Humbled and Slightly Caffeinated Reflections of a Newly-Minted Writer
by: Elisheva Liss, LMFT
Hi, folks. I’m going to deviate from my usual blogging style in today’s post. I generally open with a hypothetical or well-disguised case, and use the story as a springboard to highlight a relevant point.
But today, I’m going to address you, my readers, directly, and speak about myself, kind of from deep in my soul-ish. I’m so grateful to you and to Nefesh for providing a forum whereby I know I’m connecting with Jewish sisters and brothers, most of whom I would otherwise not intersect. I’m also grateful to Nefesh for allowing its members access to the data that tell me how many thousands of times these words get clicked, despite the scarcity of public commenting (myself included), so I know they’re not proverbial trees falling in an ear-less forest. I deeply appreciate the private emails and phone calls that come through this blog- confiding, questioning, challenging, debating, thanking, encouraging, social media shares, and of course the professional opportunities it has precipitated. But honestly, the most meaningful feedback I get is when I hear someone has found it personally helpful.
Work, of any kind, brings with it the choice to stagnate or elevate. Writing has always been a great joy for me- I love words and expression and people and personal transformation and yammering. In early adulthood, I became a teacher because I, oh-so-originally, wanted to “make a difference.” (Plus- people have to listen to you “when it might be on the test.”) For just over a decade it was deeply fulfilling, and I used to constantly rumble with my own arrogance, asking myself: Am I doing this for the right reasons? Am I just sublimating the limelight? Is this ever just narcissism dressed up as mentorship? Why are they looking at me like that? Am I wearing my sweater inside-out again? I endeavored to be someone for whom the message trumped the medium, sometimes succeeding, other times less so. I would pray to be the sort of teacher/ speaker (and subsequently, therapist) who cared more that the content delivered would make meaningful impact than that my name would be remembered. That if given the choice: “Your listeners could be impressed by you, but then not really be helped by the words, OR your listeners will dismiss you personally, but the ideas will help them”- I would opt for the latter. And again, some days I pass that test better than others- (the ego can be stubborn that way, and gold stars are so shiny).
Then, for a variety of personal reasons (and maybe a different blog post) I opted to go back to school to pursue a career as a therapist. (Mostly because it was cheaper than getting my own therapy.) The next decade and change were devoted to slightly more ulterior altruism- helping, yes, but more on my own terms- I didn’t want my hours, salary, content, agenda, meetings, and demographic dictated by institutions and superiors. I’ve always bucked against rules and authority, and I wanted to follow my own inner compass. Also, getting called to principal’s office and reprimanded is significantly less cool in your 30s- trust me. So I began the bumpy, risky road to private practice. G-d has blessed me and my colleagues with the opportunity to learn from and work with a broad cross-section of His children, and despite the intensity of human suffering we witness, I’m awed by clients’ resilience and G-d’s Divine assistance in this holy work. I am fortunate to be able to now access people individually, cut to the chase, focus in on their therapeutic goals, and try to assist them in achieving them. (And no more parent-teacher conferences, G-d bless us all.)
But as many of us do around midlife: I kept feeling like it wasn’t enough. Teaching had been great; we could (hopefully) inform and inspire large groups of students “en masse.” (And the summers off were sweet.) But because of the academic and collective nature of the work, it was largely superficial, often temporary influence. The scholastics were a constant distraction from the existential. (I would try to be all Robin Williams-profound, finding myself inspirational, and then they were all like: “Is that gonna be on the final?”)
Doing therapy was great; for one thing, my clients were not forced into my office by truancy laws. We could (again, I hope) zoom in and dig up core issues that individuals and couples were grappling with, sort them out, and then send them on their blissful way- healthier, happier, and more empowered. (Plus I could now afford to pay the orthodontist.) Yet, there are only so many hours in a day, only so many folks who can afford the time, money, and vulnerability required to pursue private therapy.
But writing. Now here was a way to reach out, to share ideas and information, confidential for the readers, and cost-efficient for everyone. It’s something I enjoy which can quite literally be achieved in pajamas. I began to write articles and blog post sand letters and emails. And, eventually, finally, a book. Writing, at least this sort of casual, contemporary, self-help genre, involves a certain amount of personal disclosure- a willingness to get real with readers, even beyond a blog, and especially more than is appropriate in the office. But I felt that if the words were going to mean something, they would need to be somewhat personally flavored, and that was exciting but also super-scary. (I’m still working on those dang social cues…)
Like teaching, therapizing, lecturing, and writing still force me to continually and vigilantly battle my own ego; Oh, how I envy the naturally modest… But I decided to go ahead with trying to help other humans, despite my own many vices; if I wait to be a perfectly developed person in order to support others, I may never get to be contributive. (Also- it keeps me out of the candy cupboard.)
Producing the book was more work than I anticipated, but it’s done. The next stage is to stay focused on its message as a qualitative tool, not a popularity contest. Not to measure its worth (or my own) on the basis of numbers- purchases, likes, or reviews, but to take joy and find gratification in the private, individual shared and unshared stories of those who were able to benefit from the inherent value therein. Of course I want it to sell, but as I explained to my marketing consultant: I would rather sell the book to a small number of buyers who find it helpful, than to a large audience who doesn’t. (Then I became the first client to be fired by her own marketing consultant.) As a naturally crummy entrepreneur, I want to find the balance between healthy marketing and frantic promotion, but I suppose that’s the rub with all relationship-building, right? To be driven not by the adrenaline of admiration, but the contentment of connection. (I’m a hopeless alliteration-nerd.)
Again, unlike my usual blogging style, I’m not even exactly sure what my point is. I guess it’s mostly: Thanks. Thank you to the Nefesh organization and blog readership (and/or whoever else somehow gets to these posts) for giving me the courage to take writing a notch up. (It feels a little dramatic to call that “courage” in a world with firefighters and kidney donors, but it’s a pop-psych zeitgeist, so let’s go with it.)
And I guess this is also a prayer: Dear G-d, please allow my work and words to bring light to dark places, to bring warmth to cold hearts and homes. Please allow my spirit to be humble and sincere, and my motives to be pure. Give me the confidence and wisdom to find the right language and tone to promote wellness, happiness, humor, and spiritual consciousness, and balance it with the perspective and humility to always remember that it all comes from You; I’m just lucky to be the dispensable delivery gal.
Have you ever wondered how often people engage in sexual activity?
Or how often is optimal for healthy, happily married couples to aim for?
(I purposely used the euphemism “be intimate” in the title because often, people who ask this question in the framework of “supposed to” are uncomfortable with the more direct language of “have sex.” They may prefer to say things like : “be together, do it, make love, have relations, etc.” Whatever works:)
Couples therapists get this question a lot, especially from people who feel like they didn't or don't have enough information in the area of sexuality education.
It’s a legitimate curiosity, but the answer may be unsatsifying.
Firstly: “supposed to” is not a great framework for healthy sex. It works better when the focus is on mutual pleasure, not obligation or comparison.
Second: Frequency is not something that is mandated. Not psychologically, not legally, not Biblically.
It’s determined by and customized to each couple.
There is a Medrash that describes this, and is quoted by Rashi in this week’s Torah portion (I’m writing this the week of VaYishlach, but you can read it any week:)
When Yaakov sent gifts of livestock to his brother Esav, the Torah lists in great detail, the numbers and species of all the animals in the caravan.
Why do we care how many he-goats and she-goats there were?
The answer offered is that the ratio of male to female animals was determined by how often they needed to mate, which was determined by how strenuously they worked. The Medrash extrapolates an analogy to human mating schedules. (The paradigm used by the Talmudic literature is phrased in terms of a husband’s requirement to be available for his wife, not the reverse, but sex should always be consensual both ways.)
The Medrash says that men of leisure might be available daily, laborers twice weekly, donkey drivers once a week, camel drivers ones a month, and sailors/ those who travel for work, every six months.
Of course these are just some examples but Rashi goes on to explain:
“From here we learn that this need is not equal to every person [or couple.]” It depends on the couple’s individual schedules, emotional, and physical limitations and needs.
I’ve heard many people say that they were initially under the impression that couples only have sex when they want to conceive a baby. They were genuinely shocked to learn otherwise. This is not so ludicrous, when you consider the fact that many young people are taught about sex only in the framework of “how babies are made” if that much. Of course, most couples have far more sexual activity than they do children or attempts to conceive them.
It’s a legitimate query to ask how often couples have sex, but there isn’t a one size fits all answer.
Naturally there are some broad, cultural averages, and data. The most commonly quoted one is approximately once a week, but the numbers range significantly, and fluctuate within each couple based on many variables, such as stages of life like pregnancies, having babies and young children, medical or situational factors, and other variables that often make it challenging or more feasible. So please do not use that average to shame yourself or your partner for wanting more or less than that!
The healthiest answer to "how often should a couple be intimate is “as often as works well for both of them at each stage and season of life.”
Desire discrepancies and changes in libido over time are normal, but if you're finding that yours or your partner's are feeling disruptive to your relationship, please take the time to have a loving, strategizing conversation about it with your spouse, read up on the subject, and if necessary reach out for help.
Check out my course!
A Religious Families Guide to Healthy Holy Sex Education: Sacred Not Secret
Elisheva Liss, LMFT is a psychotherapist in private practice. Her book, Find Your Horizon of Healthy Thinking, is available on Amazon.com. She can be reached for sessions or speaking engagements at speaktosomeone@gmail.com More of her content can be found at ElishevaLiss.com