Erev Yom Kippur and The Concealed Things We Carry

I went to the dentist for a cleaning the other day. As the dentist came in they asked, “anything bothering you today?” I said “no.” But then I thought about it for a moment and said, “you were asking about my teeth, right?” I always enjoy adding a little humor to someone’s day. The dentist laughed and said “if you want to talk about what else is bothering you we can do that too.” To which I replied, “that may be challenging with your tools inside my mouth. Maybe instead, you should share your challenges with me since there’s not much else for me to do anyway other than listen. In fact, maybe I should charge you for this visit.” A few minutes later the dentist asked me about my flossing habits, and I said “wow, this really is like therapy. You’re asking me to reveal things to you that I wouldn’t to anyone else. And I have no reason but to be completely honest with you.” We had a good laugh and moved on. But it got me thinking about the things we hold inside and don’t share with others.

Then on Shabbat morning, I got into a conversation with someone about whether synagogues have Concealed Carrying policies governing whether attendees may carry guns to shul. Without getting into the politics of that discussion, it occurred to me that once again I was thinking about the things that we carry and don’t want others to see.

On Shabbat afternoon, I went to Mincha and the Shabbat Shuva Drasha. But just as Mincha was about to begin, I suddenly felt really unwell. My pulse was racing, my breath was short, and I was sweating a lot. Even after a few minutes, it wasn’t calming down. I asked a Dr. in shul if I should be concerned. He checked my pulse, which seemed fine, and then found another Dr. in shul who is a Cardiologist. We went to the shul office to check my blood pressure. Everything was fine, and after a few minutes I started to feel more like myself. I was able to return to shul and enjoy the Drasha. When I got home after Shabbat I told my wife what happened, and she asked me whether I thought maybe it was a panic attack. That hadn’t occurred to me, as I wasn’t feeling particularly stressed about anything. This episode seemingly came out of nowhere. But the truth is, maybe that’s exactly what it was. Maybe I was carrying some things that I didn’t even realize myself.

So, my hope and bracha for us all this Yom Kippur is that we give ourselves permission to reveal the things we are carrying. Don’t hold it in. Breath it out. Talk it out. Pray it out. And at the end of Yom Kippur, at Neila, make sure nothing gets locked in. Because when we conceal what we carry, we may feel safer, but we also may not realize the stress it causes us to conceal.