Root of Suffering

The root of suffering is vividly depicted in a famous Zen parable of two arrows. When you are hit by an arrow, you feel pain, which is physical and isn't always avoidable - the first arrow. Then when you start to think unconsciously about this pain, you start to experience suffering, which is mental and always avoidable - the second arrow.

Recently I witnessed a living example of how this second arrow works in real time. After I sent one announcement about one decision of mine to several people, half of them responded to it constructively, while one of the rest reacted to it emotionally and even stopped saying hello to me though I emphasized that there is nothing personal against them. It was painful to see how he was causing himself suffering by shooting the second arrow to himself.

Unlike in the above mentioned Zen parable, the first arrow didn't exist in this case. He simply invented the second arrow out of nothing by unconsciously giving a negative interpretation to my announcement.

This has reminded me how I myself used to invent the second arrow out of nothing in the same way, thus causing myself enormous suffering. Thank God, I can consciously avoid this suffering in most cases now, and even in what few cases in which find myself about to shoot the second arrow, I can prevent it before it's shot to myself.

This example has also made me realize anew that it's precisely those who are intelligent that are more prone to this second arrow as they are more likely to overthink, and unconsciously at that.

Unless you are specially trained through the practice of mindfulness (meditation) etc. and/or were born with a special talent, most of the thoughts you have are automatic. So thinking for you is more like digesting than like, let's say, reading.

As someone who spent his entire life in his mind-made prison until waking up I've been claiming that meditation should be an obligatory school subject. We are encouraged to think independently at school, but unless we are also taught how to observe out thoughts mindfully, this is extremely dangerous like learning to ride a bicycle without learning how to use a brake. Unfortunately, this is the rule rather than an exception for so many people.

I want to and can help them, but there is one fundamental problem for which I haven't found any practical solution. The problem is that most of these people seem to be unaware of this problem of theirs - the problem that they think on autopilot.

I know this meta-problem very well as I was just like that until the suffering I caused to myself became unbearable and eventually led to my sudden awakening. I don't want anyone else to experience such unbearable suffering, but this might be the only viable solution, at least for some of those who are deeply trapped in their mind-made prison as I used to.

Vibrational Realignment

To stop speaking English except for professional purposes as long as I'm in Israel, about which I wrote in my previous two blog entries, was the first of my attempts for vibrational realignment, which it turn is part of one amazing Hasidic teaching I've been learning and trying to implement in my life these days.

This vibrational realignment has two aspects: on the one hand, I increase those activities that raises my spiritual vibe, and the other, I decrease those activities that lowers my spiritual vibe.

Since I stopped speaking English here a few weeks ago, I feel more vibrationally realigned. Now I can also reallocate the energy I save this way to something that is more aligned with my spiritual vibe.

This first attempt of vibrational realignment was on my choice of languages. I'm applying this to something similar - my choice of words. I've started to make a conscious effort to minimize the utterance of negative words even in those languages that can otherwise raise my spiritual vibe.

Minimizing the utterance of negative words has turned out to be a far more difficult challenge for me as I've realized that I'm still shlepping a certain years-long toxic legacy that manifests itself, among others, as judgmentalism.

A few years ago I spent about half a year five times a week in a special program with a mentor to eradicate this legacy. But now I see that it's impossible to totally eradicate it and it's been slightly resurfacing recently. So I started last week to reread by myself one book that I used with my mentor in this program, hoping to "anesthisize" the symptoms of this legacy.

Speaking vs. Listening, Reading, and Writing

This week I realized for the first time that speaking has a totally different meaning for me from the other three linguistic skills, i.e., listening, reading, and writing. When I speak a language that is aligned with my spiritual vibe, it refills my energy. On the other hand, when I speak a language that is not aligned with my spiritual vibe, it drains my energy.

Here is a hierarchy of languages I (can) speak in terms of energy consumption when I speak them:

• Russian greatly refills my energy.
• Yiddish slightly refills my energy.
• Hebrew, Japanese, and English (outside Israel) neither refill nor drain my energy.
• Esperanto slightly drains my energy.
• English (in Israel) greatly drains my energy.

I realized this several days after I decided to stop speaking English in Israel except for professional purposes and started implementing this decision last week. Strangely, however, I don't feel any energy draining at all when I listen to, read or write English.

This has led me to start asking myself what differenciates speaking from the other three linguistic skills. The provisional conclusion I've come to so far is that when I speak a language, its sounds I play to myself affect me very much as a kind of self-hypnosis.

Sounds of languages are neutral in themselves though I've always considered Russian as the most beautiful language phonetically. But once these sounds are combined to make words, then sentences, these words and sentences start to carry various connotations in turn. Russian reminds me of the culture I admire, while English in Israel reminds me too much of the (sub)culture that repels me.

Now I'm appreciating that language is not only a means of communication but also has a powerful symbolic meaning for better or for worse.

Каждый раз, когда я (слышу, как я) говорю по-русски, я чувствую такой сильный эмоциональный подъем. Это вообще такое удивительное чувство, которое я сам не могу объяснить рационально. Более того, когда я пою себе одну из моих самых любимых русских песен, я могу даже заплакать от радости.

I'm in Israel Neither to Speak English Nor to Be Part of an English-Speaking Ghetto

Though about 80% of non-Jewish books and about 40% of Jewish books I read are in English and I take notes in English, it has become more and more difficult for me emotionally to continue speaking English here in Israel except for professional purposes even in private with those who immigrated from English-speaking countries, haven't taken the trouble of learning Hebrew, and continue speaking only English, especially in public places, including synagugues, and on Sabbaths and Jewish holidays.

Many of them "complain" that Hebrew is too difficult for them to learn. But I've never heard such a "complaint" from such a large group of speakers of any other language. I can't help feeling here their linguistic arrogance. Many of the speakers of all the other languages must at least take the trouble of learning Hebrew. Even if they haven't succeeded in learning enough Hebrew, none of them would dare to speak to everyone in their respective language in public in a country they immigrated to.

I've decided to stop speaking English with these people as I'm not in Israel to speak English. In my present life this problem is especially serious in the Chabad synagogue I switched to about half a year ago from a non-Chabad one where I davened for 16 years. I feel as if I were in an English-speaking ghetto. If they don't want to learn Hebrew and prefer speaking only English in public, even to those whose first language isn't English, I also have the right not to speak English. I'm not in Israel to be part of an English-speaking ghetto.

I've never been a fanatic of Hebrew. But recently I've started to feel a growing emotional opposition to their linguistic arrogance. I also sense a kind of linguistic colonialism as a larger context of this linguistic arrogance.

Like in other forms of colonialism, there are not only colonizers but also the colonized. Unfortunately, quite a few native speakers of Hebrew seem to have decided, whether consciousnly or unconsciously, to be colonized linguisticially. They immediately switch to English when they detect an English accent in their interlocutors. Where are their self-respect and respect for Hebrew?!

Again like other forms of colonialism, the worst kind of the colonized are those who try to imitate their "masters". I've met a number of native speakers of Hebrew who have decided to raise their children in English for their eventual "success" in their study and work.

I've suddently become very sensitive to this issue recently as English has come to remind me too much of one evil force I can't tolerate any more. My tolerance has reached a limit as my knowledge has significantly increased recently about this evil force and what it has been doing with such arrogance. Of course, I'm not trying to force all these people to learn Hebrew and start speaking it in public. If they don't want to, this is their problem. But I don't want to be part of their problem any more.

I'm well aware that I'll have to pay some price for this decision - facing the challenge of relating to all the Anglophone monolinguals with compassion instead of treating them with contempt even if they remain in their linguistic comfort zone. Fortunately, one doesn't need any language to convey and perceive compassion (and contempt).

I also find it less and less comfortable emotionally to continue writing this blog in English as I feel I'm contradicting my belief. I may eventually switch to Hebrew, Yiddish and Russian, which are the three language that are the closest to my heart. The excuse I tell myself for continuing to write this blog in English in the meanwhile is that it's not meant (exclusively) for other speakers of Hebrew in Israel.

I'd like to end this blog entry with a positive tone. I'm also hoping that this decision of mine will instigate some of the Anglophone monolinguals in our synagogue to start learning Hebrew and speaking it, especially if they see this is also for their own benefit. Their linguistic inertia must be too strong for them to take themselves out of their linguistic comfort zone with no external factor. As long as you remain stuck in your comfort zone, you'll never grow. To my joy, one bilingual member has promised to help me help them, and one monolingual member has already expressed his decision in (seemingly automatically translated) Hebrew to start learning Hebrew systematically.

PS: It's ironical that the only Hebrew expressions the above mentioned "lovers" of English seem to know are greetings for Sabbath and Jewish holidays but we use Yiddish expressions instead of Hebrew ones in Chabad and other haredi communities.