"Know When to Walk Away"-My Last Jewish Week Singles Column

Well, it's done. I've submitted my last Jewish Week singles column, and it's available online now.

I wrote the thing weeks ago, but then found myself in Tmol Shilshom, a Jerusalem restaurant where the theme is books. Surrounded by the works of famous Hebrew and English authors, I finished the final column. I usually don't reprint the entire thing on my blog, but it will be the last time, so I wanted to share.

Thanks to everyone for their support for the column over the last four and a half years, as well as your commitment to this ongoing conversation.

"Know When to Walk Away"
by Esther D. Kustanowitz

How does one become a Jewish singles columnist, anyway? On recent reflection, it has occurred to me that perhaps I’ve only found myself here, an untrained sociologist Jane Goodall-ing it in the singles jungle, because of the metaphorical significance and transformative power of transit.

Several years ago, during a work trip to Israel, I had been picked up at the airport by a taxi and was traveling to Jerusalem when the driver began making Hebrew conversation. It started innocently, with a “welcome to Israel” and “what are you doing here?” and ended in a question I didn’t quite understand. “At revakah?” he asked. “Revakah?” I asked. “Revakah zeh lo nesuah (‘revakah’ means ‘not married’).”

I had never heard the word before. Most of my Hebrew was biblical, and most unmarried biblical women were referred to as betulah, which most English Bibles translate as “virgin.” Where, linguistically, could “revakah” have come from? I tried to “shoresh it out,” parsing the word and looking for a root. Since it was unlikely that the resh-vav-kuf could be read as “rock,” the best logical word origin I could find was the word reyk, meaning empty. If Genesis was right and it was “not good for a person to be alone,” then was it a huge leap to identify a person who hadn’t found their soul mate as, to an extent, empty? The Hebrew language seemed to think not. In that moment, an idea began its path of transit.

More recently, I was on a bus, spiraling down the West Coast. The sea was out of sight, and clouds sagged low over the mountains, which rolled past the windows as if they were on a conveyor belt, and I was the one who was standing still. I knew it was an illusion; the bus moved, and the scenery passed, but instead of feeling like an active participant in our progress, I felt detached and stagnant. Noticing the vast expanse of Northern California land, I felt the solitude descend, a curtain closing on a dramatic chapter.
At the end of that trip down the coast, I found myself thinking about journeys, the constant wandering of being in transit, and — because I was headed to Las Vegas — the song lyric that urged me to “know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em.” I knew I wasn’t quite at “know when to run,” but “know when to walk away” began to resonate strongly. I don’t like leaving my destiny to chance — heading off into the great unknown has never been an area of comfort for me. But it became clear that any more hands of solitaire or broken gambling metaphors, and I would risk the erosion of the parts of me that I’m most proud of, precisely the ones I’d hoped to one day share with a family.

My four years writing this column seem commensurate to an academic degree in relationships, yet somehow I’m ABD, and without the coveted “M.R.S.” degree. Perhaps I need to concentrate on field work, move beyond the theoretical into the actual. This column has been the longest relationship of my life. But I can’t marry a column. The transition will be one of the hardest things I’ve had to do, but I think that it’s time.

I don’t know what is or isn’t in the cards for me. If God is calling the shots, I’d like to believe that the Deity wants me to be happier than I am, if only selfishly, for the strengthening of my faith weakened by staying single. I’d still like to be able to contribute to the expansion of the nuclear family I’m already so blessed to have. Or perhaps I’m committing hubris — an English major’s favorite sin — by thinking that I’m on God’s agenda at all. I’m aware that my life has been a series of unique opportunities that have been both humbling and a blessing. It may make me selfish, but I’d still hoped to have more.

There has to be more than just the illusion of progress. It’s a gamble, but every change is. It’s time to put one foot in front of the other, fix my eyes on the future, and walk away from what’s comfortable, into what might, one day, be possible. I’m in transit again. Let the chips fall where they may. And next time an Israeli taxi driver asks me to define my status, whatever it is, I intend to celebrate it.

Esther D. Kustanowitz thanks her editors, readers, family and friends for their support of this column and her obsession with Hebrew. In her “retirement,” she will be working on her book about living Jewish and single, and will continue to blog at MyUrbanKvetch.com and JDatersAnonymous.com, among other places. You can always reach her at jdatersanonymous@gmail.com.

Comments

[Coquita]

Good luck on your new path, Urban Kvetch. I hope it brings you to new and exciting places! Have faith and it will come.

[Julia Gliner]

GASP! But how will people recognize you at my parties now??

[Marnie]

Lovely parting words. May bigger, better, and ever-more-rewarding things await!

[VJ]

I'm with Marnie here, and wishing you well in all your future ventures. Ah, but 'the illusion of progress' is often all that we can manage sometimes. It's all that can be asked of reality in some circumstances. And mostly it can be satisfying, if you don't question it too closely. There's the rub... Cheers & Good Luck! 'VJ'

[ariela]

Well done, Esther. I'm a true believer in defining distinct moments of transitions for oneself. Although I know you don't need a "New Year's Eve" to make resolutions, it helps to have a day like that to reflect, to take the calendar off the wall (or move forward a month in ical) to toast to a new, better life.

When you take such a conscious step in a certain direction, I think it's like hitting the nitrous. Your engine may be low, but there's a backup reserve, and that baby has power.

Hope you're having a great trip! Please come back soon and let's get some sushi/pinkberry (tho not at the same time...).

[Anna Broadway]

Nicely done! Courageous moves usually lead to good (if not easy) things, in my experience, so here's wishing you the best. :) Hugs and cheers from SF!

[ck]

There's an old Yiddish proverb "We plan, God laughs." It's not very optimistic of course, but it probably originated in some Shtetl where the pale, frightened residents were regularly beset by inquisitions and pogroms and what have you. The interesting part of that choice Yiddish phrase is that it does indeed imply that we are, for better or worse, indeed on God's agenda. And this being the 60th anniversary of the founding of the modern state of Israel, David Kelsey and Eli Valley aside, the days of the weak, frightened ghetto Jew are a thing of the past.

Thus, I hope that we can now plan and incur not God's laughter but rather our deity's benevolent approval. Thanks for 4 years of beautifully written, thought provoking columns. I'm looking forward to what the next 4 years will bring and I trust it will be all that your heart desires.

[Theo]

Basically, you have to learn to accept G-d's will rather than your own. IF you did, you would have been successful at marrying already.

So I see this as a nice step in the right direction.

Your singles columns were usually depressing, whines. You say so your self. Kvetching, is a process where you do not accept G-d's will but that you are running the show. Thw whole Jewish secular movement is about nothing, thus, that is your problem.

Spiritual growth is your ticket to Heaven.

I remain deeply in love with you and await your messages to move to a better place together, here in Amsterdam.

[neil fleischmann]

I debated simply emailing you versus writing a comment. Maybe I'll email too, but for a confluence of reasons I thought a comment was in place.

It was after reading your column about Al Cheits for singles that I was moved to finally start a blog (as well as being prompted to think and sigh and be impressed in the way that only a certain deep,real writing can accomplish). I remain grateful.

I am a fan of your essays big time. You went out with class, a nice sign off. A great run.

I thank you for writing out those pieces; private yet universal.

Thanks agsin (and again). Wishing you the best.

G-d Bless

[Becca]

Oh, please, Theo, God kvetched all the time.

Thanks for all the columns, Esther. They will be missed. Good luck with the future, I know it will be great!

PS, did you ever find out what the actual shoresh was or is that really it?

[Not a Wise Guy]

No one can say you didnt try Esther, but what you were tasked with seems such an illusive goal to so many Jewish women these days as to test the Faith of Job were Job a female.

My suggestion and I dont want to be offensive but my suggestion is engage in casual sex and hopefully become "with child" and raise the then child as a single mom living in Israel. I think you will find fulfillment this way plus contribute to the ongoing future of Israel and the Jewish people.