Exclusive Message: Staying Strong Outside the Stollel

Elisha has graced us with a heartfelt message of how to keep that Stollel flame burning now that we're outside the Stollel's walls...

    I am constantly facing opposition here in Yeshiva about my chassidic
ideas. The difficulty of this opposition is impossible to describe in
words, even if I had the ink of a thousand oil mines.
   One guy has been watching me closely recently with a suspicious eye.
He sees me telling people about the Underground Chassidic Movement.
He's seen the secret hand signal which spells a "U," and then a "C"
which stands for "Underground Chassidim." I even once told him the
whole plan hoping to share with him the beauty of the wellsprings of
Chabad, Breslov, Kook, and Carlebach, but I'm starting to sense that
that was also a backwards step. He's constantly asking me: "So you're
a Chassid? You think you're a Tzaddik?"
   I try to tell him: "Listen, I've been in Olam Hazeh for about 20
years now, and I just haven't seen such sweet teachings before in my
life. Every time I'm feeling down and lost, I just open a book about
Reb Noson (Rebbe Nachman's main student), or I play a Carlebach song,
or story, and soon enough, I'm back on the right track."
   But his aim, I feel, isn't for truth, it's to degrade. As if I've
just spoken Japanese, he repeats: "So you think you're a tzaddik… I
think I found my answer."
   What can I tell you, Chevra. The hearts of our brothers are very
closed. We're not working fast enough! People are in too much despair
to believe in the teachings of the true tzaddikim, like Reb Shlomo.
   Sometimes it gets really tough being a lone, undercover Chassid,
behind enemy lines. As a matter of fact, just a couple of minutes ago,
I was in my room, thinking about easing up a bit on my Chassidic
devotions, when suddenly, I spotted a bottle of scotch on the table.
There was only a little bit of L'chaim left in there.
     I fondly recalled Josh Weinberg's shiur on L'chaims which he gave in
the Stollel Tamid. And all of a sudden, I was hit with the
realization: why not take the Stollel with me Tamid, Always.
   The same happy state of mind of warmth and care which ran through the
air of the Stollel… I could recreate that atmosphere in my mind, and
try to spread it to other people that weren't zocheh to spend time at
the Stollel. I took a little scotch in my cup, and raised it: "to the
tzaddik, Rebbe Nachman, who gave us precious tips on how to bring
Redemption to ourselves and the world."
   I made a blessing, "…She'Hakol Neiyah Bi'dvaro," and as I was
drinking it, the modern-day misnaged walked into my room.
   "Were you drinking scotch?" He asked.
   "Yeah. Maybe I was." I replied.
   "But that's Binyomin's scotch."
   "Fine."
   "So you stole his scotch? That's Assur."
   "Fine. See I told you I wasn't a tzaddik. I'm just a desperate
criminal at the end of his pitiful road – trying to pull himself out
of darkness through the teachings of Rebbe Nachman."
   "But you stole."
   This time I remained silent.
   "I don't chop [yiddish for "understand"]," he stated. This continued
for a while. Siggghhhhhh. Chevra, all I can say is: take it one day at
a time. L'chayim.