Rebbe Nachman in Costa Rica

As far as I know, Nachman of Bratzlav did not winter in Costa Rica. The late 18th century hasidic rebbe remained tucked away in Ukraine, warmed by the fires of fervent prayer while the snow piled high on his doorstep. Still, walking on the beach, I thought of his famous words....All the world's a very narrow bridge....The essential thing is not to fear at all. With this in mind, I abandoned all previous identities. I let go of bookworm, acrophobic, fried couch potato...and signed up for a rainforest excursion that featured crossing a series of canopy bridges leading to a waterfall. It was me, Juan the guide, and a young couple from California. I cast myself in the role of the determined older woman who deserved no end of credit for her courage. The hike began with a climb of more than an hour up rough-hewn stone steps interspersed with other steps made out of discarded motorcycle tires filled with dried mud. The journey had the quality of a pilgrimage, something along the lines of Our Lady of Fátima, only upright, without the part where the devotees walk on their knees. The ascent in the sultry jungle heat was definitely a test. It seemed to be designed to wear me down, so that by the time we arrived at the canopy bridges, my resistance was exhausted. There was no turning back.

It's not often that you encounter a spiritual exercise made literally manifest. All the world really is a narrow bridge! I had planned to say the Sh'ma each time I crossed over. This prayer, central to Jewish practice, proclaims the Divine Oneness of all things. It is said every day by observant Jews, but also at the moment of death, to indicate that the essence of the person is about to return to its source, to the All. I imagined that it would balance out the narrow bridge effect, fortifying me with a connection to the sky, the vegetation, the birds, reconfiguring the landscape so the fear couldn't get me. I thought about saying the Sh'ma when I stepped out onto the first span, but I made the mistake of not waiting until Juan got to the other side. The bridge rocked up and down and swung back and forth like a pendulum under his footfall. After that, I forgot about praying and just waited my turn. Everything was still. All I had to do was put one foot in front of the other.

After crossing ten or twelve rope bridges and descending the slope on more improvised steps, we arrived at the promised waterfall. I had already been swimming in the high-saline Pacific for many days, as well as a chlorinated pool in an area that featured a faint septic smell.  Nothing could prepare me for the clarity of the cascading rainforest water, clean like the unmediated joy of a baby's smile. It seemed to be absolutely transparent, with no solid precipitates. It was invitingly cold and regenerating, just the right ritual of purification after the sweaty trials of the day.

Safely back in Manuel Antonio, massaging my feet and considering the spiritual integration of climbing, crossing and immersion, I thought of another of Rebbe Nachman's aphorisms. If you believe breaking is possible, believe fixing is possible. It was noon and I hadn't thought about Betsy DeVos since early in the morning. When the shadow of her malignant presence reappeared in my awareness, I realized that in our current situation, it is no exercise of the imagination to believe that breaking is possible. Everywhere we see the intentional dismantling, the fracturing, of democratic norms and institutions we naively thought were inviolable. Public education, for God's sake! Once it was pretty good, then it became pretty bad. Now it's in danger of falling victim to the wrecking ball....Welcoming immigrants! As recently as 2012, I cried at a naturalization ceremony at the Rockwell Museum when 22 grateful new Americans took an oath of allegiance to our country. Now immigrants are reviled.

It's a stretch in this environment to believe that fixing is possible. In order to get to that place, we will have to exercise our capacity for vision. There will be a long climb over rocky and unfamiliar territory. We may be called upon to put one foot in front of the other and step out onto a narrow bridge that doesn't feel entirely safe and then another bridge and another. Like the mystery of childbirth, getting from breaking to fixing will require faith, endurance and hard labor. We will have to stick together, hold on to the redemptive image of the waterfall and wear good shoes. The essential thing is not to fear.


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