. It is that space between stimulus and response that we can see each other’s humanity and choose something other than our habitual response. It is in that space between stimulus and response where we build relationships and trust even when we disagree. It is the space between stimulus and response where we become a community.
I am asking all of us to STOP (even if the urgency of circumstances only allows for a moment) and PAUSE. During that pause, I invite you to breathe. My mantra for the last three years has been breathing in the wisdom of our tradition so I can breathe out the compassion of my intentions. Breathe. Set your intentions and then respond.
If your habitual response to threats against the Jewish community is to become more insular. Breathe. Remember to feel the strength and resilience of the history of the Jewish people, show your heritage overtly, and invite others to be a part of it.
If your habitual response to tragic news is to read the headline and move on. Breathe. Read beyond the headlines and read and watch multiple sources. Watch news you do not agree with not to harden your heart but to try to acknowledge other people’s perspectives.
If your habitual response to toxic social media is to lash out or defend yourself. Breathe. And do not respond on social media. Remember you do not need to take criticism from someone from whom you would not take advice. And if it is from someone you would take advice from, connect with them one-on-one.
If your habitual response is to hold it all together until you can’t. Breathe and create space for yourself every day to sit with your pain, confusion, anger, fear, and hurt. Allow yourself to grieve.
If your habitual response is to attribute blame. Breathe. Accountability and blame are not the same thing. Explore the difference. Then choose to hold yourself and others accountable for solutions, learning, and support.
If your habitual response is to say nothing when you are watching someone else struggle. Breathe. Then reach out. Feel free to admit that you don’t have words or an antidote for their pain but you do have love.
At this moment, my habitual response has been inadequate and I am guessing maybe yours has been too. Join me in the space between stimulus and response, so we, together, can begin to pave a new street.
Shavua Tov,
Betzy Lynch, CEO
