My meanderings

On the hope of inner unity

With only four class meetings left, followed by grading finals, I’m already thinking about clearing out my office.

I know I won’t be teaching Women and Religion again, and Introduction to Judaism has been removed from the schedule. As for Religion and Medicine, I might have the option to teach it in the fall of 2025, but I’m leaning toward transforming the course materials into a text instead. It’s been an intensely content-rich class, starting with Babylonia/Mesopotamia, moving through Hebrews, Christians, and Muslims, and concluding with contemporary topics like mental health and postmodern (biopsychosocial) medicine. I am thinking that I might be fooling myself about this option.

This course has been a labor of love, crafted entirely from scratch. It draws on my years as a hospital administrator, my enduring love of reading, and my graduate studies in the history of intellectual thought. Over the past decade, I’ve built a remarkable library of resources. Now, as I prepare to step away, I find myself sorting through these books, deciding which ones to keep and which to let go. It is more challenging than I recognized before starting this “sorting.”

This whole “switch” of my “dedicated time” remains deeply emotional, no matter how much I try to convince myself otherwise. I’m on an emotional swing—back and forth—trying to reassure myself that this is the best change for me. I tell myself that I can finally focus on writing, but the looming reality of losing a steady income and set schedule is harder to ignore than I want to admit. I need to start looking for a concrete job instead of just peppering Substack with my meanderings. I suppose I need some time to gather the self-discipline required for that shift.

Today, I couldn’t resist—though I know I shouldn’t have—when I checked the enrollment numbers for the Islam class that replaced my Introduction to Judaism. So far, 15 students have signed up, though the class doesn’t start until February. On the other hand, the class titled Religion Goes to Disney has 40 students enrolled and 23 on the waiting list. I’m not sure how to “assess” this academic focus. In full disclosure, I’ll admit I’m a snob; I wouldn’t have spent my time learning or teaching about Disney. However, I do live in California, where there’s a “slight” obsession with Disney, so perhaps this is a skillful way to tap into that fascination. Marketing, baby, marketing. How these students will apply their “knowledge” from the Disney class is another question—but isn’t mine to answer. And why did I even check?

A very special bittersweet moment today: One of my students, who is autistic, has an emotional support dog named Janet. This student is one of my favorites because she is truly one of the most genuine people I know. After class today, Janet gave me a big hug! She came over, stood on her back paws, and wrapped her front paws around me. It was such an awesome moment. Normally, Janet will come to my desk, push her body against my skirt, and let me pet her. She’s such a sweet presence in the classroom; those little moments always brighten my day.

Another bright moment today: The servers told me to keep coming to the faculty cafeteria even if I don’t teach anymore. They said, “Just don’t tell anyone and come. We love to see you here.” Somehow, they were extremely complimentary of me today. They commented on my food selection and my looks. I thought it was funny but also touching.

But this change requires me to change, including in my approach to writing here. Most of my Substack postings don’t reflect my true interests. They seem more like reactions to events—events that upset me. It’s hard to escape the feeling that I’m not original or unique in what I write. But I hope to tap into my true self, and I thank everyone who reads my meager attempts—most of it is what I find important, written by others, with my short “prefaces.” But I am giving myself some time. I know I repeat myself, but I need some time to gather the self-discipline required for that shift.

Today, I returned to reading Hannah Arendt’s interviews, focusing on her reflections on Eichmann. I find myself thinking about the pro-Palestinian protests—the destruction of property and the targeting of individuals. This ahistorical ruthlessness, with no concern for anyone but their ideology of destruction, feels disturbingly reminiscent of Eichmann’s conformity. Perhaps, similarly to the Nazi era, many aren’t driven by personal animosity or criminal intent but instead act as part of a collective, just “going along with the rest.” Do they even know what exactly they are screaming?

What concerns me most is today’s environment, which normalizes destructive behavior. It illuminates a real and troubling dynamic.

I will be writing more about Arendt in my subsequent post. And I will also work on researching her correspondence. My other “project” is to look at the phenomenon of self-hating Jews. I want to extend my project: https://muse.jhu.edu/article/614816/summary.

I am concluding at the moment with Arendt’s words: “I hope I don’t shock you, but I am not at all sure that I’m a liberal.” In my case, I am not at all sure where I stand at the moment. And I am not talking purely political.

Socrates said: “It is better to be in disunity with the whole world than with oneself, since I am a unity.” Those who lack their own unity seek it instead in the external world. I need to own my unity—in my writing as well.

A meandering me.