Have You Been There?

I had planned to make a quick stop at Duane Reade before taking the subway back to Brooklyn after my weekly (read: daily) shopping spree in the city. This was back in the day, before Duane Reade became Walgreens, and when there was still a branch on every block of the Manhattan grid.

On this specific night, however, I was having a surprisingly difficult time locating the store, which, according to my calculations, should have been precisely where I was standing. After navigating through the maze of my favorite city streets, it became clear that I needed some help. A well-dressed elderly couple who appeared to be tourists on their way to dinner confidently directed me back to the area I had scanned only moments before, and I thanked them politely before we parted ways. After circling the block a second time with no luck, an eager pedestrian (who was noticeably new to the city) guided me in a different direction altogether. It was both amusing and frustrating, and my leather jacket was hardly warm enough for the biting cold of February. This back-and-forth continued for a while longer before I understood why I was dizzy (NYC doesn’t spin after 10 p.m.), and nobody in the vicinity had ever been to the location in question. By the time I found the store, just a block away from where I had started, it was closed.

After that experience, I took it upon myself not to provide directions if it required taking a wild guess or if I hadn’t been to the location myself. While it may seem insignificant when looking for a drugstore, there are countless situations in life in which we seek guidance, sometimes in all the wrong places. People are quick to give advice and share their opinions about everything under the sun, despite the fact that they often have little to no experience with the matter at hand.

Perhaps, before accepting input, we ought to ask: Have you been there?

When Silence Is Golden

Some time ago, there was a devastating incident in the news involving a young child who passed away after being forgotten in a hot car. While this heartbreaking accident happens far too often, in this specific case, the father received harsh pushback about his lack of responsibility and for not protecting his child. Social media was flooded with hundreds of self-righteous comments from those who felt the need to discipline the anguished father. There were reprimands from random strangers who smugly explained the role of a parent and the responsibility it entails, while others outlined the needs of a child—as if a man who has been parenting for almost a decade needs to be reminded. Why is a grieving father being schooled by a crowd of unrelated onlookers? How is it possible that the reactions to this most painful experience are so full of judgment in place of compassion?

Because I don’t want to believe that humanity can be so heartless, I will take the liberty to guess that it’s only possible because the majority of these careless bystanders are not parents themselves. They must not know the feeling of anxiously waiting long weeks and months for the miracle of new life. They haven’t experienced the sleeplessness of caring for a newborn or the fierce protective love and responsibility that a healthy parent naturally feels.

Perhaps we must ask these opinionated commenters: Have you been there?

The Wisdom of Experience

When seeking or accepting guidance in life, it is crucial that we do so from those who have been there before us. Likewise, when sharing our thoughts or providing feedback to another, we must ask ourselves if we are truly in a position to weigh in with the necessary awareness and sensitivity.

In the world of addiction, addicts and co-addicts are encouraged to attend a 12-step program and to choose a sober member of the group to act as a sponsor or mentor. While this may seem counterintuitive, a sponsor is uniquely equipped to lead the way because he has walked the path and thus possesses the wisdom and experience to effectively guide another who is on that same journey.

If we are struggling with faith, we will find reassurance when we accept counsel from those who have wrestled with the same questions and ultimately deepened their spiritual connection. When parenting feels overwhelming, we are wise to reach out to those who have successfully raised their children with courage and confidence. If we are drowning in grief, we will find comfort and validation from those who know the deep pain of loss.

The Torah as Our Blueprint

And when the path still appears unclear, as it sometimes will, there are countless precedents in our history that can light the way. The Torah serves as a roadmap for us when we wander off course and provides us with role models who have experienced the difficulties that we face today. In the words of Shlomo Hamelech (Kohelet 1:9), we are told: “That which was is that which will be, and that which was done is that which will be done; there is nothing new under the sun.”

When distracted by temptation, perhaps we can draw upon Yosef (Joseph) HaTzadik’s fortitude and strength of character in Potiphar’s home. If faced with heart-wrenching obstacles like the aching pain of infertility, what can we learn from the prophetess Chana about heartfelt prayer and communion with God? When words fail us in our darkest moments, David HaMelech’s heartfelt pleas and praise in the verses of Tehillim serve as a powerful legacy that gives voice to all that we bear.

It’s common to veer off course once in a while, but when we do, we must recognize that the path has been paved for us. Though we may panic and feel compelled to ask for guidance from whomever we encounter, the uninformed opinions of those around us may result in a detour that makes it difficult to get back on track. We only need to tune out the background noise, seek out those who have walked the path before us, or simply retrace our steps to return to center, and our destination will come into view.

Admittedly, New York City will always be my favorite place to get lost. And the next time I do, please allow me to quiz you before I take your directions.