From Doing to Being, with Awe

“Close your eyes and take a slow deep breath,” I say.

It is a dark, cold winter morning in Toronto. I am a geriatrician sitting with a group of 70- and 80-year-olds, attempting to talk about spirituality.

“Bring to mind an experience in your life when you felt awe.”

We pause. We let this memory really sink it. Over the next 30 minutes the group shares their experiences: a breath-taking sunset; a grandchild saying “Nana”; an unexpected kindness. These experiences, we come to understand, connect the individual to people, places and time beyond their comprehension, and inspire them with an energy that perhaps can only be explained as love.

“This is what I’m talking about when I talk about spirituality.”

This part of ourselves has been neglected. We have been so busy doing, that we’ve forgotten that at our core we are human beings. Beings, not doings. And for my geriatric patients, as their societal roles doing- working, raising children, running organizations- have waned, and for some, doing has become more difficult, they are left wondering, what am I here for anyway?

This question came before me in technicolor with the expansion of medically-assisted death in Canada. The legislation allows for medically-assisted death for individuals with a grievous and irremediable medical condition who are enduring intolerable suffering. Data collected since this legislation was approved shows that the source of this intolerable suffering is very often the loss of functional independence and fear of becoming a burden.¹ As a physician, I take my duty to address suffering very seriously whatever the source, physical or psychological. My critique here is not to minimize the suffering of others. However, I have begun to wonder, how did our society come to a place where so many find the prospect of requiring help so intolerable that it leads them to pursue ending their life early? How did we get to a place where being unable to do means perhaps there is no longer a reason to be?

I want to suggest that we got here by an extreme over-emphasis on the pragmatic, outcome-oriented, accomplishment-driven side of humankind. This side of humankind is described in Joseph Soloveitchik’s famous philosophical work, The Lonely Man of Faith,² in the archetype of Adam the First: in fulfilling his God-given mandate to subdue nature, Adam the First utilizes the “functional and practical aspects of his intellect through which man is able to gain control of nature… His motto is success, triumph over the cosmic forces,” and this leads to the progressively increasing dignity of humankind. 

Adam the Second, however, is stirred by a different impulse. “He encounters the universe in all its colorfulness, splendor, and grandeur, and studies it with the naivete, awe, and admiration of the child who seeks the unusual and wonderful in every ordinary thing and event… He looks for the image of God not in the mathematical formula or the natural relational law but in every beam of light, in every bud and blossom, in the morning breeze and the stillness of a starlit evening.” (p. 21-22)

The last century has shown unprecedented technological advance. Humankind, through its mastery of science and nature, has become more dignified and majestic than ever before. As Soloveitchik writes, “Man of old who could not fight disease and succumbed in multitudes to yellow fever or any other plague with degrading helplessness could not lay claim to dignity.  Only the man who builds hospitals, discovers therapeutic techniques, and saves lives is blessed with dignity.”(p. 16) Our absolute focus on this one aspect of humankind, however, has come at a cost. In our pursuit of mastery, we have neglected awe. We’ve forgotten how to appreciate a beam of light, and all the more drastic, to appreciate the intrinsic splendor and grandeur in every human being created in the very image of the Divine. The time to embrace this other side of humankind is now.

If we were too distracted in our youth and too busy in middle age, now that more than one quarter of the North American Jewish community has reached old age, now is the perfect time to remind ourselves of the questions that stir in Adam the Second. As Soloveitchik writes, Adam the Second wants to know “”Why is it?” “What is it?” “Who is it?”” (p. 20).

One brilliant resource bringing us back to this neglected part of ourselves is the book, “Wise Aging” written by the late Rabbi Rachel Cowan and Linda Thal.³ In this book, they gathered Torah on Aging.  This book covers fundamental ideas necessary for aging such as the centrality of gratitude to living a meaningful life, and the truth of interdependence which allows us to both give and receive with generosity.

Over the past year as I’ve led several Wise Aging counseling groups, I’ve seen firsthand the transformative impact these counter-cultural ideas can have on individuals’ self-perception. My patient-students have begun to appreciate their value beyond what they can do. They’ve begun to turn to their aging bodies with appreciation for what their bodies have carried them through, de-emphasizing the wrinkles, sunspots, creaks and aches. And they’ve begun turning to each-other, creating new communities open to exploring the opportunities rich at this later stage of life.

And these groups have had a major impact on me. Fifteen years into my medical career I decided to become rabbi so that I might be able to support the physical, psychological and spiritual needs of our aging community. I am now a year-and-a-half into my rabbinical studies with the Shalom Hartman Institute. Diving into the sea of Torah reassures me that though the needs of the aging Jewish community are great, our tradition is rich and ready to meet those needs.

I start every Wise Aging class by singing together Modeh Ani, the classic Jewish gratitude prayer thanking God for waking to another day. What began as a tool to help us settle into the room and into the moment has become a prayer in the most precious, honest sense. How grateful I am for the gift of another day, for the Torah and the opportunity to share its wisdom, and to help others notice the majesty of living yet another day. As I sing Modeh Ani, I truly feel a deep sense of awe.

References:

1. Fifth Annual Report on Medical Assistance in Dying in Canada 2023 , published Dec. 2024) https://www.canada.ca/content/dam/hc-sc/documents/services/publications/health-system-services/annual-report-medical-assistance-dying-2023/annual-report-medical-assistance-dying-2023.pdf

2. Soloveitchik, J. B. (1965). The lonely man of faith. Tradition, 7(2), 5–67. (Note page numbers provided for the 2005 book edition published by Doubleday.)

3. Cowan, R and Thal L. (2015). Wise Aging: Living with Joy, Resilience, and Spirit. Berman House.