In a post-Holocaust age where all prior meaning dissolved in the ashes and flames of Auschwitz we look and search for meaning in our tradition. It claims we have a Higher Power who cares about us.

In my own struggles growing up in a home of a survivor and another strict disciplinarian I seemed to have internalized an image of self that self destructs and is so self critical it seems to cause constant havoc within. Clearly our image of the divine is also made up of projected internalized notions of authority so that in my recovery process (t'shuva) especially in the varieties of Hassidic experience my image of the divine needs alteration from the punitive hypercritical unaccepting-of-flaws to a radically different image.

I speak of the need for such inner work since little change can occur within me or within my patients until we have initiated such strategic changes in the inner architecture of the soul. For the soul to do its work in suffering well and holding pain and illness it needs a Higher Power that nourishes and nurtures. Yet most of us have a different image of the divine. So the work of revisioning the character of God is part of the inner work of healing.

A Story by Hershy.

The Rebbe Reb Chanoch of Alexander used to tell three stories all his life. Only three! No more no less. The same three! Unlike most Hassidic masters who made use of stories fables and tales to prove a theological point as part of their method of exegesis, this Rebbe only told the following three stories.

1. The lost treasure.

A pious man from the city of Cracow, Isaac, Reb Yekel's son, has a dream that a treasure is waiting for him buried under the bridge in Prague, the one leading into the royal palace. He is poverty stricken and cannot afford the trip of some hundreds of miles. But the dream and the obsession do not abate. So finally he sells everything he owns in the hope of getting to the great city of Prague and the bridge where he will find his treasure. But when he arrives he finds that his bridge is guarded with soldiers at every corner. He cannot search during the day so he resolves to return to dig for the treasure at night. But he returns at night only to discover the guard is doubled and the patrols are extra vigilant, checking for saboteurs under the bridge precisely where he meant to dig. He resolved to try again the following morning. By that time, however, the commander of the guard had grown suspicious of the Jew hanging around the bridge. "What are you doing here around this bridge at all times of the day and night?"

The Jew decided to tell the truth, "I had a dream about this bridge, that a treasure lies buried underneath it." The old soldier began to laugh. "You Jews," he scoffed, "You have nothing better to do than go chasing dreams. Let me tell you about a dream I've had for years. I dream that there's a huge treasure waiting for me buried beneath the hearth in the house of a Jew named Isaac, Reb Yekel's. in Cracow. Can you imagine me going all that way to find a treasure? Do you know how many Jews are called Isaac, son of Yekel? No wonder you Jews are always losers."

The man realized that his mission and lesson was to come all this way only to find out that the treasure was back home all along. (Isaac Reb Yekel's synagogue in Cracow, the one built with the treasure dug up from under his hearth, was only destroyed by the nazi’s during WWII.)

2. The Cossack

It was a time of pogroms, the Cossack - tax collector having drunk himself belligerent to start the day off properly, bangs on the door of this poor man’s house. They let him in and he starts shouting shouts “khazzan” meaning “hearth tax” or something like it, in Russian. The yidele only speaks Yiddish and thinks he means "chazzan" cantor or singer. Thinking the Cossack want to hear a tune he begins to sing! He chooses one the liturgical poems from Purim a happy day in the calendar when most people get merry and even drunk.

The Cossack becomes enraged and hits him over the head with his horsewhip. The man falls to the ground bleeding. His wife yells "maybe he did not like that song, sing him a different one".

So he chooses a song from a more serious holiday liturgy like The Passover Seder. Again the Cossack beats him even harder now. Again his wife suggests a different niggun or melody and now he chooses one the most solemn liturgical songs from Yom Kippur and again he beats him to a pulp. Now almost on his last breath the yidele whispers "maybe he wanted a new song?"

3. The Man who lost Himself

Once there was a man who could never find anything. His home was so cluttered he spent most of his time trying to find the most basic things; clothes to get dressed in, for he always seemed to misplace them.

One night, before bed, he had a bright idea, to make a list, the very last thing that night, to facilitate dressing in the morning. He went to bed, and after making himself comfortable, made the list.

Socks are under the bed.
Trousers are on the floor in the bathroom.
Shirt is hanging on the back of the chair by the door.

And so on, and so on. Then, at the bottom of the list he put the final and most important item.

I, myself, I am lying in my bed.

He blew out the candle and went to sleep. In the morning he woke and found his list right there, to hand, on the bedside table. He picked it up and began the daily search and rescue mission. Socks under the bed, sure, no problem. Trousers in the bathroom, won’t take a minute. The whole operation of finding clothes and getting dressed could not have gone smoother. There remained but one item on the list. He read it: "I, myself, I am lying in my bed."

"Oi Gevalt!" he began moaning, "O woe is me, where am I? Oi, Oi, I'm not there."

I believe that the Rebbe chose these three stories very carefully.

Story one is about finding oneself one's treasure one’s soul: and the message seems to be one does not need to sell all and go finding one's soul is a distant land, it's right there in one's own hearth!

Story two is about the sweetening of harsh decrees. The Cossack represents all the strict justice and even cruelty in the world. Evil as a demonic force in creation needs to be redeemed and we spend our lives suffering and refining the evil within and without. The question has always been the true path to conquer the evil within and without. What is the path that will eventually bring the Messiah and the Utopian world vision? Each of us is in search of that ultimate melody that will calm the dragon down and sooth the inner torment.

Story three is about finding one's lost soul oneself. Even after all the lists and tables and taxonomy and scientific investigation we are always left with a gap of knowledge. Despite all the scans MRI's, CT's, EMG's, and analysis there is a human being suffering in that body, one with a unique biography and experience of suffering and pain. Beyond the physiology of pain and illness I will never really know what the patient is truly suffering. Only the patient can attempt to discover the true meaning of his or her suffering and thereby his or her true self despite all the investigations and attempts to control one's life (the incessant lists) one ends up staring at an empty bed in dismay asking the very question "where am I" and "who lies in this bed?"

Hershy says: The first story teaches me the importance of following dreams. Occasionally, however, the dream I should follow is the one someone else is having on my behalf. The answer to my question comes from listening carefully to other people; God speaks to me only through other people, never directly. The second story warns against making assumptions. A lifetime can be wasted trying to negotiate my way through an illusory world; trying to fix what is not broken, and failing to respond to my own stimuli because they are not recognized for what they are. I am so used to swinging my hammer I see every opportunity a nail. The third story reminds me when attempting to make sense of my life or make decisions about my future I must always put myself at the top of the list of known things. I can't be counseled on how to repair my marriage if I am not in it. At the top of every list of spiritual tasks I must be able to place myself, name myself, know myself. If I'm driving my car there's no point reminding myself to stop at red lights, to indicate before turning corners, to remember to fill the tank with gas and check the oil, obey the speed limit when I don't know where I'm going. I must be able to say, "And I, Hershy, am driving to New York," before starting the journey, before getting in the car, before anything else.

The story ends up in real life where it is told that the Rebbe Reb Chanoch Alexander's dying words were "Maybe we need a different melody".

What was he saying? This tzaddik had spent his whole life in the pursuit of truth and self analysis in the tradition of his Rebbe the Kotzker. What had he got wrong!

Did he feel he had still 'got the melody wrong' meaning had not been successful in bringing closer the messianic era! Or was he saying he had yet not uncovered the secret to his own soul! The melody by which his soul resonated. We will never know.

I found great solace in these three stories.

In the first I found the insistence that the treasure is right here at home within. I never believed in myself or in my own truth. Most of my patients need to begin to trust themselves and their symptoms. My pain is my guide I learn from it. I do not wish to anesthetize it. It teaches me all sorts of things about my body and its response to stress. It teaches me about my past and about where and why symptoms get "incarnated" in specific anatomical regions.

In the second story I found great comfort in the Rebbe validating my struggle with the evil within and without. The never-ending search for the right harmony the music of the spheres that will calm things down within and without is the very search for healing. When I listen to my patients I am also searching for the right words the healing words that give meaning to their suffering and give them the strength to hold their suffering better.

The most profound is the last story in which we all go looking for our lost selves. My point is always that in illness and disease we are forced to discover the true meanings behind our pain and thus our lives. We are no longer given the luxury of procrastination. The time has finally come to look at the empty bed and exclaim where the hell am I!

In revisioning God I can only find an appropriate mirrored image once I have done the inner work of re-visioning myself. To the degree I remain with my old projections I will never be able to move to the loving unconditionally accepting Higher Power I need for my healing.