Celebrating Mendek
Today I want to celebrate my incredible father, Mendek Rubin. Last week was the tenth anniversary of his passing, and tomorrow would have been his 98th birthday. When I think of my dad now, what I remember most vividly is his boundless, unbridled joy. Having healed from a painful childhood, inconceivable suffering during the Holocaust, and decades of depression, my father became the happiest person I have ever known, and also the most unselfconscious and free. I am immensely grateful to be his daughter, and to continue to learn essential life lessons from him every day.
Mendek in the 1970s
A highly sensitive person and a brilliant inventor, my father firmly believed that we all come to this earth with an endless capacity for joy, and that because our patterns of psychological suffering are learned, they can be unlearned. With great dedication and persistence, he figured out how to liberate himself from the conditioning and experiences that left him trapped in unrelenting pain, grief and fear. Ultimately, he was able to connect with the infinite light and love of the universe—what he called the “eternal sunshine.” My dad became a heart-centered, optimistic person who embraced everything that brought him delight. He emanated a constant stream of love, and his happiness was transmissible, bringing joy to everyone in his orbit.
Mendek and Myra singing not long before he passed
I’m especially in awe of how my father was able to free himself from his subserviency to society’s limiting norms and expectations. He once wrote, “It wasn’t until I was well into middle age that I finally decided to stop wasting my energy seeking approval from others. Instead, I began to focus my resources on truly loving myself for who I was, moment by moment. As humans, we’re so well trained, that if we don’t watch ourselves, we end up doing what everyone else thinks is proper instead of what fulfills us. That’s how our ego feels most comfortable.”
Identifying that his ego cared more about what others thought about his performance than it did about how much he was enjoying the experience, my father made a list of the patterns he exhibited when his ego was in charge. This included being bound to routine and convention, comparing himself to others, worrying about his image and reputation, repressing and denying his feelings, and desiring things he didn’t really need, “such as compliments and being right.”
Mendek enjoying his first grandchild, Marea, 1990
The second list he made was about how he lived when his ego wasn’t given all the authority. This included not being intimidated by his fears, daring to be different, knowing that life isn’t about winning, being flexible and willing to change his ideas, and giving up his ego’s ideas about what happiness and love are all about.
My father also became aware of the power shame had over his life—the pain it caused and how it extinguished his inner freedom. Refusing to stay obedient to his ancient negative script, he made the unshakable decision to fully embrace his inner child—the part of him that was curious, silly, playful, jubilant, unselfconscious and full of awe.
Mendek’s art
Just for the joy of it, my father started painting and dabbling in photography. He created books of his positive affirmations and spiritual revelations. My dad loved both music and dancing. Although he never mastered an instrument, he bought all sorts of drums and an accordion, experimenting with different rhythms and sounds.
One notable example of my father’s free spirit traces back to the late 70s, when he was my age, in his late 50s. Discos were all the rage in New York back then, and he used to go to the one closest to our house right when it opened—a very “uncool” time, a couple of hours before other people began to arrive. My dad would take to the huge dance floor all by himself, ecstatically dancing under the strobe lights and disco balls with total abandon. A few times, he cajoled my mother, sister and me to join him. I was a teenager at the time, much too self-conscious to have fun because I found it all terribly embarrassing. How I would enjoy accompanying him now! I am in awe of my dad for following his heart no matter what others thought.
Mendek’s art
With my father as my role model, I’m increasingly aware of the many ways my ego and shame limit me. I’m trying to follow his example of living more from the inside out—honoring my truth and prioritizing what truly brings me joy instead of looking out to world to determine what I should be feeling, wanting or doing.
My father once wrote that when his time came, he wanted to be able to look back at his life and feel it was a job well done. I, too, want to feel that way. My dad has shown me that when it comes to life, a “job well done” is much less about building a resume that impresses, and much more about finding peace, embracing joy, being kind, sharing love, and honoring our true authentic selves.
I want to end by sharing a poem from Yung Pueblo’s newest book Lighter. The first time I read it, it felt as if it was written about my father. I circled it with a big heart and wrote the word “dad.” Sharing it today feels like a perfect way to honor such a remarkable man.
People who have experienced deep suffering
And are still gentle with others
Do not get enough credit
To not let the hard things
That happened to you win is heroic work,
To drop the bitterness
And still live with an open heart
Despite it all
Is a massive gift to the world
