Last week, I told you how the Biala Rebbe was coming to our house. And I’ve gotten a bunch of emails/Facebooks/twittery questions back, asking the question that should be self-evident: What did he say?
First, let me tell you what I think. I think the Rebbe sees things that the rest of us don’t see. I don’t know if he’s hooked up to any otherworldly powers or has a direct line to G*d that the rest of us don’t. But I do think that he’s a professional at this sort of thing. The same way that, more than a normal person, a psychologist is going to watch me chewing on my cuticle and know that it probably relates to the fact that I’m always hungry — I mean, of course they will, it’s their job — the Rebbe also picks up on stuff. Maybe it’s tiny physical movements. Maybe it’s our auras. I don’t know.
My wife and I sat down with the Rebbe. Immediately, before he asked our names (he always asks our names), he turned to her and said: “You’re loved from above, and you’re loved below. Why are you always stressing out?”
Case in point. It’s not like other people aren’t stressed. It’s not like 98% of the people there weren’t stressed. But, in her case — this week, and the certain circumstances in our lives and what was going on — yeah, it was pretty freaking relevant. If I would’ve had to pick a single topic to talk about, it would be the amount of stress that we (and, specifically, she) are under.
So, go fig.
It was a really weird night. Awesome, but weird. I’d kind of figured that it would be a party of sorts, since the Rebbe sees people one at a time and a bunch of us were waiting — but it wasn’t that kind of atmosphere at all. We sat around. We made small talk. It wasn’t fun small talk, though; it was the kind of small talk that you make while you’re waiting for the results of a particularly invasive exam. Everyone was half in that room and half in their own heads, thinking about what they wanted to say. When a random man with whom you have no straight connection flies from Israel, and you can talk to him about anything, it’s a horrible kind of freedom. What’s the most important thing in your life? How do you sum that up? What do you ask for a blessing for — your kids, your job, your books? Everything?