Misery Muscle

Can we as Jews remember our pain without continuously choosing to reactivate our suffering? This was part of an interesting discussion I had with one of my wisest friends. She posed the question and I’d never thought of this before. It immediately brought to mind the bitter tears we literally eat on Passover, the noisemakers used to drown out the maniacal anti semite du jour (Haman) on Purim, all of Tisha B’av during which we read “lamentations”, and these are but a few examples. The Jewish wedding ceremony even includes the prayer for remembering Jerusalem; if we don’t then maybe our right hands be cut off! YIKES. Not very festive and wedding appropriate. And then there’s perhaps the biggest directive to Never Forget in response to the Holocaust, the biggest Jewish genocide in modern history. My friend was envisioning a possible way in which we as Jews can celebrate and honor our rich heritage without the doom and gloom. Tbh, I get why the more depressing aspects to our culture can feel unhealthy, possibly outdated. But the thought of losing that piece may ultimately dilute one of the most important elements to Judaism; the sheer miracle of our survival. How can we stay rooted in tradition if we remove the customs of misery? How do we have a Passover Seder that doesn’t include the actual drinking of pretend tears? It’s so incredibly grim yet it’s always been a necessary part of our story. If our ancestors had given this up generations ago, would we still be upholding these traditions and customs today? It comes to a point where we need to ask how crucial the misery factor is on our lives. Why do we rely on it so much to preserve our heritage? Who would we be without it? What would we talk about if this piece is removed? Can the joy of the holidays, as well as our culture at large, be maintained without the omnipresent Debbie Downer? Essentially, can we remember without letting the painful memories be the focus?
A wider point of inquiry for me is what the obsession with never forgetting does to the health and well being of the individual, the family, the community, and the culture. If I have been encoded to hold massive grudges and fear/hate certain people, then I’m obviously doing the same to my own children. Justified or not, it’s not a healthy thing. I completely understand and respect the fact that never forgetting the doom and gloom, pain, trauma, and danger towards Jews is a deeply necessary protective mechanism. We have a massively traumatic history. Any move to remember and know exactly who did this to us is a form of self defense. We are hyper vigilant because we have had to be. However, I also can’t ignore the fact that we are unconsciously choosing over and over to reactivate our collective trauma with the nonstop reminders of how everyone hates us and is out to get us. It’s like we aren’t giving ourselves a chance to know what it’s like to not be weighed down with the pain of all that.
I don’t know the answer, and frankly the thought of cutting out these painful parts to our culture scare me a bit. If we give up certain practices then what else will be carved away? This is the problem; when the notion of putting down pain feels unsettling. That alone speaks to the unhealthy relationship most Jews have with our own trauma. We seem to need it. As individuals, our addiction to our problems is a fascinating thing to investigate. How do we ever come up for air if there is a refusal to separate ourselves from life’s hardships? It’s one thing to be caught. Humans will always get caught, stuck, and hooked on suffering. It’s another thing to allow the hooks to never leave. It’s an unconscious decision to invite our trauma and suffering to move in rent free, forever. We pay it, not the other way around. The more our nervous systems become flooded with trauma, the harder it is to free ourselves. I call it the Misery Muscle. It gets stronger each time it’s flexed. We are constantly flexing and building up this muscle, and we most likely are totally unaware we’re doing it.
I don’t think the answer is to eliminate the Misery Muscle in Jewish culture. Remember, muscles aren’t optional. They’re a built in part of the body. What we can do, perhaps, is not work it out so much. We can weaken it by giving it less attention, and focus more on the healthier, more joyful parts to our heritage (there are many!). As a mother, I’m deeply uncomfortable ingraining any form of permanent misery into my children. Suffering is poisonous if it’s not dealt with. It’s a pervasive part of life. To live is to experience great suffering. But how to hold and acknowledge suffering and all its feels without getting swept away in it? This is one of the chief reasons I love Buddhist psychology so much; it teaches exactly this. It gives me the tools to deal with any kind of pain. If Jews believe in Tikun Olam (repairing the world), one of our religion’s most beautiful tenets, then how do we do that from under a thickly knotted net of suffering. When does never forgetting become a roadblock in moving forward in a way in which we can be our most actualized selves? Self actualized living includes a commitment to emotional liberation. Liberation means making new choices and moving in new directions; this comes from an inner place of wisdom and guidance. If the vow to cling to suffering prevents charting new paths, then this blocks said guidance. It suffocates our power of choice. One of our greatest human gifts is the ability to choose how we want to be in any given moment. We are always being asked to decide which seeds to plant. Seeds can be helpful, harmful, or most commonly a mix of both. One seed can produce a whole system of growth. I try to remember this as I refuse to take part in planting more forests of misery, in a world that’s already overgrown with that. That’s not what I wish to offer myself, my kids, my community, or my greater world.