(The story of my life reveals how Hashem supports the fallen and heals the sick, blessed be His name)

I was born in Israel in the 1960’s. My parents separated when my sister and I were very young. My mother left home, and established a new family. We didn’t lose contact with her completely, by I had a difficult childhood as a result of the hate my parents felt and expressed towards one another. We moved with my father often, which made life even harder. I was a bright child, with an active imagination, but I wasn’t outspoken. I was a quiet little boy, living in a very large make-believe world of my own. When I was eleven years old, I developed an interest in girls. In our class, relationships blossomed and died between boys and girls, and an atmosphere of competition prevailed at school.

My sister moved in with my mother, leaving me to fend on my own with my father. My father and I argued more and more often, and I began to experience difficulties at school. I often escaped to the fields around the town where I lived, to watch the plants and insects that flourished there. It was a way to release tension, and get away from the choking existence at home. I spent my teenage years trying to survive in a number of different schools, and my father’s growing dissatisfaction. From his perspective, he was only trying to prevent me from failing in life.

I immersed myself deeper and deeper into my fantasy world, complete with its beautiful scenery. Rivers and streams, shooting stars, bright colors. I didn’t need to take drugs. My imagination provided me with enough pleasure and distraction. I didn’t need any artificial stimulation.

What I was always lacking in life was a warm, mother figure. I was missing motherly love, and I had trouble defining my own sexual identity. I was in some ways very feminine, and that was disturbing to discover in myself. The relationship I had with my father grew increasingly turbulent, and at age seventeen I left home and went to live on a kibbutz.

In the kibbutz, I was a person in my own right, though I never became a member of the kibbutz. The work in the fields, and the beauty of nature were a welcome addition to my small, lonely world. When I enlisted in the army, I had to face myself again. The rigorous basic training program, with all its physical and mental stresses, shook me once again out of my fantasy world. I fell straight into reality as I ran alongside all the other soldiers in my unit. But my personal struggles still troubled me.

After spending a year and a half in the army, I became so bitter and depressed that I was eventually discharged. I went out into civilian life with no plan or sense of direction. I began to wander, and ended up at a hippy festival called the “Rainbow Gathering”. I met a long-haired, nomadic individual, with shining eyes, and I was attracted by his spirituality. I wanted to develop a relationship with him, but something held me back.

I went to live as a volunteer in a small settlement in the desert. I often spoke with my cousin, who loved me very much, and he was a much needed source of encouragement. I was an attractive young man, but still a loner, and alone. I didn’t have much inner strength, and wanted to be somewhere sheltered from the rest of the world. I wanted to find a safe haven, where I could open up and try to heal. At age twenty-one, I started to see a psychologist. I analyzed all the painful parts of my life – my relationship with my parents, my sexual orientation, and everything buried in my internal world.

At that stage in my life I began to read books about religions of the Far East, Japanese Zen poetry, and other spiritual texts. The books awakened a spiritual side of myself that I had never realized existed within me. I missed my long-haired nomadic friend, and went to look for him in Eilat, where he had last been seen. I walked along the beach all the way to the Egyptian border, and then turned to walk back. Suddenly, I noticed a figure standing in the water, with his back to me. The figure turned around to face me – it was the friend I had been searching for. We hugged each other, happy to be reunited, and spent an enchanting Shabbos together in a desert canyon near Eilat. We sat on a hilltop, banging on drums and shouting to the moon. Afterwards, I went home and resumed therapy. Despite the pleasant time I had with my friend, I knew that I would have to continue seeing my psychologist, if I wanted to be fully healed.

At a later stage of my therapy, I traveled south with a group of friends, and again had a strong desire to visit the nomad. I hitchhiked to Eilat, and suddenly felt as though my entire life was collapsing inside my head. As though the sun was burning me from the inside out. I wanted to sleep for a thousand years. With the last of my strength, I made it back to my father’s house. I spent a long period cocooned in bed, afraid to go outside. I was completely helpless. At that point, I was admitted to a mental hospital. The psychiatrists fed me handfuls of pills, which soon transformed me into a fat, shapeless creature. My relatives were shocked when they came to visit, and found a lifeless zombie in my place. But the Creator of the world had pity on me. I have no idea how the change came over me, but I suddenly wanted to get out of the hospital. I understood that my fantasy world was only a bubble that covered up my pain. I understood that going crazy would not give me true freedom from the world. I certainly didn’t want to be surrounded by mentally ill people any longer.

I was released from the hospital, and in the merit of my supportive family and an understanding psychiatrist, I began to heal. I got a job, and enrolled in an art class. I moved to the north, and studied with a spiritual healer I met. He adhered to a method of introspection, and analyzing oneself and one’s behaviors. I tried to sit and observe my passing thoughts, to take notice of my breathing. I experienced a spiritual awakening, and from that moment on I have enjoyed a wonderful gift. I sense that the whole world is united as one huge being, and a life-giving energy flows through all of Creation, through the entire Universe.

In spite of my serious pursuit of spiritual fulfillment (I dreamed of one day traveling to India), I followed a gut instinct to try to build a lasting relationship with a woman. Once I had finished my studies, and had failed at numerous attempts to find a partner for life, I did finally go to India. I came back to Israel after a short trip, bringing home with me new experiences and impressions. I reconnected with a woman I had entered a relationship with before my trip.

We had a son together, but after a relatively short time, we split up. That broke me. I discarded what few possessions I had, and began a life of wandering. I ended up one day at a Christian monastery in the Judean Mountains, and there I began to pray to Hashem to help me. I was a lost and lonely man, and I begged for direction. Until that moment, I had never paid any attention to whether or not I had a direct connection to Hashem. The spiritual theories I had explored until then had not addressed the issue of a relationship between a Creator and his creation. All I had focused on was methods of self-awareness. In the monastery, all the anger I had bottled up inside of me was set loose, and I began to curse Hashem. I threw the Tanach on the floor in fury. By speaking openly to Hashem, for the first time ever, I reached the understanding that there is a higher power that oversees my personal life. I knew that there was a fine thread of love connecting us, though it was more often than not concealed from view.

I left the monastery, and moved back north. I was living in an isolated shack on a Moshav, with not a soul nearby. I prayed, and talked to my Creator. Suddenly, the name “yud-kay-vav-kay” took on meaning for me. It was an amazing revelation – as though a jolt of electricity passed through me and infused me with fresh energy. I felt at one with Hashem, and knew that Hashem was Elokim – the Lord. And all that time, I still didn’t know that Judaism would be the final path I followed. Later on, I made the connection between  tzitzit and mitzvoth. I realized that the physical strings served as channels and cables for the spiritual energy of the mitzvot to move between the individual observing the commandments, and the Source of those commandments. The  tzitzitwas the vessel through which I could bind myself to Hashem. Once I knew that I could have a relationship with a spiritual entity, while still living in the material world, I felt I was finally reaching a point of mental and emotional stability. I was ready to renew contact with my partner and son, but attempts to salvage our relationship were unsuccessful. Eventually, I understood that I would have to move on.

While I was perfecting my understanding of Hashem and his place in my world, I was simultaneously undergoing a struggle with a desire to ignore all sexual taboos and restraints. On the one hand, I was experiencing a spiritual ascent, and on the other hand, I was fighting against physical temptations which I knew would only bring me down, if I succumbed. I underwent a fierce internal battle, and the stress was so great that I got sick.

I lay in bed, weak and burning up with fever, alone in my little shack. It was the middle of winter, and the roof and walls leaked. I felt close to death – physical, as well as spiritual. Then I had a dream in which I saw two forces battling each other. After I woke up, I began to get better. I regained my strength, and continued on the path to teshuva.  I made friends with a group of people who had connected to an American Jewish “guru”. He had recently come to Israel, and had spent the entire summer living in a cave. Shabbos meals were eye openers for me. We prayed and ate together, and on one of my visits to the cave, I had a wonderful experience.

I stood on the edge of a cliff, and imagined what it would be like to jump off into an unknown world. I sensed that I would likely fall into a deep pit, or an infinite sea. But I knew if I jumped, then no matter what, no matter how much water passed over my head, I would be protected. (I live my life with that same though in mind, even today. When I undergo spiritual tests and have to cope with material challenges, I have complete faith in Hashem.)

I didn’t stay in contact with that particular group of people for very long. Their ideas about Judaism were tainted with Christian undertones, and I was ready to connect with authentic, Orthodox Judaism. I wanted to learn about my religion from a holy standpoint. My friend asked me to fly with him to the tomb of Rabbi Nachman, in Uman, for Rosh Hashana. I didn’t know very much about Rabbi Nachman’s teachings.

I joined up with a lively, loud group on the trip, who laughed and joked all the way through Rosh Hashana. I was still not familiar with the Brelsov way of being silly, if only in order to reach a level of simcha. I was at the holy tomb, and I wandered in the strange forest, among apple trees, and between decrepit shacks made of red bricks. Inside, I was depressed.

I came back to Israel with a pile of books. Back home, I started to study the holy seforim in earnest. The teachings of Rabeinu Rabbi Nachman, our holy rebbe from Breslov: hisbodedus in the forests with releasing screams, admitting one’s sins and asking Hashem to show us the way, and how to be a Jew. I plunged into the strange, new world, and didn’t always feel like it was where I belonged. I joined a chareidi community, which viewed clean clothes and learning in yeshiva as ideals to strive for.

I had come from a world of hard work, and artistic creativity. It would be hard for me to adjust to a life of full time study in a yeshiva. Through a new group of friends, I formed a connection with the “Saba”, Rabbi Yisroel Dov Odesser, a precious student of Rabbi Nachman (that is how he is referred to in the petek). The words of the Saba rang true in my ears. He spoke of the power a True Tzaddik has to pull people back up, who have fallen to the lowest and most detestable of places, and bring them close to Hashem, through hisbodedus, taking control over ones negative thoughts, discovering positive sides of themselves and of every person they encounter, joy, giving the benefit of the doubt, optimism, searching for Truth… When questions and doubts rise up within a man, he needs to ask himself, “Have I been searching for the Truth? Have I understood everything there is to understand?” And most important of all is to disregard his intellectual side, and his knowledge, and to admit that he doesn’t know what is True at all.

I can only follow the path of faith, and only through faith will I merit to see Hashem’s holy intervention in my life – how he feels compassion for me, and draws me ever closer… I learned that there is a concept of a True Tzaddik, and that his soul is derived from the soul of Moshe, and that he can rescue us from the clutches of the sitra achra. I merited to learn the holy name, “Na Nach Nachma Nachman Me’Uman”.

Slowly but surely, I absorbed the knowledge that Hashem exists, and that by increasing one’s happiness, one can find a solution to all his troubles. Because the most powerful weapon that the angel of death, the Evil One, possesses, is the depression and black moods people experience. Under the influence of those negative traits, people are more likely to commit misdeeds, bringing them to material and spiritual ruin.

I have had the merit to establish a new family, and have a wonderful wife and children. We have been through many hard times since we have been married, at home and outside of it, but we are getting stronger every day. Mainly by staying in contact with the True Tzaddik, who gives us understanding and energy to observe the words of the Torah. To search and pray for contact with our Creator, to ask for Him, whether we are feeling close, or happen to feel at some moment very distant.

We know that even if Hashem seems to distance Himself from us, Heaven forbid, it is only in order to cause us to seek Him out again, with more force and determination than before. May we all be forgiven for our sins, may our acts of teshuva be acceptable in Hashem’s eyes, and may we all merit to go up to the Beis HaKedusha, to enter the ports of holiness.

In conclusion, I would like to summarize my process of healing, as it occurred in three main stages:

1. My connection with the True Tzaddik, and his wonderful followers, who are working hard to make his name known throughout the world.

2. Working to repair and improve my middos – my character traits – within my family. To lead a pure and holy family life, behaving modestly in our home, while showering infinite love on our children.

3. Rediscovering my artistic, creative side, and using those talents to publicize Hashem’s name in the world.

I went into great depth when describing the different ways I have sinned in the past. That was in order to convey to others that no matter how far they believe they have strayed, they can still find Hashem if they really look for Him.

“Peace, peace to him that is far off, and to him that is near, saith the Lord, and I will heal him.” (Isaiah, 57:19)