The conception of the world began in a moment, sparking the beginning of time, galvanizing matter, bringing order out of chaos, as the universe expanded. Then the original light of the world was spoken into existence by the Creator, Who also separated between light and darkness. Let us understand, that this light appeared before the sun, moon and stars, the luminaries of the sky. For, those were not created in the sequential order of things until the fourth day. The light, called into being on Day One, is described in the original Hebrew of the Bible as ohr.
The past will fold back into itself like dust, returning to the earth, as the light draws us toward that perfect day, when all of creation is renewed. Then ohrchadash, the original light of creation, that has been hidden away until this day, will resurface for the righteous to enjoy, as crowns are placed upon their heads. And, the night will no longer consume the sun, nor will death cast its shadow anymore over mankind. All will live in harmony with G-d, mankind, and creation. Even the natural world will be at peace with itself when the lion lies down with the lamb.
Beginning in the 1980’s, an epidemic of cases were reported across the States, having to do with childhood trauma. What appeared to be an epidemic was mostly the result of what today is a widely discredited type of pseudo-therapy called recovered memory therapy. Through psychological priming of information, guided imagery, hypnosis, and dream interpretation, many people’s lives were turned upside down, having been coerced into believing in what never happened. It is a story that must be told, to let the healing unfold, and prevent similar psychological contagions from occurring again.
Over the course of ten years, my childhood recollections were obscured, as dark memories began to surface, during office visits with my therapist. The innocence of my youth became corrupted by the shadows that passed before my eyes. My therapist painted an ever-changing picture of an array of implications. He cast doubts in my mind about my family, tempering the unpleasant into the horrific. Needless to say, this took a toll on my psyche, bringing me into the depths of my own private hell.
Until, one day, I was released from bondage to this evil form of therapy and gained distance both geographically and timewise from my therapist. Divine guidance led me to the False Memory Syndrome Foundation, where I first learned about the flexible nature of memory. Upon returning to the Southwest, one day, in a moment of revelation, everything changed when I realized that all of these shadows were nothing more than empty lies. Only recently, have I been able to “reclaim my past,” by reviewing my actual memories of childhood and young adulthood, in order to see them within the true light granted to me from Above.
Somewhere, across the night, a soul wanders past midnight, without a home to call one’s own. Once, at 3 a.m., I had the light on in my apartment. Someone, ran from across the parking lot to my door, immediately going for the doorknob, trying to unlock the door without even knocking. Sure, in retrospect, I have more compassion for him than I did at the time. Yet, the survival instinct kicks in immediately upon threat; so, of course, I did not open the door at that time. This is despite the fact that I have opened my door, so to speak, for near strangers, even several, that I had only met that day, and gave them a place to rest for the night. However, unless one embraces a policy of radical charity, it is necessary to draw a fine line at times.
Then there is the time that I invited a friend of mine over for Passover, a number of years ago. He knocked on my door a little earlier than expected. He told me that he had met someone in the park, who might like to attend the seder. I was hesitant; I decided not to grant the invite to the stranger whom he had met, moreso out of selfish reasons, than anything else. I was looking forward to a night of discussion on the various passages of the Haggadah, wherein my friend and I would each share our own insights. I was unwilling to have any disturbance of that endeavor, even for the sake of hospitality.
Yet, in not granting permission to have another guest at my table, I missed the mark and inadvertently went against the words found in the very Haggadah that we read from that night. “All who are hungry – come and eat. All who are needy – come join the Passover celebration. Whether or not I’ll get another chance to do the right thing in a similar circumstance, I do not know. And, so, my obstinacy that night may continue to echo as silent reminder of my negligence.