A few years ago, a very well-meaning aunt sent the following segulah to my mother: On Motzoei Shabbos, one should wash for melava malka, tell a story of the Baal Shem Tov (which was included) and bentch without talking about anything else. One should follow this sequence for six consecutive weeks and will (iy”H) meet their zivug in short order.
I’ve never actually done it. Maybe it’s foolish pride holding me back and I should just go through with it, but I never have. It’s not as if I haven’t done other things that defy logic in pursuit of my shidduch. Admittedly, I feel resistance towards this particular segulah through no fault of its own. My aunt loves me and my sister (and we love her), but her children never struggled in shidduchim and I don’t think she can really relate to the idea that this is a process for some people. To her, I think it makes sense to turn to a prescriptive remedy for the situation, like there’s been a technical glitch and what we really need to do is shove the jammed-up button a little harder, that’s all.
But really, it’s not her, it’s me. I can’t get comfortable with the idea that Hashem is waiting for me to read stories of the Baal Shem Tov over grilled cheese sandwiches so He can send me my zivug. With all due respect to the Baal Shem Tov.
I understand that segulos fall on a continuum from woo-woo to reputable, and that many do have a mesorah. I also know that many people perform (administer? partake of?) segulos and report having an uplifting experience, experiencing a shift in their mazel and receiving their yeshua thereafter. And I don’t disbelieve them. I just don’t believe that can possibly be the whole story. I think the whole story has lots and lots of fine print, something like, “I paid for an orphan’s wedding [and worked on myself and did chesed and davened and cried for eight years] and merited to see a yeshua.”
That’s not to say that I’m against segulos in general. I do think that if segulos help you daven and believe, they may have their place in your spiritual hishtadlus.
I have a beautiful memory involving the segulah of drinking from sheva brachos wine. At one of my friends’ weddings a few years ago, another friend and I went back to the chuppah room towards the end of the wedding. The room was empty save for us. On a table next to the chuppah was a glass of white wine, the glass the chosson and kallah had had under the chuppah. We looked at each other, and then we took turns drinking from the wine. And we stood under the chuppah and davened. No, we didn’t get married right after (although my friend is married now). But it was a precious and meaningful experience.
My personal segulah record is rich and colorful. I have participated in numerous rounds of forty days of Tehillim in a group, and have coordinated these groups many times. I said Shir Hashirim with a group of forty women on Friday night for over two years. I said Ketores and Tehillim HaChida for forty days. Wore kallahs’ jewelry at the chuppah, including my baby sister‘s. Sipped from countless sheva brachos cups. Sponsored a Yad Eliezer wedding and gave to hachnosas kallah. Sponsored Yeshivas Mordechai Hatzadik. Learned two halachos a day of shmiras haloshon. Bought dishes for my future home. Did shiluach hakan. Said the whole Sefer Tehillim on Purim night, Tu B’Av, Shavuos, Hoshana Rabba. Davened at Amuka. Opened the door for Shefoch Chamoscha. Said Shiras Hayam at chatzos on shvi’i shel Pesach. Davened for people who need shidduchim. For people waiting for children. (Yes, not all of these are quite the same as the others.)
I pride myself on being the poster child for “it doesn’t depend on segulos.” Also for “I ain’t giving up so fast.”
Some segulos were attempted from a state of calm curiosity. Others were driven by urgency or even desperation. But, paradoxically, the older I get, the more I feel the former as opposed to the latter.
It hurts me that anyone would believe the only purpose their struggle serves is to get them on a plane to Kerestir, Mechelstadt, or Lizhensk (and believe me, I long to get on a plane and daven at every one of those places). How can it be that the struggle is all a big mistake and it’ll be over when we finally hit on the right fix? I think that “segulah culture” promotes the message that the inner journey is just a sidebar, or, more dangerously, that there is no journey.
I might try other segulos in the future. I think they’re kind of interesting and potentially helpful in getting me into an optimistic, receptive headspace. But that’s all. They’re not getting pride of place in this story.
What about you? What are your thoughts, opinions, and experiences with segulos?
