Just Roll With It

“How did you survive?” they asked him. Rabbi Akiva replied that he’d found a plank of wood, and every time a big wave came rolling towards him, poised to knock him off his plank and drown him, G-d forbid, he simply put his head down, and let it roll over him. And that is how he got safely to shore.

 

I was thinking about this story today, because my modus operandi of the last few weeks has been the exact opposite. I know where I want to get – to the safe shore of emuna, tranquillity and happiness. But every time my yetzer hara  – my evil inclination – has sent me a wave of worry, fear and anxiety, instead of putting my head down and letting it roll harmlessly past me, I’ve been straining to see the shore – and I’ve been getting clobbered.

 

 

I’ve had a few days of being knocked off the plank completely, and it’s only thanks to the ongoing patience and prayers of a couple of special people in my life, primarily my husband, that I’ve managed to hang on at all.

 

But being in a choppy, dangerous ocean with only a plank for company is not an ideal situation. Being battered by waves of doubt, fear, worry and stress is exhausting, and each one leaves you with less energy to deal with the next one.

 

I was feeling pretty desperate yesterday, as the waves were getting bigger, and my capacity to cope with them was seriously waning. I phoned my Rav, for advice on what to do about it all.

 

“Just roll with it,” he told me. “Go and walk on the beach, and talk to Hashem.”

 

And that’s when I remembered the story about Rabbi Akiva.

 

Rabbi Akiva didn’t have an easy life. He was an illiterate peasant for 40 years; then an impoverished torah scholar who didn’t see his wife for 24 years straight; and only then the spiritual leader of his generation. But even this final stage was fraught with ‘waves’. He taught 24,000 students – and all but five of them died in a plague. His wife, Rachel, died. He was constantly persecuted by the Romans, and ultimately, died when they tortured him to death for teaching torah in a public place.

 

There must have been so many times when the waves must have seemed so big, so overwhelming, that he was in real danger of being washed away. But he always just kept his head down, and let them roll over him. He kept hold of his ‘emuna plank’, and knew that sooner or later, he was going to make it to shore – and the whole Jewish people with him.

 

Rav Arush always teaches that we don’t learn Torah as a nice collection of stories about ‘how things used to be’. Every letter is designed to teach us something about ourselves, something about the here and now.

 

So today, I really started to think about how I can ‘roll’ with everything my yetzer hara has been sending against me recently. Thank G-d, I’ve got my plank; I know it’s emuna and hitbodedut, personal prayer, and it’s what’s been keeping me afloat so far. But now, I have to work out how to conserve my energy until I make it back to the beach.

 

A few days’ ago, I was at a shiur given by Rabbi Brody, where he mentioned the ‘three second rule’ about fighting your yetzer hara. This rule states that the yetzer only has power over you for three seconds. If you can hold on, put your head down and let it roll over you for those three seconds, then you are home free.

 

Rabbi Brody was talking about keeping your temper and not criticising your spouse, but I think if it works for anger – which is a far more immediately powerful emotion – it probably also works for worry and anxiety as well.

 

With Hashem’s help, the next time one of my kids complains about having a headache or something, I’m not going to immediately jump to terrible conclusions and get washed off my plank. Instead, I’m going to take three seconds, let the worry wash over me, ask Hashem for koach and emuna, and play it down.

 

I’m going to remember that all the headaches so far have been just that: headaches. And that’s all. I’m going to remember that Hashem is kindness, and that He’s never let me down so far. And I’m going to pray that sooner rather than later, if I keep rolling with it, rather than putting myself directly in the way, I’m going to get to shore.