Eggs-istentially Speaking

“Do you find your Judaism is influenced by existentialism?”

My mind was racing to remember the definition of existentialism. I had a vague idea, so I blurted out: “Probably. I’ve always had grand ideas about life, death, God, and human existence.”

. . .

This is an excerpt of just one of many interesting conversations I’ve had in the last two weeks since my video went live. I was speaking with Dr. Lawrence Nelson, Principle Investigator on premature ovarian insufficiency with the National Institutes of Health. For a brief update on where this is going: he’d like to bring me on board with his POI Recovery Team, a group of endocrinologists, pyschologists, nutritionists, and spirtual advisors for women who are coping with POI. My video intrigued him, and we got into a very deep conversation about how I’ve managed to not only cope so well with my diagnosis, but in such a short time compared to other women with the diagnosis. He brought up this idea of existentialism, so I decided to refresh my memory on the subject.

The simplest definition I found was on a Jack London glossary page. Existentialism is “the belief that one shapes one’s basic nature through the direction of life one chooses to live.” Our suffering is a result of not being able to create meaning in our lives. The wikipedia article on existentialism provides a good summary as well, going into concepts such as Despair, Angst, Freedom, and Authenticity, all results of our struggle to define and create meaning.

You know, I’ve never thought of it this way so concretely, but I suppose I am an existentialist Jew. And in a lot of ways, the two complement each other. Judaism is so focused on the marking of time, of creating significance through life cycle events and daily ritual. As Jews, we are taught to craft meaning and our relationship to G-d through these ritual acts. How is that not existential?

. . .

But back to my witty post title.

I’ve been thinking about existentialism in the context of my infertility. I’m redefining myself, mother, family, etc. I’m crafting new meaning in my life. I’m carving out a path for myself, and while I’m not entirely sure where it’s going, I’m confident in the value and fulfillment it will bring.

There are lots of times that I step back and look at my life from a distance, seeing from where I’ve come and at where I am now. I’m only 2 years away from turning 30, but there are moments when I feel like I’ve blinked and suddenly I’m about to turn 28, and other moments, like all of 2009, that felt like an eternity. This weekend was both my sister’s baby shower and Mother’s Day- talk about timing! (Also- both were amazing. The closeness I feel for my mom, my sister, my mom-in-law… it’s overwhelming, as is their love and support for Larry and me.) And it was another one of those moments of reflection, of crafting meaning. And today, when I read about the heartbreaking passing of a member of the ALI community- Vee’s husband Alex (link goes to a beautiful tribute by Gil, a good friend of their’s)- and thinking of my own paranoid terror surrounding death… well, it makes you think. It makes you think that life is effing short, and you’ve got to make the most of it, right? Carpe diem and all that?

I realized it’s about crafting that meaning and fulfillment. I’ve been saying that the Universe has been talking to me, and it’s time I listen. I’ve decided I’m fully in a job search now for something in the health advocacy sector, and that it’s time to leave higher ed. With virtually no direct experience but highly transferrable skills, this is not going to be easy. I’ve realized this is what I’m meant to do, and I’m only meant to do it because I made that meaning. Not the Universe or G-d. Just me. I think those Outside Influences helped guide me to my conclusion rather than handing me the answer.

I am reminded of another part of my conversation with Dr. Nelson last week. We were talking about Rachel, who in the Bible, was Jacob’s most beloved wife and yet she could bear no children. She wept and prayed and fought with her sister and handmaids vying for favor in Jacobs eyes as they each bore him many children. Finally, her prayers were answered and she conceived and bore Joseph and then later Benjamin, Jacob’s youngest son. But her prayer came at a price, and she died in childbirth with Benjamin. Infertility and maternal mortality, the two ends, two extremes of the spectrum, bookends, as Dr. Nelson put it, on the experience of human reproduction. The reminder that for beginnings there are endings. In life: death.

And all the rest in between is what we make of it.

A heavy post indeed this week, but I wanted to wrap my brain around some of these bigger thoughts brewing in my head for the last week.