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Sivan's Blog "WHO Sivan, is it that you would choose, that does not deserve to be loved?”
"WHO Sivan, is it that you would choose, that does not deserve to be loved?”
My teacher spoke, while looking at me with his intensely piercing, but loving eyes. Responding to my judgmental comments about some new students that were in his life.
Those words were like a sword being thrust into my heart. Slicing away my anger. Slicing away my jealousy. Slicing away my judgment. My mind riddled with confusion and fear; ultimately forcing me to face my own pain. My pain. About being forgotten. About being unloved. About not being important. About being left out. About being forsaken. About being alone. About being frightened. Did I really want anyone else to feel all of these acutely dark feelings that had left me feeling a horrible foreboding or doomed most of the time for most of my life. Was I actually really wishing my curse on anyone else. The curse that secretly kept me driven to find answers. The curse that made me into an robotic, overachieving workaholic.
Suddenly, my mind was thrust back to an incident that had happened with my teacher, several months before.
That day had started innocently enough. It was our usual Sunday meeting and then hanging out. I drove all the way to a city somewhat near the coast. On Sunday's my teacher would spend several hours working with a group of people numbering anywhere from 50 to 70. After that, many of us would often go to someone’s house that lived in the area and try to optimize our time with our teacher. Because I drove so far, I would more likely leave early.
However, on that particular Sunday, my teacher asked me if I would drive him home. He lived an hour away, that was not completely out of my way, but was not a direct route home for me and did add about 20-30 minutes to my drive. There was also the unknown factor of when he would decide to leave. And, the next day was Monday, and I had to be at work at 8:00 am. Despite all of these worries, I was so honored and excited that he asked me to drive him home, that I could do nothing but beamingly say 'YES!' And, that is how this fateful afternoon began.
Someone had invited some new people over to meet our teacher. He was spending time talking to us (his students), but also as the day wore on, he began to speak more and more to the new people. Which, I told myself that I did not mind at all. Especially since I would get to talk to him for a whole hour by myself, driving home.
Over time, his regular students began leaving. He was at this point talking almost solely to the new people. It was around 7:00 pm when he first told me to pack his things in my car to get ready to leave. I proudly and carefully and strongly carried his things and packed them into my car. There was a large cooler, a suitcase and backpack and some other odds and ends. It took two trips to get everything. I then went back into the house where he was still talking to the new people. I feigned (really well for awhile) patience.
After about an hour, he looked at me and said that he thought maybe it was better for him to spend the night there. He asked me to unpack his things from my car and bring them back in the house. At this point, I was okay with that. I thought, well, it’s probably better that I start back home right now. So, I went to my car, unpacked it, and brought everything back in the house. Again, two trips. I told him that I thought I would leave, since he would not need me to drive him home. He asked me to wait. He said that he had not quite made up his mind. So, I, again, graciously, patiently waited. All the while, he continued to talk to the new people.
While I tried very hard to not have negative thoughts, I could not help it. My mind begin to wonder why these new people took precedence over me. Why were they more important. Why was he spending more time with them. Why was he ignoring me. Why was he not concerned about the fact that I still had quite a drive home and that the longer he had me wait, the later I would get home. Why was my sleep not important. What was I doing there??? Who were these people anyway?? My mind begin to spiral out of control. However, I still felt that I could hide it. I still felt that I could at the very least keep my mouth shut and follow instructions. While darkness descended over my reason.
About 20 minutes later, he said that he had changed his mind and wanted to go home at once. He asked me to repack my car with his things. I immediately did so, with great relief! I thought I could now, calm myself down, get to spend time with him and not get home at such an unreasonable hour. When I finished, I went back into the house, fully expecting him to be saying his good-byes. He was STILL talking to the new people. My anger was bubbling out of control. I was feeling feelings I was not sure I had ever felt. So much pain. So much jealousy. So much loss and deprivation. I decided to stay kind of away from everyone, for fear that I could not hide my feelings. I told my teacher that I would be waiting for him. I sat on the stairs. Shaking. My eyes began tearing up.
A few minutes later he called to me. I went to the place where he was talking to the new people. He said that he had changed his mind again. He wanted to stay. He asked me to please take his things out of my car. I quickly turned and practically ran to take the things out of my car. No longer proud. No longer careful. No longer strong. In fact, quite the contrary.
After I brought everything back in. I sat on the stairs again. Not bothering to go to the place where he was. I was not sure what he wanted me to do and was sure he would tell me if it was okay with him if I left. Fairly quickly, he called to me again. I cautiously ascended the stairs. Begging God, to help me hide my rage. I reached the opening to the room he was in and I stopped in the doorway. I waited for his instructions. He looked at me and told me that he had changed his mind once again, was ready to leave and could I take his things back to my car. I could no longer hide my feelings. I was ready to explode. My face I am sure was some exaggerated contortion of a mix of rage and insanity.
Sal, was the name of the man that brought the new people. He was around 50. An Italian man, ex-New Yorker. Very sarcastic, witty, funny and fun to be around. He and I had become great friends in the short time that we had known our teacher. He was watching me as our teacher told me once again to pack the car. He begin laughing and said to me that my bad attitude was going to get me fired. Yes, you guessed it. I snapped. I lost it. Fast. Sharp. Uncontrolled. I jerked my head towards him, growled and screamed a remark I will not repeat here. But it included an expletive.
Instantly I was horrified beyond measure. Horrified that I had behaved in such an outrageous manner in front of the new people and more desperately painfully, in front of my dear teacher. I ran off in blind rage, searing pain and inconsolable humiliation. I ran down a hall and threw myself into the farthest corner possible. I put my head in my knees, and covered my head and face with my arms and sobbed uncontrollably. I no longer had any awareness of space, time or other people. Waves and waves of pain and madness swept over me. Pain of lifetimes, of ages, of the world. From the deep bowels of creation. Pain that I had never felt before, but felt that I had spent my life running away from. Pain that had no beginning and no end. Pain that had no words and no thoughts. It was as if darkness had become me.
After some time, but I had no awareness of how much time, I became aware that someone had come down and sat next to me. That person, took one of my hands in their hand. The woman that lived in the house that we were in had not been home earlier. But, I assumed she came home and was reaching out to me. It was so comforting. I was deeply touched by her concern and generosity. My body was still wracking with sobs. But, the pain became far less acute and I became immersed in an experience of great sorrow. Still, I could not manage moving away from it. However, my entire life had been based on the fact that I sincerely believed (and felt I had proof) that no one cared about me. Period. No exceptions. Now, here was an act of kindness that I could not process through those beliefs and feelings of not being cared about. Someone was caring about me. That fact began creating fissures in the massive pain I was experiencing. And, finally, literally hours later, I stopped crying and raised my head.
I was shocked. Beyond shocked. It was my teacher. What? He had spent hours with me, sitting patiently on the floor, holding my hand. Was this the man that did not care about me? I was overwhelmed and humbled with gratitude. No words were spoken. He told me that I should get some sleep before going home. However, it was five in the morning and I had to leave then to get home and to work on time. I thanked him and left. Feeling cleansed and purified in such a deep way.
And here I was, months later. The same feelings. Angry. Resentful. Jealous. As he looked at me and spoke those words and I remembered that night. . .the night I was swallowed by pain. I could not believe that I had forgotten such a beautiful gift. Such a beautiful lesson. Such incredible generosity.
No. There were many I judged. Many I did not like. Many I was jealous of. None of them, could I really find myself wanting to sentence to my experience of life. Right then, I made a pact and promise to myself, that I would never again judge someone’s worth as his student, or as someone who should deserve to receive love.
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