Shabbat Reflection - What If?
This week I was supposed to open the calendar and find a date for dinner with friends I have been wanting to have over for too long.
I was also supposed to find and book tickets to Israel.
I didn't do either one.
And yes, I'm very busy. But that wasn't the reason.
The reason is that whenever I think about anything like this, a second sentence arrives.
But what if.
My what if revolves mostly around my chronic headaches. They come unannounced and an attack can last hours.
Most of the time I'm fine. Then sometimes I'm not, and there is no warning and no reason and no way to move it.
But what if it happens the day they'll come for dinner.
But what if traveling triggers it hours before I can get to a room and hide until it passes.
The hardest part is not the pain.
It's that I used to be a person who just said yes.
Big plans or small, I added anything I wanted to the calendar with no second sentence, no but what if.
I'm telling you this because I know a lot of people have their own version of this.
Something that quietly takes away the freedom they wish they had - to make plans, to live, to make the decisions they want, to feel freer in this world.
Something your body does.
Someone who needs you more than they used to.
Something that happened to you once and never fully left.
Something you have stopped explaining to people.
A thing nobody sees when you show up smiling.
And maybe like me, you don't say yours out loud because it sounds like an excuse. And you hate sounding like an excuse.
I know this one. It is not an excuse.
But I also know what happens if we let the second sentence decide.
The calendar would stay empty. The friends would stay unseen. The trip would never happen. And life would get smaller and smaller.
So this weekend I'm opening the calendar.
I'm booking the flights.
And yes, it feels very unnatural having to force myself into the things I truly want to show up for. And yes, sometimes I'll have to cancel them. Both cost me.
But the version of me that stops planning is a much bigger loss.
If you're looking at a calendar with a second sentence sitting next to every square, pick one. Just one.
I'll be working on my one this weekend.
Shabbat Shalom 💙
Inbal
Living with chronic health challenges often means balancing hope with caution, especially when it affects everyday decisions like socializing or traveling. The author’s reflection on the 'second sentence'—the recurring doubt triggered by illness—resonates with many who silently grapple with invisible conditions. From personal experience, this hesitation can lead to a shrinking world, as missed connections and unmade plans accumulate. One powerful way to navigate this struggle is through intentional choice rather than avoidance. Deciding to schedule that long-awaited dinner or book that flight, even knowing there's a chance things might need to change, is an act of reclaiming autonomy. It transforms the unpredictable nature of illness from a barrier into a motivator to embrace life’s precious moments. The pain and uncertainty may still be present, but the determination to keep living richly offers profound healing. Connecting to community and sharing vulnerabilities around these 'what ifs' also eases the isolation many feel. When others understand that these fears are not mere excuses but genuine concerns, it fosters empathy and support. It can be freeing to vocalize these challenges and find solidarity among friends or support groups. Ultimately, this reflection invites everyone—not just those with chronic illness—to recognize those limiting 'second sentences' in their own lives. Whether fears, doubts, or anxieties, they can quietly erode our willingness to live fully. Embracing a mindset of courage, even imperfectly, allows growth and joy despite obstacles. Each small step taken in the face of 'what if' can expand our calendar, our friendships, and the depth of our experience, making life not smaller, but wonderfully larger.