Friday, September 01, 2006
Last night I had a dream that I was running around disguised as a boy (I think that subconsciously deals with this week's parsha). There was someone who was constantly seeking me out, to both physically and emotionally abuse me. It was the mean blonde from the Karate Kid movie, who was constantly harassing Daniel-San. I kept thinking to myself, "Wait 'til he finds out I'm really a girl, then he'll regret all this."
The abuse continued. Until one day we were in a large room, set up like a coliseum. Round, with rounded benches going upwards. There were lots of people there. Something was happening. Someone was coming. And then Rabbi Jacobson burst in, with throngs of chanting chassidim. "Aha!" I thought to my tormentor. "Now your time has come!" I could sense his fear and confusion. He knew his reckoning had come as well.
Then we found ourselves in a smaller room. Rabbi Jacobson was sitting on the bed, surrounded by chassidim. I was sitting behind my nemesis, watching the back of his blonde head. I piped up to the rabbi, "This man has been so cruel to me, he hasn't stopped!" And Rabbi Jacobson turned and focused his gaze on him. It was a look of curiosity, full of compassion and wonder. No malice was in his eyes at all. And somehow Rabbi Jacobson's face became my Zalman's, watching the man with his blue eyes. Looking out at him with complete baby-trust.
And in my dream, I started to sob. I had completely missed the boat. All I wanted to do was tattle on my enemy. I missed the fact that he had no capacity for kindness - that there was something very wrong inside of him. I didn't shine on him with compassion or mercy, like Rabbi Jacobson did. Like my son did.
All I was thinking of was myself.