Bidud. Bedidut. Hitbodedut.
These three Hebrew words overlap as they are all rooted in the same three Hebrew letters bet, daled, daled; equivalent in English to B.D.D.
Bidud — quarantine or isolation.
Bedidut — loneliness.
Hitbodedut — contemplative solitude.
As I read about Israel’s quarantine-bidud, policy, the words bedidut and hitbodedut have been associatively swirling in my mind.
Normally, when you think of an isolated person or a person in isolation, what comes to mind is perhaps someone who is limited, physically, or maybe socially marginalized, or struggling with depression or perhaps a different form of mental illness, or maybe someone who might simply be self-absorbed.
Isolation is not normally an elective choice for a healthy person to put oneself in.
Yesterday was a different kind of Purim, especially in Israel. But it was felt here in New York too. While one of Purim’s central motifs is community, as is evidenced by the text of the Megillah as well as the mitzvot of the day — bringing and sharing gifts to friends, being generous with people who have fallen on hard economic times, and breaking bread at banquets — this past Purim saw separations and isolations of people who were in formal quarantine, cut off from community. An exact inverse situation to what the Purim holiday calls for and represents.
Yet, when you think about it, these imposed Purim isolations, in a sense, still represent community. For none of the negative reasons above is what propelled the decision to isolate. To the contrary. The purpose of the quarantines extends to keeping everyone safe. It extends to community. In fact, that is one of the key ideas behind isolation. Other than protecting the person in isolation, its primary purpose is to look out for strangers, to try to prevent the spread of the illness to other people likely anonymous to you.
Nonetheless, when I read this word: bidud, this isolation and quarantine, I also see the word: bedidut, loneliness. The bedidut within the bidud. The loneliness of quarantine.
So many people are already isolated or forgotten, their lives fraught with loneliness. Now this bidud is officially mandated and institutionalized in order to prevent the spread of the coronavirus.
What are ways to penetrate this barrier and reach people in this hybrid of bidud-quarantine bedidut-loneliness? Elderly people already forgotten in a nursing home? Homebound people who are ill and socially cut off? Or anyone else who does not fit into conventional society’s social boxes?
These cautionary measures are all in place in order to prevent the spread and G-d forbid the mortality that coronavirus potentially poses. But make no mistake, in its own way, bedidut, chronic emotional loneliness and isolation, can be a killer too.
The bidud–bedidut has always been there. Now we are simply more aware of it as it has become exposed as the norm of the day as well as stripped of its social stigma (to an extent).
In contrast to bidud and bedidut, Hitbodedut, contemplative solitude, has traditionally been a voluntary spiritual practice. Like going on that solo hike or meditating in the forest or at home, in order to reach our deepest quietest and yet most audible internal core. That’s hitbodedut.
A leading pedagogue in Israel, Rabbi Dov Singer, who was on a recent visit in the US to promote the release of his new book, Prepare My Prayer, was diagnosed with coronavirus upon his return to Israel.
In his book about prayer Rabbi Dov talks about hitbodedut, specifically as cultivated by Rabbi Nahman of Breslov. Hitbodedut is a hallmark of the Musar tradition, as well as the legacy of Rabbi Nahman.
Various texts about hitbodedut from the newly released “Prepare My Prayer” can resonate as an opportunity to integrate this practice into the imposed bidud, isolation or quarantine, that so many have found themselves in and so many of us might find ourselves in. Because hitbodedut, a form of mediation, might be one of the coping mechanisms or, I dare I say, one of the opportunities in the repertoire of reactions to what looks like will be increasing quarantines. Even if briefly, for a few precious minutes, hitbodedut might be helpful.
Being in isolation is not easy. It’s not a reflex reaction to embrace a spiritual practice from the chaos or cabin fever of going stir crazy in alone-ness.
Many distractions can be helpful, though, such as speaking with friends by phone, finding creative ways to interact with friends (I will be watching a movie together with a friend in isolation tomorrow so we can still be a joint peanut gallery to the unfolding story and have a shared experience).
Of course, there’s always that never ending list of books to read we all keep. But with the advent of modern technology, it’s amazing how we can all still share in the connectivity and burden with those who are quarantined.
While technology can never replace the power of face to face human presence and connectivity, for this hopefully temporary situation it’s a blessing.
Doubtless, there will still be some tough mental moments to battle.
But yedidut, the Hebrew word for friendship, has a similar linguistic lilt to the Hebrew root letters of B.D.D., with the repetitive double Hebrew letter daled, D.D. This is the best antidote to bedidut — yedidut. Maybe, ironically, more of that, caring and friendship between people will somehow emerge from this whole quarantine-bidud bedidut hitbodedut trifecta.
And maybe in that sense, those intrinsic messages of the Purim holiday will shine on in spite of this year’s Purim in isolation for many.
Copyright © 2020 by the Intermountain Jewish News
