I was sitting with my husband and some friends yesterday studying a Jewish book called “The Sayings of the Fathers”. It’s a book of homilies. Seemingly simple stuff.

I used to study it sometimes with my father on the rare occasions that he would have the time and patience for or interest in that kind of thing.

It always seemed to lack the seriousness and depth of the heavier Jewish tractates. Maybe my father chose it as appropriate keeping in mind that one of the homilies advises men not to spend too much time talking to women so as not to engage in nonsensical conversation…or worse.

Climbing out of the time machine back into the present, there we were studying this book of homilies and we came to 5 student rabbis and their teacher (the Big Rebbe) sitting around trying to determine what one needs most in order to lead a worthy life. (the first branch of yoga – the yamas)

One student claimed “A good eye”. The second said “a good friend”. Another said “a good neighbor”. The fourth offered, “the ability to foresee what is to come.” The final student countered with “a good heart.” Their teacher agreed with the last student saying that having a good heart incorporates all the other answers.

Then the teacher asked his students what evil should one most shun in order to live a worthy life.  (the second branch of yoga – the niyamas).

One student said “an evil eye”. The second said “an evil associate”. Another said “an evil neighbor”. The fourth offered, “borrowing and not repaying”. The final student countered with “an evil heart”. Their teacher agreed with the last student saying that having an evil heart incorporates all the other answers.

In the Jewish tradition of learning (called pilpul; that sing-songy kind of debating) the conversation between us went on as to whether or not the students referred to being a good friend, being a good neighbor or having a good friend and a good neighbor; and what is a “worthy” life anyway? much less a “good heart” or an “evil heart”.

But, really, we all knew what the book meant.

So I listened to the conversation with one ear (these are people I love after all) but found myself drifting peacefully inward like a fallen leaf floating gently downstream on a sunny autumn day when there’s very little wind.

Years of listening to podcasts, reading books, meditating and leading meditation.

Lovingkindness meditations. Gratitude meditations.

Compassion. Equanimity. Non-violence. Impermanence.

Inter-connectiveness.

Beginner’s mind.

Letting go.

And it all comes down to a good heart, doesn’t it?

Thich Nhat Hanh calls it “love” and so does Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz.

            ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE

A heart filled with love allows us to feel compassion for that crazy Israeli driver who zig-zags his way down the highway endangering himself…and all of us.

A heart filled with love allows us to keep our partner’s goodness in mind when some not so good things happen.

A heart filled with love helps us to meet our lives with an inner smile, with gratitude for the very breath that supports us in every moment, even the moments of sadness, illness and disappointment.

And, yes, a heart filled with love creates in us a good eye which creates in us a good friend and neighbor who sees the goodness in others  and even the ability to foresee what is to come, because we are open to whatever it may be.

I’ve often told my children when they have a falling out one with the other or with me or their father that if we keep in mind that the foundation of our relationship is that we love each other and wish each other well – all can be forgiven as a misunderstanding or misstep. We need not suspect a hidden intended hurt or bad intention. Nor need we don our barbed, protective clothing after brushing our teeth in the morning.

And isn’t that what it means to have a good heart?

And isn’t that what leads to a worthy life?

Simple stuff? Maybe not so much.

As my husband says, we all may seem fine from the front but we each carry around a “peckelach” on our back 

from life’s journey so far. The result of things not turning out quite as we planned. The odd hurtful comment here and whispered gossip behind our back there. The random betrayals and losses.

We may not have to protect ourselves (or at least not very often) from the animal predator pouncing on us from where it lies in wait but we’ve learned we have to protect ourselves from the hurts that human predators can inflict, some as poignant as that lion’s snarl and often even unintentional.

Not so easy to open our hearts.

It’s a journey of tikun, or mending.

Tikun of the soul.

Tikun of the heart.

Not always, but often, I recognize how far I’ve traveled down that path and feel mightily blessed.

And most days, even the recognition of how far I still must journey is no longer daunting.