16 - Lessons on Kabbalah

Thought I'd arrived in the looney bin the way all five veterinary staff were oohing and ahhing and baby-talking to my dog as we stepped through the threshold of the office. Really, they were going ga-ga about how cute, how sweet, how excited he was, each of them calling him by name. It seemed way over the top and was more gooey affection than I think the dog has ever received.

When I walk into the pediatrician's office with my truly gush-worthy adorable triplets the staff barely even says hello. They have never greeted me much less my children with more than a glance. Aware of the numerous issues, I have made every attempt to make nice, introduce myself, ask for their names, call them by name. Once I even brought chocolate for the front staff. Still, no smiles, no love. What's wrong with this picture?

The beauty of this omer counting practice is that I can't do it prematurely. The mitzvah requires counting after nightfall which cultivates a certain waiting and listening for the message to become clear. Just like the practice of Spiritual Direction cultivates discernment. Sure, this morning I was sure that I could write a whole entry about how I no longer think dogs are people, even though they might think themselves human, and that with huge expenses and time demands from four children my dogs have been demoted back to canines.

One story I will still share is how I responded aghast to someone who asked while I was pregnant what we would do with the dogs once the triplets arrived. “What will you do with your child when you have another one?” I questioned. Ha! Now it's time for me to admit that I was illusional. Mea culpa. S'licha. During one near breakdown during the first survival year, with great awareness of my limited resources – time, money and sanity, I decided the dogs were done. My first baby and her adopted buddy had become a burden I couldn't bear so my husband claimed sole responsibility for their care. Still here, there's no chance they'll get to go to day care as my vet suggested today unless I can easily afford to enroll my real human children in classes.

Earlier I honked at a car that was picking up speed driving in the shoulder and possibly pulling out into my lane and her pedestrian friend yelled out a nasty comment to me. Before that I stopped at a green light for an imminently approaching ambulance and the car in the left lane gunned it through the intersection. Things like this make me so mad. Not road rage mad, just frustrated and sad. Why are people so on edge? Or so indifferent?

I trust my childrens' lives to the pediatrician's office and they can't even bring themselves to smile and be friendly. When I call with an issue I have to leave a message and it takes hours to get a call back; the vet office talked to me right then, and called me back exactly when promised with a message from the doc. They scheduled me for the very next morning; getting an urgent appointment at the pediatrician's office takes pressure, sometimes a demand. Several times my attempts failed and I had to go to the ER with a $150 co-pay (per child!) because the pediatric practice schedule was full. Many times I have considered switching offices and probably will do it one day, but I love our doctor. She is the reason we chose this practice and the reason we stay.

The contrast between the Veterinary Office and the Pediatrician's office is stark. Although I try to shy away from politics this is surely about health care policy and our country's priorities. Backed up by the huge rise in pets given up for adoption because their owners can't afford to feed themselves in this economy let alone feed their pets, I know pet ownership is a luxury. And this veterinary office has more art on the walls than my childrens' pediatric office.

Health care for humans is not a luxury, it is a right. And providers should be just as excited and eager to see each patient as these crazy animal people are to see my hyper dog. An enthusiastic reception from my vet people shouldn't be such a surprise. Service like that should be expected and required from all health care providers – especially those who treat humans, who save our lives and support our return to health. Medicine is medical, I get that, yet people are more than bodies. We are souls and need to be treated as such.

In Hebrew the word for reception (such as at a hotel) is kabbalah. Hospitality is implied in every meeting and greeting. Within the word is the action of welcoming the person who approaches with the same mystical and sacred intent as with which we receive revelation, light, and all the greatest gifts. That is how my dog was greeted today and should be how we each greet each other in every instance.


And, for this 16th day, two weeks and 2 days of the omer, I offer a blessing for justice and dignity, for honor and love. For every member of our human family, and also for our animal friends.

Today is the 16th day of the Omer.


Practice: It's a good time to practice breathing. In. Out. Slower inhale, slower exhale. Deeper inhale, deeper exhale. Inhale peace and goodness, exhale and let go, release. Breath life, your soul. Follow the circle of life in and out of your body, with curious attention to your breath. With each breath, relax a different part of your body, beginning with the top of your head, slowly through each area, all the way to your toes. Let balance and love and compassion establish themselves in your present moment.