Thresholds: How to Thrive Through Life's Transitions to Live Fearlessly and Regret-Free - Hardcover

Hirsch, Sherre

Hardcover

ISBN 10: 0307590836 ISBN 13: 9780307590831

Verlag: Harmony, 2015

Inhaltsangabe

Whether it’s our cozy bedroom, our toy-strewn family room, or our newly renovated kitchen, we all have our favorite rooms in our homes.  But when do we ever think about the thresholds? We spend a lot of time traversing thresholds - both in our homes, and in our lives.
 
Of course, this is not a book about how to build a house; it is book about how build a rich and rewarding life.  When I talk about the thresholds of life, I am referring to those times of transition; when we are moving from the way we were accustomed to living to a new way of thinking, feeling, and being.
 
Every one of us will experience many such moments. Some will be exciting - a new job, a marriage, the birth of a child. Others - the death of a parent, an empty nest, a divorce –  will be painful. Either way, crossing from a “room” that is comfortable and familiar into one that feels uncertain and unpredictable, can be terrifying. 

But what if, instead of viewing these thresholds as barriers or obstacles, you could see them as doorways to bigger and better opportunities? If you could embrace change as a wellspring of motivation rather than a source of fear? If the thought of the unknown future left you feeling empowered and excited, instead of paralyzed?

Here, Sherre Hirsch draws on decades of counseling individuals of all faiths and religions, the wisdom of ancient stories, research from psychology, and tales from real life, to help readers summon the faith, courage, and confidence to embrace the exhilarating new possibilities and experiences that lie across the threshold.   With her signature warmth and empathic style, Hirsch, like a trusted friend,  wise counselor, and spiritual advisor rolled into one, guides readers through the most challenging – and the most blessed – transitions of their one precious life.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

For over 20 years, Rabbi Sherre Hirsch has been sharing her intimate counsel and wisdom with people in all kinds of “pulpits,” ranging from her congregation at the Sinai Temple Los Angeles to corporate auditoriums to small Southern Baptist churches. She serves as the spiritual life consultant for Canyon Ranch Properties and is a highly sought-after inspirational speaker and teacher. She is the author of We Plan, God Laughs and has contributed to many publications including O Magazine, Time, Olam, and the Daily Beast. She has appeared on the Today Show, ABC News Now, Anderson Cooper 360, and more, and rounds out her time counseling individuals in her private practice.  She is the mother of four children and the wife of Dr. Jeffrey Hirsch. 

Hirsch’s mission is to empower individuals to be their own spiritual guides. Visit her at www.SherreHirsch.com or follow her on twitter @sherrehirsch.

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Chapter 1

Crossing Thresholds Is Scary, I Know

Nothing in this world is worth having or doing unless it means effort, pain, difficulty. . . . I have never in my life envied a human being who led an easy life. I have envied a great many people who led difficult lives and led them well.

--Theodore Roosevelt

In my sixth month of newlywedism (is that a word?), the phone rang at 6:00 a.m. Who calls at that hour? I reached over my husband and pulled the portable phone to my ear. “Yes.” There was silence. Then I heard a voice. A voice that I recognized but that I had not heard in a long time. “Hello, Sherre?” “Dad, is that you?” Silence again. “Is anything wrong?” “Yes, something is very wrong.”

My dad and I had always had a very tough relationship. He was not an easy father. I remember as a child seeing the movie The Great Santini and walking out afterward thinking the movie was a biography of my father. He was moody, volatile, and demanding. He ruled our home with an iron fist. He liked to be in control of everyone and everything. And if we fell out of line, he was quick to let us know. But my father could also be spontaneous, charismatic, and fun. He would surprise us--taking us out of school in the middle of the day to go to Disneyland or Palm Springs. But since I never knew who he was going to be, Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde, it was hard for me to feel comfortable, let alone safe, around him most of the time. I spent most of my childhood living in fear of him.

By the time I graduated from high school, I was desperate for a different life. I moved across the country to go to college and declared myself financially independent. I did not want to be dependent on him anymore in any way--emotionally or financially. And the truth was that he seemed relieved.

By the time I graduated from college four years later, my parents were divorcing after twenty-nine years of marriage. Their separation was long overdue. And as they unraveled, I found myself divorcing my father as well. I began to speak to him less and less; I saw him more infrequently. I thought that at first I would miss him; but the truth was that I too was relieved.

As I made my way through my twenties, I heard from my brother that our father had moved to Washington, D.C.--just a few hours from where I was making a life for myself in New York City--but I did not make any grand efforts to see him, nor did he make any to see me. I had become so estranged from him over those years that I did not even invite him to my ordination from rabbinical school, as it would have felt like I was hosting a stranger. I knew he was hurt. He called. But by this point I was ambivalent about him and our relationship.

When I got engaged to my husband, Jeff, I debated whether to call my father to tell him. Never before had I thought about inserting him back into my life. But I had been serving as a congregational rabbi and I had counseled many people who had troubled relationships with one or both of their parents. I thought it was time that I faced my own head on.

He came to my wedding. He did not walk me down the aisle. That would have been silly. Afterward I thought that I would be proud of myself for taking the high road, but the truth was that I felt pretty neutral. I did not know him anymore. Even though he was my father, he was not a parent. Nor was he a friend. I was not sure what box to put him in.

So when the phone rang that morning, I was not prepared for his call, let alone the words that came out next. “Sherre, I have pancreatic cancer and I am going to die. I want to come to Los Angeles to be with you. I want you to care for me.” I thought I was going to vomit right then and there. Was he kidding? I was newly married and I had barely seen him in twelve years. Plus, my brother and he had been in much closer touch over the years. I could not figure out why he would not want to go to San Francisco, where my brother lived.

I took a deep breath. I had thought that the first words out of my mouth would be “Absolutely not.” But instead I heard myself say, “I will think about it, Dad,” and I hung up. By this point my husband was standing beside me taking in the stunned look on my face. I explained the situation and then he asked the most reasonable question ever. “What are you going to do?”

If there ever was a threshold, a liminal moment of not knowing what to do, I was standing in the middle of it. Would I agree to care for my dying father--a man whom I’d feared and resented throughout my childhood and with whom I now had virtually zero relationship? Or would I refuse? Would I beg my brother to help me? Or would I do nothing and wait for the situation to resolve itself?

At first I was so angry. My life was finally coming together. I was married to a wonderful man. I was working as a rabbi in a job I loved. My mother was happy and lived close to me. Why was my father disturbing my happiness?

But then I realized how shortsighted I was being. My father was not doing anything to me. He had not asked for cancer. He was simply behaving in the way that he always had, thinking of what was best for him. And what was best for him was for me to care for him in Los Angeles. But that did not mean I had to be resentful of him. Nor did it mean I had to acquiesce to him. I was no longer his child living under his roof. I had choices. I could decide what I wanted to do. And there was no obviously wrong or right decision. I could decline his request, and it would make sense because he had not been a caring father to me. But I also could agree to his request because I wanted to care for him as I cared for so many other people in my congregation whom I had no real bond with. I could support his move to Los Angeles or I could not.

As I was deciding, I consulted my therapist, my rabbi, my husband, and my friends. Everyone had his or her opinions. “He was the worst father. Walk away and never look back.” “Take care of him. You take care of everyone else.” “Offer to help because you may regret not helping him later, when he dies.” “Don’t do anything yet; just wait and see what happens.”

What everyone’s advice made clear to me was that I needed to make the decision on my own, and no matter what room I chose to enter, I had no way of knowing what I would find there. If I took care of him, I might feel relieved but I might feel resentful. If I didn’t, I might feel regretful or I might feel hypocritical. Either way, I might feel like I had made the wrong decision.

I was terrified. If I cared for him, was I inviting drama back into my life? Would I be able to withstand it? But if I didn’t, would I regret it my entire life? Would I always look back and think I should have cared for him before he died? I spent a lot of time deliberating. I realized that I could not change my childhood. I could not change my father. But I could choose how I wanted to respond now. There was no “correct” answer. The outcome would not be perfect because there was no perfect. If my father suddenly became the father I dreamed of in his last months of life, then I would mourn all the years we had lost. If my father continued to be the person that he had always been, then I would continue to mourn the relationship I wished we could have had.

I decided that to cross this threshold--to make the decision--I needed to learn to live with the fact that I wouldn’t know what the outcome would be until it happened. But as long as I didn’t cling to this narrow vision of what was supposed to happen, and I was open to whatever happened, then I could go forward with faith in myself that it would be okay. That I would be...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Harmony
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2015
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0307590836
• ISBN 13: 9780307590831
• Einband: Gebundene Ausgabe
• Anzahl der Seiten: 192
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: Nicht verfügbar