“The world is a narrow bridge. The important thing is to not be afraid.” 

I’ve always been suspicious of this statement of Rabbi Nachman of Breslov, an 18th Century Hassidic sage. I freely admit my skeptical mind and snarky tendency often run amok when something strikes me as too simplistic or unrealistic and “touchy-feely.”

Here’s my quick, unbridled response to the esteemed Rabbi, which I refrained from starting with the popular words “with all due respect…” that serve as camouflage for “you really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The Narrow Bridge
The world is not really narrow, it is wide and dangerous,
it is my life that is a narrow bridge between birth and death,
so narrow, so fragile, hanging precariously,
swaying in the fierce winds of time.
How can I not be afraid?

So there, Reb Nachman.

A family of Daddy Long Legs lives in the bathroom of our apartment. They are most often hidden, out of sight somewhere in the cracks and crevices, weaving their fragile strands from the dust of the earth.

Not a big fan of spiders. I know, I know, they are probably not technically spiders. According to Wikipedia, Daddy Long Legs are a “species of harvestman, belonging to the family Phalangiidae,” a description that does nothing to address my lack of understanding about the details and complexities of their existence, or enlighten me about what struggles and fears a Daddy Long Legs might have.

Lately there has been a very small harvestman hanging precariously under the shelf above the spot where I keep my toothbrush. Every night I look at it closely, wondering whether it knows it might be in danger from this giant creature who shows up on a regular basis and engages in a ritual of cleansing her mouth with a waxed string that looks suspiciously like something the harvestman itself might have created. I wonder if it feels afraid, does it hope for deliverance from danger, for rescue, or plea for compassion from this being that could, with one careless sweep of hand, eliminate it from the face of the earth?

A few days ago I found a slightly different translation of the second part of Rabbi Nachman’s statement. Instead of saying “the important thing is not to be afraid,” it might be translated (or at least reasonably interpreted) as “the important thing is not to become paralyzed by fear.” Fear can be a reasonable and life-saving response in many situations. The important thing is learning how to moderate the effects of fear, to understand the danger of making fear a go-to response to all of life’s sorrow and pain.

Rabbi Nachman is said to have suffered from severe depression, but still he fiercely emphasized the power of joy and hope. 

“Remember: Joy is not merely incidental to your spiritual quest. It is vital. Nothing is as liberating as joy. It frees the mind and fills it with tranquility. Losing hope is like losing your freedom, like losing yourself.”

When I see the small Daddy Long Legs hanging precariously from its fragile bridge I think of dust and hope and the fierce desire of all living creatures to survive. Of fear and sorrow and fate and the infinitesimal space between life and death. 

I feel a kinship with this fragile creature who shares my limited time and small place on this earth. So I whisper “You don’t need to be afraid. You are safe here this night. See you tomorrow, same time, same place.” 

I doubt very much that it can hear or understand me.  
Perhaps I am really talking to myself.

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