Welcome to Soulful Jewish Living: Mindful Practices for Every Day with me, Josh Feigelson.
I’m grateful you’re here, and I hope you benefit from our time together.
I’m not a doctor. Okay, I do have a PhD, but I’m not that kind of doctor. Still, just like you, I’m a human being in a human body. So a recent article about the science of our bodies caught my attention. It was about one of those discoveries that is both startlingly new—and, at the same time, radically old.
The discovery in question is called the interstitium, which, if I have it right, can be explained like this. For centuries, Western medicine recognized only two major networks for transporting fluids in the human body: the cardiovascular system for transporting blood, oxygen, and nutrients, and the lymphatic system for transporting waste products out of the body.
Between these two systems our bodies have these fluid-filled gaps inside our connective tissue. This stuff wraps around our organs, our muscles, and our nerves. And, here’s the important part, these interstitial spaces were assumed to be isolated from each other. This was, like, a foundational assumption. And yet, medical researchers now seem to be finding that, surprise surprise, the interstitial spaces are actually connected, and they make up a third system for moving fluids throughout the body. They’re calling this third system the Interstitium (I don’t know about you, but to me that sounds totally badass.)
This new understanding is opening up other new knowledge. For instance, it may help explain why acupuncture works or how certain cancers spread. And it might suggest new treatments for diabetes and inflammatory diseases.
All of which is cool and radically new—and, as I mentioned before, also radically old. Why? Because while modern medicine starts out assuming that these systems are disconnected, some other, more ancient forms of medicine, have long taken for granted that they are all interconnected. Practitioners of traditional Chinese medicine, for instance, are looking at this and saying, “What took you so long?”
This isn’t a medical or science podcast per se, so why am I starting here today? Because this is the second episode in our miniseries leading up to the 250th anniversary of American independence. As I mentioned last week, I want to spend these weeks exploring the idea not just of independence, but of interdependence. And this discovery—or maybe it’s better termed a re-discovery—of the interstitium is a great example to work with.
The Midrash imagines that Adam, the first human being, was originally created to stretch from one end of the world to the other. Another midrash, found in the Talmud, imagines that when we’re in our mother’s womb, there’s a light hanging over us and we know everything there is to know in the world. That is to say, we start off without a sense of separation. We are one with the world, and there’s no sense of a separate self.
And, as the science of pregnancy has demonstrated, we start off our lives neither dependent or independent, but mutually dependent. A fetus, it goes without saying, receives an enormous amount in the womb—but it also provides fetal cells, hormonal signals, and all sorts of other stuff to its mother. Which is to say, from the very moment of our conception, we live in a state of interdependence.
Somewhere along the way, though, it seems like we forget that—or we’re taught to forget it. The same midrash that imagines us with that light over our heads inside the womb, knowing everything there is to know—it also imagines that, just as we come into the world, an angel touches us above our lips and we forget it all (and that’s why we have that little indentation that connects our upper lip to our nose).
We talked last week about how Judaism is fundamentally a communal tradition. There’s no teaching that highlights that idea more than the Talmudic phrase, kol yisrael arevim zeh bazeh, which is usually translated as, “All the people of Israel are responsible for one another.” But the word arevim also suggests mixed up or bound together. And there’s even an ancient manuscript of the Talmud that has it as kol yisrael me’uravin zeh bazeh, all the people of Israel are involved, in a mutually interdependent way, with each other.
As we close today, I want to invite you into a brief practice to help you remember what the angel might have helped you forget.
If it’s safe to do so, close your eyes or turn your gaze inward. Take a few good deep breaths. Allow the body to arrive. Allow the mind to settle.
Now, bring your attention to the boundary of your body—your skin. See if you can notice where your body ends and the chair or the room begins. Or notice if that’s difficult to do.
For most of our waking hours, it seems like our minds operate on the assumption of separation. We feel like isolated islands, entirely responsible for our own survival, carrying our own weight. Notice if that assumption of isolation shows up in you—maybe as a tightness in your jaw, a holding in your breath, or a clenching in your stomach. We might call that a posture of hyper-independence.
Now, take a deep breath in, and as you exhale, see if you can soften the tissue right beneath your skin. Imagine the fluid-filled spaces that wrap around your organs, your muscles, your nerves.
You do not stop at your skin. Your body is constantly importing the oxygen of the room and exporting carbon dioxide back into it. The air you are breathing right now was breathed by someone else an hour ago, or a day ago, or a century ago. You and I—we are structurally porous. We are swimming in an atmospheric interstitium.
Now, bring your index finger up to that little indentation right above your top lip—the philtrum. Just touch it gently.
This is the spot where the midrash says the angel touched you to make you forget your connection to the whole universe. As you hold your finger there, see if you can allow it to be a physical reminder to re-remember—to sense your profound connection to the Oneness of the universe. We are not isolated nodes. We are me’uravin—mixed up, bound, and deeply involved with everything and everyone around us.
Take one more deep breath into that interconnected space. As you exhale, you might try to let go of the burden of having to survive entirely on your own. You are supported by systems you cannot see.
And maybe, the next time you feel the loneliness of thinking you have to do it all yourself, you can touch that space above your lip. You can remember the interstitium. You can remember that our freedom isn’t found in cutting the ties that bind us, but in honoring them.
Blessings for the journey. Know that I’m on it with you.
Thank you for joining us for Soulful Jewish Living: Mindful Practices for Every Day, a production of Unpacked, a brand of OpenDor Media, and the Institute for Jewish Spirituality. This episode is sponsored by Jonathan and Kori Kalafer and the Somerset Patriots: The Bridgewater, NJ-based AA Affiliate of the New York Yankees. If you like this show, subscribe, share this episode with a friend, give us five stars on Apple Podcasts. Check out our website, unpacked.media for everything Unpacked-related, and subscribe to our other podcasts, and check out the Institute for Jewish Spirituality. Most importantly, be in touch–about what you heard today, what you’d like to hear more about, or to dedicate an episode. Write to me at josh@unpacked.media.
This episode was hosted by me, Rabbi Josh Feigelson. Audio was edited by Rob Pera and we’re produced by Rivky Stern. Thanks for joining us.