When My Mother Was Evacuated from Turkey in the Middle of the Night

A few weeks ago, my mother was part of the first synagogue delegation from the US to travel to Saudi Arabia and Turkey in an effort to build relationships and show support for Turkey in the aftermath of the tragic earthquake that killed more than 54,000 people. Little did she know that she would experience a sudden exodus and be forced to leave Turkey at the drop of a hat.

The first part of their trip in Saudi Arabia proceeded as planned. In Turkey they met with the victims of the earthquake who were brought to Istanbul, and they also met with Rabbi Chitrik, the Chabad emissary for Turkey and Chief Rabbi of the Istanbul Ashkenazic community, who dug through the rubble to save 500-year-old Torah scrolls in Antakya. The delegation was looking forward to spending Shabbat in Turkey when suddenly my mother heard a knock on her hotel room door at 3:30 AM Friday.

“You have to leave immediately,” the authorities told her. Her group had to evacuate immediately – it was too dangerous for them to remain even a day longer. Arrangements were made for the group to get on the next flight out of Turkey. Everyone began packing their bags.

My mother felt it was like the night before leaving Egypt. There was no warning, no time. Get out!

The only place they could get to before Shabbat was Israel. My mother felt it was like the night before leaving Egypt. There was no warning, no time. Get out! Pack whatever you can. This is your wake-up call. Go now.

You may not have had a knock on your hotel room door informing you of an imminent threat, but chances are you’ve had some other wake-up call in your life. Sometimes the knock on the door is softer and more subtle. Sometimes the noise of everything else in your life is so loud that you can’t even hear it. And sometimes, you don’t want to answer the call because even though you know it’s time to leave, it’s so much easier to stay and remain asleep than face all of the inherent discomfort and uncertainty of change.

But freedom requires moving forward from your constricted place. There is a unique, spiritual energy in the month of Passover that is available as you reflect on the wake-up calls in your life. Here are three questions you can ask yourself that can help lead you towards inner freedom.

1. What gives my life meaning?

What are your core beliefs? Which of your values are you willing to uphold even when it’s painful and challenging?

In his new book, Never Finished, Navy Seal and speaker David Goggins writes: “There are two levels to belief. There’s the surface level, which our coaches, teachers, therapists and parents love to preach. ‘Believe in yourself,’ they all say, as if the thought alone can keep us afloat when the odds are against us in the battle of our lives. But once exhaustion sets in, doubt and insecurity tend to penetrate and dissipate that flimsy brand of belief. Then there’s the belief born in resilience. It comes from working your way through layers of pain, fatigue and reason and ignoring the ever-present temptation to quit until you strike a source of fuel you didn’t even know existed.”

Your inner freedom depends on your willingness to fight for and endure challenges for the values and beliefs that reside at the core of your being.

2. Who am I connected to?

We are wired for connection; it’s essential for our well-being and happiness.

Robert Waldinger’s conclusions from the 80-year long Harvard study through multiple generations on happiness can be summed up in one sentence: good relationships are the number one predictors of happiness in life. Despite this, some people are taught to believe that needing others is a weakness. Brene Brown said, “Somehow, we’ve come to equate success with not needing anyone. Many of us are willing to extend a helping hand, but we’re very reluctant to reach out for help when we need it ourselves. It’s as if we have divided the world into ‘those who offer help’ and ‘those who need help.’ The truth is that we are both.”

Your inner freedom can only be found when you are willing to be vulnerable enough to connect with your families, your friends and your communities in a way in which you are both giving and receiving from each other.

3. What am I grateful for?

It’s extraordinary how focusing on what you are grateful for can block and dissipate all that you feel that you lack. It’s not only the current blessings that you need to remind yourself of but also the past ‘coincidences’ and events that have brought you here to this day. As Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote: “Cultivate the habit of being grateful for every good thing that comes to you and to give thanks continuously. And because all things have contributed to your advancement, you should include all things in your gratitude.”

The path to your inner freedom depends on recognizing the present goodness in your life and focusing on the goodness that has brought you to this day.

My Terrifying Wake-Up Call

I had my own frightening wake-up call a few weeks ago. I was on the summit of a mountain in Utah, skiing with my youngest son who is normally a very safe, cautious skier. It was towards the end of the day and I was following him down the mountain when I suddenly saw his red coat veer onto a double black diamond slope. My son is a good skier, but the slope that he turned onto was treacherous.

I followed him down the steep mountain, experiencing sudden jumps as I tried to find his red ski jacket. After almost tumbling down a cliff, I slowed down and realized that I was all alone on that slope. Not one other skier. It was snowing heavily by then and I could hardly see my phone as I pulled it out of my pocket to call my son. There was no signal.

I looked down the insane slope and up at the vast sky, engulfed by complete silence. I was scared. Shaking scared. Where was my son? How was I going to get down this mountain? It was a wake-up call rising through the trees, carried on the howling winds on a mountain too high for me to descend on my own. I begged for help: God, help me down this mountain. Protect my child. Show me a way forward.

I was achingly, deeply grateful.

And He did, as He always has. It turned out it wasn’t my son who went onto that slope. It was someone else with a red coat who had changed his mind after seeing the slope and cut back through the trees. My son, a little shaken up, was waiting for me at the bottom of the mountain.

I was achingly, deeply grateful. Thank You, I whispered when I saw my son. Thank You, I whispered when I remembered the steep, impossible cliffs that He had brought me down. Thank You, not only for saving me but for the wake-up call that reminded me that it was time to leave behind the distractions that caused me to lose track of what gives my life meaning. Time to move forward from the space where I am on my own, disconnected from the people who really matter to me. Time to stop focusing on lack and start seeing the constant miracles and blessings that have brought me to this day.

It was time to leave. Time to be free.