Lazer Beams

The Truth about Anger Management

"Normal" doesn't necessarily mean "healthy". A cave dweller thinks that darkness is normal, and can't fathom the beauty and the benefits of sunlight. In the same way, tranquility is so elusive today that many people don't even consider it a realistic emotional goal. Yet, if we want to escape a lifelong fate of emotional darkness, we desperately need to find a way back into the "emotional sunlight" that is the birthright of each and every one of us.

A good example of this confusion between "normal" and "healthy" comes from the American Psychological Association. In their position paper on anger, they conclude:"Remember, you can't eliminate anger - and it wouldn't be a good idea if you could. Anger is a natural, adaptive response to threats; it inspires powerful, often aggressive, feelings and behaviors, which allow us to fight and to defend ourselves when we are attacked. A certain amount of anger, therefore, is necessary to our survival."

These words strike me as most peculiar. They seem to assume that we all live in a dangerous jungle, where only the biggest, angriest inhabitants manage to survive. In fact, I can testify from my own personal combat experience in one of the world's most elite military units that anger clouds decisions and lowers effectiveness. If we're talking about survival, an angry soldier is far less likely to survive that a calm one. A good soldier has to be cool-headed in order to function at an optimal level. An angry soldier, by contrast, is a menace to both himself and his brothers in arms. And if that's true in the high-stress battlefield arena, it's certainly true on the city streets.

Most of conventional psychology's anger-management programs are based on the faulty assumption that "containable" anger is a good and even necessary thing. For example, the APA suggests that with anger management therapy "a highly angry person can move closer to a middle range of anger in about 8 to 10 weeks". Translated, that means that you won't break windows anymore, but you'll still be gritting your teeth, clenching your fists, and maintaining your candidacy for heart disease and strokes.

The basic flaw with this approach is easy to understand once you realize an important truth about anger: Fundamentally, anger is an addiction. And you can't "manage" an addiction - as any drug, tobacco, or alcohol rehabilitation specialist will tell you. An alcoholic can't limit himself to two Bloody Marys a day, just as a heavy smoker can't cut back to five cigarettes a day. The results are not permanent! Addiction management requires a huge amount of sustained willpower. Why invest so much physical and emotional energy when better options are available?

Oh, you'd like an example of a better option than substances or anger management? Try combining walking with personal prayer. The Trail to Tranquility will also make a dramatic change in your life for the better. Anger's a drag; it's the real chometz that we have to get out of our hearts before Pesach.

The Path to Inner Peace - part 4

The Road to Inner Peace, Part 2

Here's the continuation of yesterday's lesson:

The Road to Inner Peace, Part 1

This lesson was given last month in the Carlebach Shul in Ramat Bet Shemesh, Israel. Enjoy it.

When the Kassam hits close to home...

Condi should see my mailbox, and then kindly remove her nose from the affairs of our beloved holy homeland. Here's a letter from this past Saturday night:

Dear Rabbi Brody,

We live on a moshav south of Ashkelon. Up until now, terrorism wasn't a daily issue in our lives like it is in Sderot. As long as my wife and I would keep our seven-year-old (our only child, and precious to us!) away from the evening news, he was just as happy and cheerful as any child could be.

Two weeks ago, everything changed. A Kassam rocket fired from Gaza fell on our street just as my son was coming home from school. Thank goodness he wasn't hit, but the repulsion of the blast knocked him off his feet. We took him to Barzelai hospital in Ashkelon for post-shock checkup and treatment, and after a day of observation and tests, he was released home.

Since the trauma, he refuses frantically to go to school. My wife has missed two weeks of work staying home with him. She's become a ball of loose nerve ends, because our son won't eat, and has lost considerable weight. He won't sleep alone in his bedroom, and comes into ours. We don't have the heart to put him back in his own room, but naturally, a husband and wife can't go on forever like this. We've been twice to a child psychologist who has a lot of experience with the children of Sderot, but our son doesn't react. My wife and I are at our wits end. By a stroke of luck, I heard about you from Arutz 7. I appeal to you, give me some urgent advice what to do. Thank you, A.T., Southern Israel

Dear A.T.,

There's no such thing as "a stroke of luck". The people of Israel are above luck and under G-d's never-ending care. The Kassam rocket is The Almighty's way of grabbing your attention. First, I'll give you a few suggestions about what to do for your son, then we'll talk about you.

1. Under no circumstance should a child sleep the night in a parent's bed. Add an additional bed to your son's room, and go to sleep with him. Talk to him and tell him beautiful stories. Buy a book of bible stories, and tell him how G-d has always saves us from our enemies. This month especially, tell him the story of Chanuka, how a family of 5 loyal Jewish brothers fought against the Greeks and a whole nation of assimilationists. Then say "Shma Yisrael" together. After he falls asleep (and he will, because anything out of the Torah will relax his frightened soul, a fact that your child psychologist has overlooked or does not know), move back to your own bedroom. After a week or two, your son will be back to sleeping solo.

2. It's a shame that your seven year-old is an only child. I'm sure you understand my intention.

3. Wean him back to school. For a few days, have your wife take him in the morning and pick him up in the afternoon. Gradually, you'll be able to phase that out and in two weeks, G-d willing, she'll be back to work.

4. Feed your son his favorite foods, but no junk food. Take him to the supermarket, let him pick out the food he likes, and then let him share in the preparation. Turn his meals into a fun experience of family togetherness, and his appetite will be back in no time. Feed him kosher food only and worm-free leafy vegetables.

5. Don't spend his waking hours in front of the TV. Go for walks and hikes, and build his confidence.

6. If you really love your son, and are truly concerned about his emotional welfare, you have to include Hashem in your lives. The more you turn to G-d, the more your son will forget the trauma and overcome fear. Only by learning emuna and trust in G-d, does one gain genuine tranquility of mind and soul. That's the only way that the settlers of Hevron maintain their spiritual and emotional health under constant threats of terror.

A.T., in my humble opinion, The Almighty went to extremes in order to awaken you and your wife from your spiritual slumber. The Kassam missile was a blessing in disguise, otherwise you may have spent the rest of your life chasing material amenities and watching the soccer games on TV. What about your soul? Why rob your son of his rightful heritage? In public school, he'll grow up a spiritual ignoramus.

Listen, I know it's difficult, but if you want my guarantee that your son will be 100% OK (will the child psychologist also give you a guarantee, or just continue taking your hard-earned money?), you need to begin doing three things: First, eat kosher food only. Second, no driving the car or turning on the TV on Shabbat. Third, take your son to the synagogue in your moshav on Friday night, then come home to a festive family meal. If you begin learning about Judaism and teaching your son, you have my word that with G-d's help, he'll be fine. Talk to Hashem in your own words every day. Kashrut, Shabbat, and prayer are three powerful weapons, much stronger than a hydrogen bomb, not to mention a Kassam rocket from some terrorist stable in Gaza. Keep me posted on your son's progress. My heartfelt blessings wishes for your family's success, LB

Slave to a Vicious Master

People often ask me what's wrong with casual smoking of hash or marijuana. I'll tell you what's wrong – these "light" substances are, to a certain extent, even more dangerous than heavy substances, because the problems they pose are not immediately obvious. A heroine addict is not likely to marry, and if he does, it probably won't be an orthodox Jewish marriage. But a person who smokes marijuana appears to function normally. He usually holds down a job and gets married. Yet he will be greatly challenged in attaining Shalom Bayit, (marital harmony), may have greater difficulty in educating his kids properly, and find it almost impossible to serve Hashem (God), with his entire heart. The marijuana eventually affects his brain, and he may even reach a point where a joint takes precedence over his wife and children – and even Hashem! Marijuana causes people to become lethargic, lose their initiative, shirk responsibility. Basically, it causes people to lose their ability to function properly. Ultimately, they become slaves to a vicious master – their habit.

People who are slaves to their habits give the habit precedence over all else. As a result, they may behave cruelly and take extreme measures to fulfill their lusts, even to the point of letting their wives and children go hungry. Alcoholics are known to be self-indulgent; even when they don't have the money to pay the electric bill, they come up with money to purchase beer and wine.

Addicts – even functional ones, whether hooked on alcohol or drugs – see only themselves. They are the arch-prototype of egotists. Whenever I encounter a married substance abuser, I tell him categorically – it's either your wife or your habit. You can't have both. A wife needs a husband who's a giver – addicts are takers. They have no qualms about taking what doesn't even belong to them to satiate their urges...

Read the article in its entirety here at BreslovWorld

Ginger's Story - Part 2

The nurses called her Marti, a nickname for Martha. Marti - my neighbor in the adjacent hospital bed with the star of David around her neck - was from the Nashville area and here in the Birmingham vicinity visiting her aunt. Marti's appendix had burst, contaminating her system with enough toxins to pollute the Choctawhatchee Bay. She had also barely escaped attending her own funeral. So here we were, side by side, both recouperating from major traumas to our bodies. The difference was that Marti was smiling and humming all day long, and I was depressed and obnoxious. She was happy to be alive, and I wasn't.

I never realized how much of an egotist I was until I met Marti. I was always the center of attraction, the brightest in the class and the best-looking. The show was about me and me only. That bubble had burst. I was now looking like a vampire that suffered from malnutrition. My parents were devastated, panic-stricken and heartbroken; they cried the whole duration of their visits. I had to speak with someone else.

Like a gift from God, Marti was the best listener I ever met. She said nothing about herself unless I asked direct questions. She had the warmest, kindest demeanor I ever encountered and her shyness gave her the aura of a rare gem that you don't show to anyone on a street corner. She wrote gorgeous poetry and played the piccolo. Just being with her was soothing.

When I mustered up enough nerve, I asked her about the star of David around her neck. I had Jewish friends up at Wharton, but they seemed far-removed from religion. Marti surprised me by telling me that she's not Jewish, but a Noahide. I had to excuse my ignorance, for I didn't know the difference between a Noahide and a Lilliputian. She explained to me that she was born into a southern Baptist home (almost identical to mine), but with all due respect, she couldn't swallow their notion of religion and faith. She explained to me about the Old Testament, Mosaic Law, and Torah ethics, particularly the seven Noahide commandments. I was enthralled with her explanations, like a thirsty soul drinking fresh cool water from a bubbling brook.

I asked Marti why she didn't convert if she loves the Jewish Torah so much. She answered that the Torah was given to the Jews, but really it's everybody's Torah. Second, she said that her rabbi advises her to live her life as a righteous Noahide rather than as a convert struggling to keep hundreds of commandments.

"Rabbi? You have a rabbi?" I asked. She took a book out of her bedstand and showed it to me, telling me that the author is her rabbi. "Does he speak to non-Jews?" I asked. She then showed me a stack of email responses she had received to a variety of questions, ranging from meditation to career goals to husband hunting.

Marti, who had already heard the story of the double betrayal by my fiance and former roommate, then told me the amazing story of how she had been molested as a child by one of the most respected members of their church. The whole thing was hushed up, and she was left with all the post traumatic baggage. I couldn't believe how honey-sweet Marti confessed to being a silent time-bomb of revenge, hatred, and compulsion to even the score of twenty years ago when she was a tender little princess of nine. She had even taken gun lessons (piccolo-playing Marti!) entertaining a sadistic dream of destroying her tormentor, who still freely roamed the streets of Nashville as a respected clergyman and citizen. She too had experienced her scars torn wide open every time she heard his name, much less see him. She then opened the book in her hand to Chapter 5.

"Read this, Ginger. It showed me how to make peace with God, how He does everything for the best." I took the book, entitled "The Trail to Tranquility," and chug-a-lugged chapter 5 in one gulp. Rita Richards at the end of the chapter looked just like me. The book penetrated straight to my soul like a spiritual intravenous transfusion. I then flew back to the beginning of the book, and read the whole thing from cover to cover in less than five hours, savoring each word.

After reading the book a second time and a third, my thinking did a 180. My brain clicked on like a lightbulb. I suddenly realized what a gift from God that I had discovered Tommy's infidelity before getting married rather than down the road as a pregnant wife with 2 small youngins. I began to understand how the seemingly worst things in my life were really concealed gifts. I learned the true notion of faith, "emuna" as the author calls it. I became privy to a treasure of traditional wisdom that I never knew existed, rooted in the rabbinical masters of yesteryear, particularly the Rebbe of Breslev. I learned all about my soul and its needs.

Allow me to fast-forward twelve months. Marti and I are still best friends. Following my rabbi's advice, I have made a new start in a new area, and have virtually wiped the bitterness from my heart. I am totally alcohol and drug free, and I'm building a new career. I've become a Noahide, just like Marti, and one of (I'm sure) of many that has made Rabbi Lazer Brody my spiritual advisor. His book The Trail to Tranquility has saved my life, simply speaking with no exaggeration. If you feel stressed and angry, it could save your life too. It's only proper that I offer my humble gratitude to the Lord of Israel for helping me find a rabbi on the other end of the earth that cares whether about mending the broken heart of a total stranger. As they say in tennis, some people talk a good game, others play a good game.

It's mindboggling how everything's for the best. If I hadn't been in the hospital, I'd never have met Marti. If I'd never of met Marti, I'd have probably never become a Noahide that discovered the vault of Jewish wisdom (particularly The Trail to Tranquility) that would be the agent of my personal rescue.

Thank you for indulging. Rabbi Lazer, I agree with what David Soul said about you: You belong to humanity. With deepest feelings of respect and gratitude, Ginger (now somewhere in metropolitan Texas)

Sailing on the Choctawhatchee Bay in southern Alabama, the Emuna State.

Coping with a medical crisis - part 4

This is the concluding segment of Yocheved Golani's outstanding essay

Necessary Resources

As I wrote my text, I realized how many slip-ups and slowdowns in my medical care could have been prevented had my loved ones, friends, and I known about some necessary resources. So, I created a Resource Section in the back of my book for other people. It lists worldwide resources with full contact information for medical advice and treatment, clinical trials, free medication, transportation services to medical appointments, counseling organizations, excellent reading materials, several ethnic group needs, geographical locations and more. Who has benefited from the information so far? A South African rabbi seeking resources for a sick child in his congregation. A young woman in an Israeli seminary diagnosed with a brain tumor, the family of a baby with a most unusual case of cleft lip, and other grateful people experiencing medical crises found my listings of helpful outlets beneficial before my book has even been published!

Entitled "It's MY Crisis and I'll Cry if I Need To; A Lifebook for Drying Your Tears and Coping with a Medical Crisis," my book bears praises from Rabbi Dr. Avraham Twerski, a host of other medical and mental health practitioners and even clergy of other faiths. Mainstream and Jewish publishers are competing with each other for publication rights to sell it.

Live, Love and Let Go

This is the future I enabled the day I decided that I could not afford to fall on a cold tile floor in a dead faint anymore. I needed to get up, get real, and cope with my situation. I dialogued with HaKadosh Baruch Hu and understood the unfolding saga of my miraculous surgery and gradual recovery to be His answers. I became more compassionate with myself and with others. The love that friends lavished on me affected my soul. The blessings that HaShem showered upon me in the days and years that followed have been indescribable. I connected with the only doctor in Israel able and willing to perform necessary surgery. Friends gathered the funds to see me through a period of unemployment. I did not suffer death on the operating table or lifelong physical debilitation that medical professionals knew could have happened. The therapists who worked with me were brilliantly effective. I enjoy a full social life despite slight facial disfigurement. And the most amusing miracle of all is that I've written a book despite temporary blindness, double vision, and other daunting obstacles that kept getting in my way.

I still pause in silence from time to time over painful memories. I'm normal. And I am functional. I'll tell you how to master my method. Release the cold grip of fear around your head and heart again and again until it is gone. Speak out loud with HaShem and listen for His answers. Someone did you an unexpected favor? HaShem is hugging you. All your appointments went smoothly? Thank the LORD for order in your life. The clear weather helped you to commute to stores, social engagements or medical appointments, and even to cope better with pain? Hodu l'HaShem the thoughtful weather Man!

I invite you to recreate your lives as I've recreated mine. The decisions you make will be tailor-made for your specific situations, not copycats of mine. But what will be the same is that you will ACT by paying Attention to details, increasing Compassion for yourselves and those around you, and creating the Tenacity to recover from every shock, upset and setback along the way to your future. It won’t be easy, but the effort will be worthwhile. You'll realize this when you look yourself in the mirror and smile, after people remark "GOD you're fantastic for managing the way you do." Yes, they'll call you GOD because you will be reflecting the love of our Compassionate Father, Av Harachamim, with your behavior.

The Beam Team and Emuna Outreach thank Yocheved for her splendid essay, and pray for her good health, happiness, and success in all her endeavors.

Coping with a medical crisis - part 3

Continuation of Yocheved Golani's outstanding essay

License to Cry

We learn from the Talmud in Bava Metzia 59a "Even though the Gates of Prayer are closed (after the destruction of the grand Jewish Temple called Bait HaMikdash), the Gates of Tears are never closed."

GOD keeps the Gate of Tears open so we will cry to Him. Crying is part of our relationship with Him.

A medical crisis - you'd cry too, if it happened to you. Use your tissues and handkerchiefs with my blessings borne of experience. HaShem gives you Permission to Weep. And you can say that to any critics after explaining that "It's MY Crisis and I'll Cry if I Need To."

Hello, GOD, Hear Me Sing

I spent a lot of time planning strategies preceding my admission to the hospital, for my hospital stay and my return home. I prepared lists of foods and medicines to which I'm allergic so the information could be displayed over my hospital bed. I instructed friends about how to greet me as I came out of anesthesia. The song that I'd requested, "Kol haolam kulo," would remind me not to panic. I sang it often after surgery. I'm probably humming it as you read this essay.

Attract Happiness. It's a Mitzvah and a Medicine

It was hard to perform the mitzvah of "Ivdu et HaShem b'simcha." I was terrified. Just as Rabbi Brody advises in "Trail to Tranquility," I spent my time with a new hobby: being happy. I literally made a point of forcing myself to say upbeat things about the weather, food, sights and sounds, so I could reprogram my brain to think happy thoughts. If I gave in to dwelling on my fears that I might die during surgery or ending up paralyzed forever (realistic problems at the time), then I could have destroyed my will to live. The intentional habit paid off.

I became confident that HaShem would save me and that I'd have a life worth living again. I gave Him something to work with so that He could save upbeat me instead of salvaging (or possibly losing) the emotional wreck I could have become. Each time I had to be at the hospital to prepare paperwork or to see a doctor, I treated myself to a kosher fruit Smoothie. Focusing on the nutrition, pretty colors and taste eased my mind during painful and frightening doctor visits. The medical staff was almost incredulous to learn that I do not smoke or drink as a rule, and that I had not turned to substance abuse by the time I'd reached the hospital for surgery. "I bury my anxiety in fruit Smoothies, chocolate and pleasant music," I told them. "And I pray a lot when I eat and listen. I pray a lot besides that, too."

I was weak after the operation. I needed months of physical therapy, speech therapy, housekeeping assistance and help getting dressed. I compensated for the limitations by playing music, asking for and receiving soothing foot rubs. I learned to dance rhythmically when I performed my muscle-strengthening exercises. I made brain jokes with my therapists. In brief, I drowned my fear in cheerful conduct and giggles. I convinced myself that my future was improving. It did. People flocked to be with me and to increase my happiness.

The secret to my happiness was pretending that I felt cheerful until I did feel happy. Then, happiness poured from my soul, spontaneously. Miracle upon miracle fell onto my body and soul. I made an astounding recovery in physical and mental ways, against great odds for such success.

Several people asked me to write a book about my recovery experience. They found it inspiring. I accepted the challenge. Writing the book became a catharsis. that made me smile as I realized how far I'd come since the day I'd learned my diagnosis.

To be continued after Shabbat, G-d willing

Coping with a medical crisis - part 2

continuation of Yocheved Golani's essay

Shape Your Mind for Survival Mode

Actions, ideas and emotions are very important realities to suffering people if they're physically ill or emotionally out of order. I went through an ordeal that could have broken the bodies and spirits of many people. I understood that I needed to take positive, life-saving actions, to think of positive ideas that strengthened me, and to take positive control of my emotions on many levels.

I needed to respond to every frightening, negative thought with an upbeat, healing thought. Anyone who is seriously ill does, too. My sefer Tehilim (book of Psalms) filled with my tears and my growing appreciation for David HaMelech. He showed me how to beat back negativity and envision a better future with great sensitivity. He knew all about overcoming formidable odds.

The worst thing that could have happened to me back then is that I would have failed to try saving my life. The BEST thing, however, was that if I succeeded I would have a life. One I wanted to live. You or your loved one may be in the same boat.

I needed to develop a plan of action to save my life and/or the quality of my remaining life. You need to do that, too. I failed at times and you might, too. But try again. The characteristic you're building on is called Tenacity. It’s a quality of life issue.

Anyone with a medical crisis is in the same situation: you need to save a life. Yours or the life of someone you love. The quality of that endangered life is just as important as preserving it.

Give Yourself Permission to Weep

One reason I needed to be Tenacious was that some of the worst reactions people had to my news could have crushed my emotions. "You shouldn't cry. GOD only gives people the challenges they can face," they declared with a sense of fatalism and religious superiority over me. I disagree. Many a good person has experienced a psychological or medical problem, and suffered terribly or not survived it. Some medical and emotional challenges destroy no matter how valiantly we fight to survive them. Other crises can be survived. It isn't fair to lump them all in one "You can do it!" category. It's as useless as telling someone in hospice care, dripping blood or holding onto broken limbs in an emergency room that "I FEEL YOUR PAIN." It's no help at all. It blames the patient, who is suffering already. No one on this planet is authorized to pass judgment on another person's trials and tribulations. That's GOD's job.

Strong men and women cry over medical challenges. The Avot and Imahot wept when they recognized danger or felt sad. Crying is a form of prayer. It says, "I'm scared, I'm sad, I'm angry, I don't know what to do about my problem. I need your help GOD," and more. Crying is part of our relationship with Him. And it lets everyone around us know that we feel devastated, in need of their emotional support. We do not need a scolding.

Crying says volumes about a distressed person. They might feel shocked, lost, confused or angry with someone. Anger can also express itself as outrage, frustration, jealousy, resentment, fury, and hatred. It can masquerade as judgment, criticism, and even (surprise!) boredom. Like all emotions, it is a complex, ever-shifting state involving thoughts, feelings, and bodily changes. It's a roller coaster with thrills, spills, and corkscrew turns, none of it predictable or controllable.

to be continued tomorrow, G-d willing