My happy 73rd
birthday
Shalom
friends,
Man!!!
I’ve been sitting here, not
on the same spot, but close and not always sitting but sometimes standing,
lying, leaning, walking, running and God alone knows what else I’ve been doing
and now, after 73 years, so I’m told, of thinking what I was supposed to be
doing it’s struck me like a bolt of lightning, which I’ve always been waiting
for, I mean really waiting for, mind you, that I wasn’t supposed to do
anything, things were supposed to be done to me. I was king baby, little lord Fauntleroy,
as creatures who are fussed over are referred to. But I wasn’t fussed over like
I should have been or like I’ve seen other newborns fussed over. At the time I
wasn’t even aware, mind you, that I was supposed to be fussed over. This is one
of the things one becomes aware of only after living and seeing during a period
of time like 73 years, which people tell me, mind you, I have lived and had the
pleasure of seeing many babies fussed over. A child doesn’t know that he’s
supposed to be fussed over; he only learns that as he grows older, then
gradually he demands his share of being fussed over.
My
demands were not met. Why? I want
to say explicitly that I demanded to be fussed over. In fact everything I did
started from that moment of awareness. Now here’s the strange, really puzzling
thing, mind you, the more I demanded and did things to get my demands fulfilled
the more fussing eluded me. I mean the less people fussed over me. How was I to
get my share of fussing?
The
real awareness is that you don’t
get the fussing. Once you’ve missed it at birth it’s gone forever. There simply
is no way to recover it. It’s just another one of those big tragedies of life
one encounters in the course of a lifetime.
You,
in fact go through life, after
you’ve missed that moment of being fussed over, through no fault of your own, a
ranting, raving, screaming maniac who nobody understands what he wants and some
people, taking pity, try to lock up in a cage to keep out of harm’s way, the
harm you can do to yourself, to others or that others can do to you. That’s
called mercy.
If
you have a brain in your head,
like I have, thank God, sad to say that some of these unfortunate people don’t
have or have it in small measure, you will calm down and look for mercy. You
won’t find it amongst human beings because they see you as a grown up person,
who outwardly has all the comforts of life and for the life of them can’t
figure out what you could want of them, but you will find it in animals and in
God, because animals and God look into the soul. It’s not for nothing that dog
and God have the same letters; both look into the soul.
My
first relationship with a dog
took place when beaten, scoffed at for a temper tantrum, sitting and weeping in
the red dust of the piece of ground outside the classroom, we kids called
“Heder”, a dog approached me, pushed his wet, black nose into my tear covered
face, he even started licking me and, in return I slapped his snout. I didn’t
want him for my friend; I wanted humans for my friends. I never realized that a
dog could be my friend. This hasn’t made me believe that a dog is man’s best
friend. I still believe that there is no friend like a human friend and a dog
isn’t a replacement but dogs have earned our respect and love.
My
relationship with God was
different. I was really scared of Him. There was no slapping Him in the snout
and He didn’t come rubbing his wet nose in my face. I certainly didn’t see Him
as my friend. He was just scary and I didn’t need a picture or a statue to tell
me this; I had my own fertile imagination. All I needed to know about Him was
that He created the world. The moment I became convinced of this He was mine
and I was His. Everything depended on Him, nothing else matters. This belief is
important nothing else, but belief in Him is important. At the beginning of our
relationship I subjected myself to daily prayers, study of His Torah, eating
kosher, keeping Shabbat etc. Now I don’t do any of those things. I would if
they were necessary for my belief, but they’re not. I believe very well without
them. I’m not poo pooing those customs; I’m just saying that I know them and
they’re not important for me personally. Each one must decide for
himself how he’s going to relate to God. This is my way.
Wishing you a good day
Yours truly
Leon Gork
