Sticks-and-Stones and Touch Frustrations

I'd like to thank Heshy Fried for the recent upsurge in attention to my blog. Since he commented on my blog post, Untouched, on his facebook and then blog, I've been enjoying by the thoughts, responses, emails and comments that have followed.

In his blog, he makes the following argument:

Shomer negiah is great if you can be a regular person about it, but when anything leads to such pain it seems like a bad idea.

Which is really interesting to me. Who can "be a regular person about it" when they're Shomer and single for five, ten or fifteen(+) years? I think that person is likely not the normal, average person.

Given the people I've known and spoken to who maintain Shmirat Negiah, it leads to frustration and difficulty in everyone. I've even posted (here and here) about the development and the circumstances that have magnified that struggle and frustration nowadays (and my perspective in dealing with it). In any case, that's the argument to let go of being Shomer Negiah, in a nutshell, and some of the feedback I've gotten has said that perhaps I'm a unique or extreme case and should specifically re-examine and re-evaluate my choice (and I really appreciate how much everyone cares and wants to help me out, it's great to see people so passionate about each others' well being!). It can be a powerful argument, because the frustration or pain can similarly feel powerful.

It reminds me of an old adage, and the way we've responded to it:

Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me. 

Of course my Mother, and every other mother I've ever spoken to, adamantly objects to the phrase, touting how the exact opposite is true; our physical wounds will heal, but our emotional ones will stay with us much longer. So we've become very sensitive and aware of emotional pains as a society by recognizing the powerful influence of emotions on our psychological (and physical) health in the long-term. Awareness about bullying is at an all-time high. Such emotional pain is to be avoided and prevented if at all possible. Which is great and everything, but disappointment, upset and emotional pain is inevitable in life. Trying to prevent all of it -which essentially is the point in using distraction as the primary way to deal with a child when they cry or get upset about not getting a lollypop or whatever -espouses certain values. Namely, that emotional pain is really bad, that we can't handle it and therefore any degree of emotional hurt should be avoided at all costs. 

 (It's the same argument that leads to using the [Ultra] Orthodox Shidduch system, having lots of research and going through an intermediary to avoid -as much as possible -the possibility of hurting someone or being hurt and the challenges of being Shomer Negiah, etc. Especially since the pain of breaking up -and temptation to touch -is so much harder to deal with after a two year relationship versus just a few dates.)

While I think it's incredibly important to help prevent bullying, I also value teaching our children and learning ourselves about handling the disappointments and challenges in life. Developing the coping skills and tools to manage the tough times, frustrations and setbacks we experience -even the chronic ones that won't just go away -is a an integral element of becoming an adult and learning to handle life well.

Thus far, my perspective is that the feelings don't have to be avoided but managed; interestingly enough that doesn't mean we have to do or say anything special, but acknowledge them, express and show our acceptance/care. Being able to feel and tolerate strong emotions isn't a bad thing; in fact, I think it's a highly adaptive skill to have in life. My experience with being Shomer has been that kind of learning experience; or rather, that's what I'm choosing to make of it. Still, I acknowledge that being Shomer is not only tough, but an issue that won't go away (even in marriage) and will be frustratingly painful, sometimes to the point of extremity. I just don't think that the pain would always justifiy tossing away my choice for observance.

I will say, though, if it's a choice between marrying someone immediately just for the touch, affection and sex versus keeping Shomer, I'd be more likely to stop being Shomer. Religious observance is not a good proxy for healthy relationships. But I do think there's a third option, and that's my current road; struggling, working through it and learning to manage. I think there's a plus buried in there, the meaning I make of it and the choice to develop myself through it.

That option, I think, takes strength to stick to. But I also think lots of people are strong enough, and we get stronger as we learn to understand, accept and cope with those feelings. 

Who knows, maybe I'm doing mental back-flips to make light of a crummy situation that I'm choosing to stick to. Or perhaps there's something real to gain and grow through the challenge. Maybe one day I'll get fed up enough to change my mind about being Shomer. Anything is possible... But until then, if it ever happens, I'll be working through it.

What To Do, What To Do... (Part 2)

I left off previously by presenting and sarcastically mocking the plan for life development and marriage stages that seems both an ideal and simply inapplicable nowadays... 

So then, what was the idea behind "Shmoneh Estreh L'chupah"? How did it work way back when? What does it mean today?

The most common answer I find is the cultural one. It states that back in their day and age education ended at the age of twelve or so, and while children began to learn a trade be beginning an apprenticeship at that age, they also continued learning Judaic texts. By the age of seventeen the man had learned a trade, probably acquired some sort of dwelling and/or shop and thus (as per the Rambam) was ready to seek a marriage partner. Nowadays, we just can't do that because of the culture and our maturity level.

While that's all nice and dandy, there's one piece that is abundantly clear to me, but I see is missing in the explanation.

But before I get started on that... Seriously, Chazal didn't recognize that the world changes? Do we give "the cultural answer" for other Halachot, saying they're outdated? I mean, really?!?! I give Chazal more credit than to simply state that in this day and age it's impractical.

The age guidelines didn't just account for maturity in terms of intellect, emotions and adulthood. It accounted very strongly for sexual maturity. Thus the harsh language in the Talmud and the developmental timelines indicate something very clear to me -that we have a very real and very important desire to consider as well.

Think about it -marriage comes last in the stages of life development laid out. So then why put a number on it? Why set these limits with harsh language, making reference to violating the commandments, living in sin, exploding/rotting bones?

There is a recognition that marriage is important, and perhaps that there are reasonable limits to how long humans can handle not being married -and for the purposes of this post, I'm considering the aspects of touch, desire and procreation within marriage (though there's a whole lot more to talk about). There are consequences and repercussions for not having those desires, including physical intimacy and marriage established by a certain age. Serious enough to merit very abrasive language.

Clearly the sources map out an ideal situation which now clashes with our reality. The Rav writes that Halachah is an ideal world, which our reality does not conform to. At its best, Halachah tells us how to respond to the world we live in. I think this conundrum presents a frustratingly clear example of that stark contrast. Which leads to the core question how do we respond to the realities, given Halachic imperatives?


Compounding the question is the recognition of how jarring the reality is. The fields of medicine/biology, psychology and law all recognize that there are serious limits and consequences in attempting to squelch or delay physical intimacy beyond the late teens (~18). Concerns for having children before being able to support them (both in the secular world and within the sources quoted above) convolute the issue as well.

In that sense, so many of us are stuck in "no man's land" while every available source indicates we're not in the ideal situation.  And that's putting it mildly. Trying so hard to consolidate what everyone knows and agrees on without knowing when -or even if -there will be a reprieve. Trying to uphold the values while enduring the struggle and frustration, often without even having a place to voice our pain, a forum to discuss the consequences and/or a way to negotiate how we can best handle where we are in life.

It is, by so many accounts, the challenge and test of our time. (Just as a quick note, there are some communities that take these Halachot as a guide and marry at a younger age, perhaps because of these concerns.) 

Western society chose to address the individual's concerns, pain and well being based on the available information, eschewing all other concerns for their fundamental precept: preserving an individual's right to pursue their happiness as they see fit. Halachah and the Orthodox community places the values of family, marriage and preserving the family unit above all else by creating safeguards for upholding the sanctity of marriage -literally Taharat Hamishpachah -through laws built to create and maintain a unique, reserved and holy connection forged through physical intimacy exclusively within the context of marriage.

A large part of me sees significant agreement among Jewish sources and the fields of science and law regarding our human needs and limits. The fact that circumstances have changed so that when we do reach and pass the red-line we cannot follow the guidelines, warnings and advice of all these source means that we're the ones left alone to deal with it.

As for my own thoughts and conclusions, I see and experience the pain and I admire the values on both sides. I recognize that my struggle and the challenge(s) I experience puts me in a place of partial blindness. I cannot always see clearly through the pain to the Halachic values that I hold dear. But I am resolved and decide every day that I am determined to maintain those values.

Trying to walk a Halachic path in life blinded by pain with my hands tied behind my back means that I may very well stumble, fall and get hurt. I may perhaps even take a step off the road. But those are not intentional steps off the path, nor do I say to myself it is okay to walk away. My resolve and determination are the hardest but most important virtues to uphold -they are the compass that keep me pointed in the right direction.

What To Do, What To Do... (Part 1)

Over here I discussed my experience with Shmirat Negiyah. The comments were split into two basic themes: appreciation of the feelings expressed and words on what to do about it. While I'd hoped to garner more discussion on the feelings, I noticed that the larger and more passionate responses addressed the actions that should or should not be taken.

So here's the place to begin.  A place to open up that discussion.

Several (okay, so maybe it's more than several) years back, I ran into a very interesting conundrum. For a single male reaching the age of twenty, there is a very notable source that seems to create a conflict. Learning about this source lead to a larger inquiry within Jewish sources for the prerogative to get married, the (ideal) age to do so and the life-development stages to consider. I'm laying out what I can scrounge and remember from that process, and I know there is much more (and a whole lot of discussion to be had). Then I'll tell you about my own thoughts, considerations and perhaps even a conclusion or two.

Let's start with the life development concerns. The Mishna in Pirkei Avot (5:21) states: "At five years old a person should study Mikra, at ten years the Mishnah and at fifteen the Talmud." Shortly thereafter (5:25) they give guildelines for when to get married: "Shmoneh Estreh L'chupah."

The Talmud (Sotah 44a) teaches that the proper sequence of a persons life should consist of: (a) acquiring a house, (b) learning a trade and (c) marrying. Interestingly, the Rambam (Hilchot Dei'ot 5:11) flips the first two, noting that learning a trade precedes acquiring a house. Commentators struggle with the issue, but ultimately everyone concludes that marriage should come last and that is the most important value to extract from these sources. The rest is just logistics and practicality concerns. 

Okay, so we have a sequence of learning and a sequence of building a life and family. Now the troublesome part. There are many different opinions for the proper ages, but here are two more I picked up along my inquiry:

The Talmud (Kiddushin 29b) brings down the following:

Rav Huna says: one who reaches the age of twenty and has not married, he lives all his days in sin. Rava said, until twenty years the Almighty sits in anticipation waiting for a person to marry. Once he reaches twenty and has not married, He says: "May his bones rot!" (Alternatively translated: "May his bones blow up!")

The Rambam states it similarly, but focuses on the commandment violations (Hilchot Ishut, 15:2):

When is a man obligated in this Mitzvah? From the age of seventeen. Once he reaches twenty years and has not married a woman, he has transgressed and neglected a positive commandment.

Oh yes, let's give people a mere three years to find a bashert! Oh, and by the way, you have -at best -about 2 years to seriously learn Gemara before being responsible to pursue marriage. Lastly, let's make sure you know that Hashem is waiting for you to find your bashert before the age of twenty. Also, you should have a house and a job before then. So a guy needs to be educated thoroughly in Judaic texts, learn a trade and buy a house by around the age of seventeen. Then he needs to be married by twenty.

No pressure. 

The continuation -which will be posted tomorrow -will push the envelope further and explore the clash between the outline presented here and the reality we have to deal with.

Untouched

Disclaimer: I want to make it abundantly clear that the following words are not a declaration of what I do, how I will act or my plans vis-a-vis Halachah. It's not about how I feel about Halachah, or Hashem, or my dedication. What follows is purely an expression of longing, of feeling, and of pain.

As a short intro, I'm going to give a bit about my story of deciding to maintain shmirat negiyah. It started when I was a teenager in high school. Becoming super-religious was my version of rebellion. That way, I could look at my parents with righteous indignation and express my frustrations while feeling justified in doing so. I have since outgrown my teenage rage, but there are vestiges of it that I think I still hold onto (or perhaps, that are still stuck to me). I stopped touching my aunts and cousins; all Halachic technicality aside, it's a really tough experience in a Sefardi family. I practically withdrew from everyone -especially females -when it comes to affection. I even stopped hugging my Mother and Sister for some time. It took me a while to get over it, and in some ways I still think I am.

Of all this, the most important thing to note (or rather, the part that I'm focusing on here) is my own withdrawal. Almost like starving myself, pulling away. Even though I've come out of that shell in many ways, part of me resents my early choice and experience of shmirat negiyah. I made it an excuse, (perhaps unintentionally or unconsciously) using it as a tool to push others away. Just to be completely clear, it's not the Halachah that I'm upset over, it's myself.

Because now, I crave touch. I need to be touched. I'm deprived of it, living far from my family, far from those who were so affectionate when I grew up before I pushed them away. It's still taking time to even let them in. Don't get me wrong, I was always a particularly touchy-feely guy and I believe I would still have that strong need, desire and feeling a lack in physical affection.

Most of time, I skate by. Mostly on numbness, because it's the only way not to tear myself apart from the inside. But I can't -and I don't want to -shut out how I'm feeling. Those are the times when I lament being away from family that I can hug just because I want or need one. When I feel frustrated that I'm a guy, and so it's not really acceptable to cuddle, or get a massage, or generally to have lots of affectionate touch, even hugging. More isolation.

Beyond that, I want to be touched by a woman, and one that I'm attracted to, care about and will love. All these things are cumulative. I can't parse them out, but they compound on each other exponentially. Suffice it to say, it's complicated.

For me, right now, it hurts. It's painful, and it's lonely. I can be with friends or on a date, but I'm isolated this way. By an invisible wall, a barrier, a force-field built by Halachah (and culture/society and some of my own ridiculousness) that separates me from the touch I need. And I know I need it like I need food, water and air.

At this very moment, I'm starving, dehydrating and suffocating. I'm experiencing years of withdrawal and deprivation. In my lucid moments of awareness, away from the numbness that has become a stoic refuge from a reality I can hardly face, I have indescribable agony and all I wish is to be tenderly touched, to be shown care and affection and to feel that physical presence, because fundamentally it's how I experience and connect with the world around me. That is how I'm built to feel, and so it represents a gateway to my emotions and my heart.

It's a moment like this that brings the realization of how much it means to tie my hands and hold back the touch I want and need to give too; these are all my expressions of care and affection, building-blocks for connections and a shared understanding of one another through the touch-experience.

Men 101: Impulses

This post by Yedid Nefesh got me thinking about the male sexual impulse. While I've been thinking about addressing male sexuality, that's a whole other topic. However, in reference to the male impulse for sexual contact and sexual release, I have a metaphor.

Imagine having to fast for a day. Many of you may not have to imagine, and know some of the challenges that come with it and those feelings of weakness, headaches, stomach aches, hunger, thirst, inability to focus, exhaustion... that tell us our body is in need of nourishment and drink. In a sense, it is a kind of withdrawal, all those powerful physiological alarms that tell us that our body requires care.

For some, fasting for a day isn't terrible. Imagine having to fast for two consecutive days, or three, without any opportunity to eat or drink. What about fasting for a full week? A month? A year?

A person would die long before then.

The male sexual impulse is often compared to hunger or thirst. It's a need that does not simply go away after being filled once, or once in a while. The body sends out powerful physiological reminders and alarms reminding us that we need care.

And yet, we are told not to until marriage. So, from the age of about 13 until our 20's at the very least, we're starved. Can you imagine living for seven years without food? Without water? If we were forced or kept alive, but had to live with that kind of starvation... it is a form of torture.

For many observant men, it gets worse. We are told we cannot touch. And, in many ways, we can't look. But it's there. Women are on the street, in stores, on the roads. Beautiful and tempting... and we are hungering. All the time. All. The. Time.

(From this perspective, I can understand the extreme divisions. I don't agree with them, for a great many reasons, and I don't find this reason sufficient to justify the extreme measures and lengths, but that's just my own little mind.)

To try and understand what it takes for a man not to act on that impulse, that hunger, that torture, is to understand how every moment -from moment to moment -that he does not give in he is producing miracles, engaging in the most exalted acts of heroism and moving mountains in restraining himself.

Put him in a relationship or dating a woman, and you've multiplied his difficulty exponentially, especially when the couple find each another attractive. 

Maybe I'm just too much a disciple of Rav Levy Yitzchack of Bardichev, but for every moment that a man restrains himself -especially under this kind of pressure -he builds tremendous merit for himself. It is a test that is passed for each and every second of restraint. I don't count the number of times it's broken, but the number of seconds it's maintained, and the dedication to maintaining that restraint.

It's a perspective I think can only be gained by understanding the forces at work. Understanding it without having to experience it is perhaps, shall I say, difficult.