My dearest child,
Now that you have emerged just a bit and reentered my life on Yom Kippur, I would like to share a few words with you as we begin the holiday of Sukkot.
On the holy day of Yom Kippur I realized how lonely you must have been all alone inside of me for all these years. As I blessed you, my child, I came to understand that you are the purest part of me. You are the best of me. How sad that I did not recognize this earlier. On Yom Kippur I came in touch with you – and what a delight. You are so beautiful. I just wanted to tell you that.
You are not to blame for all the problems that you endured years ago. You are not bad, even when bad things were done to you.
On Yom Kippur I appealed to you: Please forgive me. Forgive me for ignoring you. Forgive me for not nurturing you. Forgive my iniquities. Be kind to me as I try to be kind to you. Just as I forgive you for hiding yourself from me all this time, causing me great anguish, please forgive me.
On Yom Kippur we were reintroduced to each other. Now, on Sukkot, I want to celebrate with you. It’s been so long. So, so long. For years I have been running, trying to hide, attempting to soothe myself. And all along you were there – waiting to be soothed, waiting to be loved and embraced unconditionally. Had I only known that and responded to your cries you would have soothed me more than anyone or anything could ever.
But now, let us make up for lost time and let us celebrate together. And when better to do so than on Sukkot?
For years I thought that the best way to create security is by building us an expensive house. I accumulated furnishings and other material delights. I build up equity and threw fancy parties. We went on exotic trips and visited the most beautiful islands. I felt that this was the path to success; the only way to keep us safe. How wrong I was.
All along you were trying to whisper to me that you saw our structure not as an expansive palace, but as a stone dungeon, a lifeless house. All the expensive furnishings and elaborate accruements were, for you, ostentatious distractions. All you wanted was a warm and nurturing home. And when whispering didn’t work, you acted out, kicking and screaming. I misunderstood and dismissed your frustration as just another immature tantrum, reflecting a loathsome aspect of myself. Instead of seeing it as a cry for help I not only ignored you; I actually punished you further by shutting you up and invalidating you yet again. I am so sorry.
Now on Sukkot, I realize the superficial impermanence of our man-made structures. As we move out of the static walls into small, makeshift Sukkah, I understand what you truly cherish: The inner beauty of a simple home – simple and plain, but one that is filled with an inner glow and comes alive as our family sings into the night.
This is what you wanted all along: A warm cozy Sukkah, rather than a numb fortress. So now, I want to invite you into the embrace of our Sukkah. Let us enter this portable hut and bask in its protective “clouds of glory,” cradled by the Divine wings that spread from above as we sit in the Sukkah of the “shadow of faith.”
You always beckoned me, in silence or in sound, to reintegrate you into my life. I refused you, thinking that I was smart enough to know what to do. You told me that you sought integrity; you craved someone pure to love. Instead, I was seduced by externals – by glamour, status, money and the opinions of others. Truth be told, I had no clue you existed, even as you sent me daily signals that took the shape of distrust – of myself and of others, self-loathing, unhealthy relationships, fabricated intimacies. I have been living a fragmented life in order to survive; compartmentalizing in order to function. Ignoring the deepest voices from within, the need for the simple life, loving and being loved, without all the concocted smokescreens camouflaging what really matters.
Now on Sukkot, when we take and bind the four species as one, I want to rebind myself with all of you, with all your parts – regardless whether they have a taste or smell, one or the other, both or neither.
I have had enough splinters in my life. Now I want to just rest my head, and allow you to rest your head, in peace, both of us as one.
Yes, my dear child, I have missed you, perhaps more than you have missed me.
I do love you. I truly do. All of you. I want you in my life, and hope that you want me in yours.
I will do my adult part. I will create a beautiful hearth for you. Always know that you are wanted and needed. Always know that you have a safe and secure place in my home, in my life – in my heart and soul.
Please give me a chance to prove myself. I will use all my powers to always protect you.
On this Sukkot come sit beside me in our warm and comfortable cloud. Allow my Sukkah to hug and embrace you. Allow the four species to integrate you. We will sing together, maybe dance a bit, and reacquaint.
It’s about time.
Oh, how I’ve missed you.
With the deepest love,