Incrementalism, Take 2

I remember, at some point during my studies prior to conversion, being absolutely bewildered by the vast array of Jewish rituals and practices I was learning about. I remember feeling frustrated and wondering how – or even, if – I ever could make the transition from “not-Jew” to “Jew.” Being Jewish, I was learning, should impact every single aspect of my daily life – it wasn’t something I could only pull out and wear at defined times.

Maybe I was making a mistake, I thought. Maybe it was too much to ask to go from being a ham-and-cheese or cheeseburger-with-milkshake lover to a kashruth-observant Jew who would automatically know whether something was permissible or not. Or from being a hey-it’s-Friday-night-let’s-order-a-pizza-in kinda person to a candles-wine-and-challah-with-Shabbat-dinner adherent.

I wish I had access to Rabbi Bradley Shavit Artson’s It’s a Mitzvah! Step-by-Step to Jewish Living when I was grappling with these questions. Unfortunately (?) I converted in 1982, a full 13 years before Rabbi Artson’s book was published. I first became familiar with it in September 2001, as I was writing a post-September 11th Home-and-School curriculum, entitled “Rainbow People.” It’s a Mitzvah! became a primary source as I wrote that curriculum.

What made it particularly attractive was Brad’s “baby steps” along the way to observance of mitzvot. Instead of taking an “all or nothing” approach, Brad advocates a gradual approach. In his own words:

One of the excuses Jews use to disregard the demands of our religion is an inability to observe its totality immediately. Far too often we look upon Judaism as an all-or-nothing affair; either observe it 100 percent or don’t even bother. Such as approach ends up discouraging willing Jews from exploring their own heritage and distorts the true nature of Judaism. This book advocates a gradual approach to Jewish life without abandoning the traditional goals of Judaism. … Such a method allows the reader to absorb a new skill, value, or priority while taking advantage of his or her life history. Some growth is better than none, and a lot is better than a little.

It was an intriguing concept for me to explore. There had been conscious, deliberate decisions that my husband and I had made regarding how we would observe some of the home-centered mitzvot – kashruth, Shabbat rest, tefillot. Since those choices rarely lived up to the standard set by the orthodox community, I often wondered as if my commitment to Judaism was as sincere as it should be. What I wasn’t doing sometimes seemed more definitive than what I was doing. Since I wasn’t doing it all, I felt as if what I was doing was nothing.

In the last seven years – since I first discovered It’s a Mitzvah! – it’s become my go-to source for many questions of observance. Consequently, I’ve found myself focusing more on what I do, instead of feeling guilty about what I don’t do. Therefore, I’ve found it easier to continue to progress in some areas. Where I’ve chosen to remain at my level of current observance, it’s been a mindful choice – not one that rules out the possibility of future change.

A Master Teacher

I went to see my neurologist last week.

Last year, I was diagnosed with severe obstructive sleep apnea. In many ways, the diagnosis was a relief. It was certainly better than what my over-active imagination had conjured up. Best of all – there was something I could do for it: I could wear a CPAP mask to bed.

With the mask on, I slept beautifully. Most of my symptoms disappeared. I felt better. I woke up refreshed. As time wore on, I also woke up with painfully dry skin and occasionally dry eyes. I glopped myself with skin lotion – before bed and when I awoke. It was marginally better, but messy. The mask also made it difficult for me to shift positions in the night – and I began to wake up stiff. Somehow, this had stopped being fun. In my mind, the cost began to outweigh the benefit.

And then one night, I decided just to try sleeping without the mask “for just one night.” Before I knew it, I was sleeping more without the mask than with it. Eventually, I stopped wearing it altogether.

When I saw my doctor last week, I told him what my current practice was and how I reached my decision.

He listened. He asked questions about how I was feeling, about my productivity, about other stresses I’d shared with him earlier. He was concerned about my dry skin and dry eyes. He looked back at the results of my sleep test.

And then he gently said, “I see you had over 60 interruptions an hour a year ago. You are getting some deep sleep now, but you probably are still awaking several times during the night. Every episode of apnea puts stress on your heart. Ultimately your heart will stop. That’s what causes death: the heart stops. That happens eventually to all of us. I don’t want your heart to have to work any harder than it must.”

He waited. I mentioned diet and exercise. He smiled (again gently) and said that although those things help, lack of restorative sleep causes the most damage. Would it be possible, he wondered aloud, if I could wear the mask two nights a week? Could I handle the dry skin, if it was only two nights a week?

HOW he was saying it made it possible for me to hear WHAT he was saying. Instead of pushing for maximum compliance, he was able to commit me to what I could do.

So I’m back on the mask….two nights a week, I can deal with dry skin and dry eyes and stiffness in the morning when I awaken.

What powerful lessons I learned from him:

• The manner of delivery is crucial if we want people to “hear” us.
• It’s equally important not to allow yourself to get diverted with side issues.
• Don’t minimize the difficulty the student is having.
• Negotiate to come up with a result both parties can “live with.”
  

I’ve found a new master teacher to model myself after!