Again and Again

A rabbinic colleague said number of years ago that he peered into the old records of his synagogue archives.  Specifically, he looked at the minutes of past Board Meetings that took place decades before.  He laughed as he told me, “You know, if you changed the names, they are the exact same conversations we have at today’s Board Meetings.”  I chuckled along with him and mused how life is not linear; it circles around and repeats itself. 

One of the things that time has taught me is that you cannot tell anyone anything they do not want (or cannot) hear.  Argue your point forever and if the person is not disposed to hear they will not listen.   Argumentation only works if at least one of the parties is willing to listen.

In the Mishna, Elisha ben Abuyah asked:

He who learns when a child, to what is he compared?

To ink written upon a new writing sheet.

And he who learns when old, to what is he compared?

To ink written on a well-used writing sheet.  

Is this a compliment or insult?  Does this mean that the young are fruits ready to ripen with each bit of information we feed them while the old are calcified?    Or does it mean that the old have vast resources through which they cull new information to determine its authenticity and meaning?  Are the elderly simply more discerning?

I suspect that Elisha’s statement means both.  It depends on the person.  Einstein is quoted as saying that insanity “is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”  What if Einstein was wrong?  What if the same thing never happens again?  Since physical circumstances – unless in a sterilized, controlled environment- are never exactly the same perhaps we can expect different results? 

I wonder if real maturity is the ability to confront life’s recurring problems and be open to different outcomes?  After all, if nothing ever changes, if we know for a certainty that such-and-such will happen, how can we grow?

Youthful joy starts and ends in wonder.  As a little green shoot juts out from the earth from a tiny brown seed, a youngster whoops and shouts.  It is a miracle.  A puppy born is awesome.  Sunsets, movies, bedtime, and swimming in the ocean are unforgettable experiences written on brand new parchment. 

We grow and experience these things many times over in a lifetime.  When they come to us again, how do we greet them? “I’ve seen that a million times?” Or do we have the ability to throw open our arms to an old friend, a reuniting of kinship and affection?

That we grow up is a gift of God.  How we grow up is a gift we give to back to God and to ourselves.

Life is circular.  The earth is round and events turn like the gentle revolutions of our planet.  Yet, age is a gift that allows us to experience thrill time and again.

 “When we pitch camp, we pitch camp in a circle.  When the eagle builds a nest, the nest is in a circle.  When we look at the horizon, the horizon is in a circle,” once said an Indian chief.

Hanukkah is here.  The old Hannukiah (Menorah) comes out.  We buy those familiar multi-colored candles.  We say blessings as we light them, sing songs, and bring gifts.   Is it old or new?  Have we stood here before or is this the first time in our lives?  New parchment or old? 

Take the well-used variety that is warmed by years of use and experience.

Greet each new day as the first day.  Take Hanukkah, please.