And You Shall Love

I went to a party tonight, and I was struck by embarrassment about halfway through it.  It was as though I revealed too much. Gave too much.  Later, I was told by a friend that I’m an “open book.”  It’s a strange statement to hear.  I think it’s pretty neutral in theory, but in reality, I find that people use it as a polite way to say “you need to take it down a notch.”

It’s true, I reveal a lot of myself to people, and very quickly.  Right or wrong, I feel like I have little to hide.  I remember my mother telling me as a young girl that secrets are becoming. That I shouldn’t give away too much of myself at once.  I really tried for a while. I did.  But it’s  just not in my nature.  I am a forthcoming person.  I can’t help but to put it all on the table.  It falls out of me.  Mind you, what I have to say about myself is only superficial, it tells the transient state, mood, and situation that I’m in at that particular instant.  To fully know me, you have to dig deeper.  You have to engage me and experience me in new situations.

As I type that, I laugh a bit, because I realize this is exactly the way you have to engage with any text, including the Torah.  It is there, waiting for you.  It is laid out.  There are no surprises at first, because the story is all there.  But to fully appreciate the Torah, you have to revisit it time and again. You have to read it when you are sad, happy, confused, searching, content.  The Torah has a bluntness to it, but what the reader brings to it fully exposes its endless possibilities.

In other words, I have no problem being identified as an “open book.”  The greatest story of all time presents itself the same way: naked and simple.

This month, Adar, Rabbi Judy challenged us to pursue trust as our middah.   I guess when I lay it all out on the table, it is because I trust my fellow human.  I fully believe that there is good in all of us.  I offer myself up, whatever part you happen upon, to be used in whatever way you see put.

Does that result in hurt sometimes? Of course.  But I recognize that sometimes, by giving it all away you are giving others the permission to use you as you see fit.  Sometimes that means I am insulted, betrayed.  I am often misconstrued or misunderstood.  How similar, then, am I to the Torah.  With it as my guide, I recognize that I may be taken out of context, forcefully hunted down, used as ammo against another.  However, more often than not, my pages and phrases bring a sense of understanding, joy, or even calm to someone who may really need that.

It all comes down to trust. I trust you.  All of you.  For better or worse.  I know that there are people who do bad, awful, horrible things in this world.  Even so, I chose to operate with trust and respect.  If that earns me a hurt feeling or two, so be it.  Those fouls can never undo all the good that I’ve found in being an open book.