The Poet’s Mood

Monday, April 30, 2024, 4:20 PM ET

  Embracing the Glitch

My eyes snapped open, and WHAM, some news dude's panicking on a tiny screen about chaos in the Middle East. Middle what? Like, what even is that? Then it hit me – they said I'd been out cold for fifteen years. Talk about a major glitch in the system.

The world kept spinning while I was on pause. And now? I was trapped, lagging in some messed-up game; I didn't know the rules. I tried to move, but my body was a total failure, straight-up ghosting me. Everything looked blurry as if my brain was still buffering.

Some rando lady said, "Welcome back," as if it was no big deal. Back to what? My memories were one giant 404 error. But weirdly, when I grabbed a water bottle, my hands did the thing automatically. Old habits die hard, leftover code from a life I couldn't access.

They were feeding me some BS about rituals and ways to survive in this nightmare world. But every time I tried, it felt so wrong, like a lousy filter that didn't fit.

 One day, I caught my reflection in total stranger mode. That's when the rage kicked in—the kind you want to scream out on social media until it trends.

Enough was enough. "Change" was just a word I barely understood, but this feeling, this need to break free? That was more real than the apocalypse headlines they kept throwing at me.

City streets, a broken beat

Faces etched with tales of defeat

Lost in the shadows, needles gleam,

Souls adrift in a fading dream.

I walked those streets, a ghost unseen

Unfamiliar with wounds, so keen

Then came a teacher, eyes so bright

Sharing stories, guiding my sight.

No sugarcoating, just truth laid bare.

See their struggles; show you care!

Her words ignited a restless spark.

Change was the calling, my path through the dark.

College halls felt strange at first,

But her wisdom quenched my restless thirst.

The world's in chaos, that much is true,

But hope burns bright, a fire anew.

It's not in castles; I hope it won't hide

But in the trenches, side by side

From failing and rising, strength is born

Fueled by the heart, a brand-new dawn

The unfamiliar script lay before me on a dusty book, a maze of symbols. Deuteronomy 4:6: "Observe them, for this will show your wisdom and understanding to the nations, who will hear about all these decrees and say, 'Surely this great nation is a wise and understanding people.'" The words resonated deep within me, sparking a fire to understand this ancient religion and myself in its light.

 The following day, I found myself sitting across from a wise and compassionate Rabbi, her eyes shining warmly and her hair a rich, dark brown. "The Talmud," I announced, my voice brimming with eagerness, "I want to learn about it."

The rabbi's eyes, crinkled at the corners, held a spark of amusement. A faint smile played on her lips as she leaned back in her chair. "The Talmud," she chuckled, the sound warm and inviting, "is not for the faint of heart. It requires a… particular kind of mind."

She steepled her fingers, his gaze locking with mine. "Let's see if you have it, shall we?" The next hour wasn't a lecture but a series of riddles, each question a challenge that made my brow furrow in concentration.

Down the chimney, two men slide,

One comes out with sunny pride.

The other steps forth, dark as night,

His face all smudged, a sooty sight.

 Now tell me true, who needs to bathe?

The dirty man, your logic sayeth!

But wait! The rabbi's eyes gleam bright,

"Perhaps your answer needs more light.

Think again, and think anew,

A deeper meaning waits for you.

My head did spin, my thoughts took flight,

Each answer wrong, by rabbi's light.

"Give up!" I cried, my mind astray,

This puzzle holds my wits at bay!

He smiled wide, a joyful spark,

The question's where the wisdom starts!

How can two, through darkness wend

Yet at the end, so different stand?

It's not just soap that makes things clean,

But bending thoughts where truth is seen!"

The rabbi is asking me this wild riddle about the chimney, and I'm like, it's obvious. The clean guy stays clean, and the dirty guy washes up. But this lady is smirking and flipping my answers like a game. I felt my brain glitching. Was this lady messing with me?

Finally, I said, "Rabbi, no cap, I'm lost." That whole "right" or "wrong" thing? Yeah, it was breaking down, and honestly, it was low-key freaking me out. I thought I had this world figured out, but this messed with my vibe.

The Rabbi kind of nods, eyes all chill, and she says, "Sometimes the real flex isn't knowing the answers; it's about being open to the questions, the ones that make you rethink everything."

Okay, that hit me hard. Like, if my whole life, I was chasing that certainty: check off the right boxes, and you're golden. This rabbi was showing me that isn’t how it works. The world was way messier and scary but also… exciting. Like, a whole new level to unlock.

 Scrolling through holy books on my phone felt weird, like those ancient memes you find that make zero sense. I'd gone from atheist to wannabe Talmud scholar in the blink of an eye, but right now, I was majorly bugged. My need for clear-cut answers was glitching hard.

The Rabbi sensed my vibe and slid next to me. "Lost in translation?" she asked, not judging, chill.

"Yeah," I sighed. "Like, I wanna get this whole faith thing, but it's so... messy."

She smiled, then tapped a passage. "That's the point, dude. Sometimes, belief isn't about having it all figured out. It's about grappling with the big questions, letting them change you, you know?"

Flashbacks hit me – the chimney riddle, the rabbi messing with my logic. It wasn't about finding that one correct answer. This whole journey was throwing me into the deep end. Sure, it was scary as hell, but maybe it was dope that there was more to explore than the obvious, more than what fits in a neat little box.

Just Yuss