The Essential Theme of Humility in the High Holidays The Bent Shofar: A Symbol of Humility On Rosh Hashanah , we blow the Shofar . The Halacha emphasizes the importance of a bent Shofar. Even if we have a choice between a bent Shofar from a goat and a straight one from a ram ( Ayil ), we choose the bent one. Furthermore, if the choice is between a straight Shofar with a great sound and a bent one with a lesser sound, the bent Shofar is still preferred. Why? The Mishnah Berurah explains that the essential requirement is for the Shofar to be bent, as the Gemara states. The bent shape symbolizes humility ( Anavah ). Rosh Hashanah is a day for humbling ourselves before God, and this principle of "bending" carries through the entire High Holiday period. Ne'ilah and the Essence of Awe This concept of humility extends directly to Yom Kippur , specifically during the concluding Ne'ilah prayer. The Gemara teaches that the core of the Ne'ilah service lies in the words: "Mah anachnu, mah chayeinu, mah kocheinu, mah gevurateinu" — "What are we? What is our life? What is our strength? What is our power?" We are declaring that we are nothing on our own. Why is this fundamental declaration of powerlessness so central to both Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur? The Desire to Be the Boss: The Original Sin The answer goes back to the Original Sin . The Serpent ( Nachash ) told Adam and Eve, "The reason God commanded you not to eat from that tree is because He ate from it and it made Him a boss. He doesn't want you to be a boss, too." We bought into the lie and ate. This event reveals a fundamental human flaw: a person's deep-seated desire to be in charge , to be the boss, and to reject the authority of anyone else. The "Curse" as a Correction ( Tikun ) To fix this innate arrogance, God instituted what is commonly called a "curse," but which the Nefesh HaChaim interprets as a correction ( Tikun ). God told man, "B'zeat apecha tochal lechem"—"By the sweat of your brow you will eat bread." And to the woman, "B'etzev teldi banim"—"In pain you will give birth to children." Why these two specific things? Because when is a person closest to feeling like a creator? When a man plants a seed in the ground and out comes a tree. When a woman conceives a seed in her womb and out comes a baby. In these moments, one is most likely to exclaim, " I'm the boss! Look what I just did! " God's wisdom ensures that precisely in these areas—your business and your family—where you feel most in control, a curveball will appear: a setback in your work or a difficulty in raising your children. The purpose ( Tachlit ) is to force us to cry out to God and declare, "I realize I'm not in charge; You are in charge." This is the meaning of the Tikun —the correction. The entire season of the High Holidays, symbolized by the bent Shofar , is designed to help us internalize this essential truth of humility and dependence on God.
Shabbat Shuvah A close connection exists between the observance of Shabbat and the experience of teshuvah . This connection can be discerned already in the word שבת , which relates to the verb שוב , the root of the word תשובה . This connection also emerges from the following story told in the Midrash ( Vayikra Rabbah 10:5) about a meeting that took place between Kayin, after he repented for his sin, and his father, Adam: כיון שיצא פגע בו אדם הראשון אמר לו מה נעשה בדינך אמר לו עשיתי תשובה ונתפשרתי כיון ששמע אדם הראשון כך התחיל טופח על פניו אמר לו כל כך היא כחה של תשובה ולא הייתי יודע באותה שעה אמר אדם הראשון מזמור שיר ליום השבת. Adam asked Kayin what happened to him as a result of his sin, and Kayin replied that he repented and was thus given a light sentence. At that moment, the Midrash tells, Adam began slapping himself in frustration. "If I had realized that teshuvah was so powerful," he cried, "I would have performed teshuvah after my sin!" The Midrash concludes that Adam then proceeded to compose the Psalm of מזמור שיר ליום השבת , the special song for Shabbat. This clearly indicates that Shabbat somehow closely relates to the concept of teshuvah . Another indication to this effect can be found in a Midrashic passage cited by the Orchot Tzadikim( Shaar haTeshuvah) . The Midrash tells that when Moshe ascended to the heavens to receive the Torah, he found angels with a Sefer Torah open in each of the seven levels of heaven. At each level, the angels were learning about the corresponding day of creation: the angels at the first level were learning about the first day of creation, at the second level they were learning about the second day, and so on, until the seventh level, where the angels learned about Shabbat. Additionally, the angels at each level were discussing and praising G-d for a certain concept. At the first level, they spoke about the Torah; on the second, the Torah and the Jewish People; on the third, the city of Jerusalem; the fourth, Moshiach ; the fifth, the suffering of Gehinom ; on the sixth level, they spoke of Gan Eden and prayed that G-d grant the Jewish People a portion in Gan Eden . On the seventh level, which corresponds to Shabbat, Moshe Rabbenu held onto the Throne of Glory, which is situated on that level, and he saw all kinds of angels assembled discussing teshuvah . They praised the power of teshuvah , which reaches all the way to the Throne of Glory, as alluded to in the pasuk , שובה ישראל עד ה' אלקיך . This, too, points to a close connection between Shabbat and teshuvah . The seventh level of the heavens, which is situated near the Throne of Glory, corresponds to Shabbat, because Shabbat is associated with teshuvah , which rises directly to the Throne. The basis of this connection is the concept of return. Rav Wolbe noted that teshuvah does not actually mean "repentance," but rather "return." Teshuvah is about returning to Hashem, and Shabbat is the time when all of creation returns to its source. The concept of the seven different layers of the heaven is discussed by the Gemara, in Masechet Chagigah(12b). The Gemara there gives the names of these seven layers – וילון, רקיע, שחקים, זבול, מעון, מכון, ערבות . At the seventh level, the Gemara describes, there is "righteous, justice and charity," as well as "treasuries of life, treasuries of peace, and treasuries of blessing." (This, too, is connected to Shabbat, as it is the מקור הברכה – the source of all blessing – and thus G-d's "treasuries of blessing" are found on the seventh level of the heaven, which corresponds to Shabbat.) This level also contains the souls of the righteous, the souls of those who have not yet been born, and the טל תחיה – the dew with which G-d will one day resurrect the dead. Our Rabbis explain that the Gemara refers here not only to the literal resurrection, when the deceased will actually come back to life, but also the figurative "resurrection" – namely, teshuvah . A sinner is considered spiritually "dead," and the process of teshuvah enables him to regain his "life." The "dew" which enables us to "resurrect" ourselves after sin is found there, in the seventh level of the heaven, the level of Shabbat, because on Shabbat we are given the unique ability to grow and negate the harmful effects of sin. This unique power is given to us every Shabbat, but especially on Shabbat Shuvah, when Hashem calls to us, שובה עד ה' אלקיך – to return to Him, promising that our repentance will go straight to His Throne in the highest levels of the heavens. Shabbat Shuvah is so significant that the Tur ( Orach Chaim 612) records an opinion among the poskim permitting the recitation of Selichot on this Shabbat, despite the fact that Selichot is normally forbidden on Shabbat as it is inconsonant with the festive spirit of the day. The Bais Yosef explains that according to this view, the period of the Aseret Ymei Teshuvah is a time of danger, as we are being judged, and this unique situation allows us to recite Selichot and beseech Hashem for forgiveness. Although we do not follow this opinion, it demonstrates the special status of this Shabbat and how this is a most propitious time for teshuvah . Let us, then, take advantage of the unique opportunity offered by this special Shabbat, and thereby ensure that our teshuvah and efforts to grow and draw closer to Hashem will rise directly to His Throne, so we will be worthy of His kindness and grace throughout the coming year, אמן .
Welcome to a special edition in honor of Tzom Gedaliah ( צוםגדליה ), the Fast of Gedaliah. This day is a potent reminder of a tragedy that occurred following the destruction of the First Temple. Today, we commemorate the assassination of the righteous leader, Gedaliah ben Ahikam ( גדליהבןאחיקם ). His death was the final blow to the remaining Jewish community in the Land of Israel ( ארץישראל ), forcing them into exile and marking the end of the last vestiges of Jewish life there. The Dangers of Habit: Lessons from Gedaliah In his book on the Days of Awe ( ימיםנוראים ), Rabbi Nosson Wachtfogel brings forth a powerful concept: Rosh Hashanah ( ראשהשנה ) is not just about shedding bad habits; it's about renewing ourselves, even in our good deeds. The greatest pitfall, he argues, is continuing a positive behavior simply out of habit. This, Rabbi Wachtfogel explains, was Gedaliah's tragic mistake. He was warned of a plot to assassinate him but dismissed the warning, relying on his ingrained practice of never accepting slander ( לשוןהרע ). He failed to re-evaluate the situation and realize that this specific instance of gossip ( רכילות ) was permitted for a greater, life-saving reason. This rigid adherence to a pre-existing, even positive, behavior—without re-analysis—led to his death and the further exile of the Jewish people. This teaches us a crucial lesson: Don't remain stuck in old habits. Habit is the opposite of the essence of Rosh Hashanah, which demands we become a new creation ( בריהחדשה ). When Routine Becomes Rote This idea is beautifully illustrated by a story about the Satmar Rebbe, Rabbi Yoel Teitelbaum. At a Chasidic wedding, a gifted jester ( בדחן ) who was known for his imitations asked the Rebbe for permission to mimic him. The Rebbe, with a smile, granted the request. The jester then proceeded to impersonate the Rebbe's unique way of shaking the lulav and etrog ( לולבואתרוג ). Everyone laughed, but in the middle of the performance, the Rebbe burst into tears. The jester's face turned pale as he rushed over to beg forgiveness, terrified that he had caused offense. "No, no," the Rebbe assured him. "You did nothing wrong." "Then why are you crying?" the jester asked. "I said to myself," the Rebbe explained, "'If you can copy the Satmar Rebbe, well, maybe I'm just copying the Satmar Rebbe, too.'" The Rebbe feared that his own prayer movements, once filled with sincere intention, had become nothing more than a mechanical imitation of the way he had prayed in his youth—a rote performance rather than an act of genuine connection. This is the danger of מצוותאנשיםמלומדה , or doing mitzvot by rote. Breaking Free of the Elephant's Rope Another powerful story highlights this point. A man once observed a group of huge circus elephants restrained only by a small rope tied to their front legs. Puzzled, he asked the trainer how it was possible that such powerful creatures didn't break free. The trainer explained, "When the elephants are small, we tie them with these same ropes, which are strong enough to hold them at that age. As they grow, they are conditioned to believe the rope can still hold them back. They never even try to break free." We, too, must break free from our "elephant rope." We may be conditioned to act a certain way, but we must constantly reassess our actions and not get stuck in the mindset of "that's just the way I do things." A Call to Action Therefore, as Rabbi Wachtfogel teaches, after Rosh Hashanah, there must be a tangible change in our lives—in our prayers, our learning, and our interactions with others. This requires a profound re-analysis of our daily routines to ensure our actions are driven by genuine renewal, not simply by old habits. A practical takeaway for this day of Tzom Gedaliah is to set aside some time to evaluate your own habits. Which routines are serving you well, and which ones could use improvement? Have a wonderful rest of your day.
An Immigrant in This World Welcome to our special Elul series of Cheshbon HaNefesh (Soul-Searching). We've now completed our 30th reflection, which prompts us to view ourselves as immigrants in this world. This is a celebration of our journey through these 30 spiritual units. Imagine a transient immigrant arriving in a foreign land. He knows no one, and no one knows him. But a compassionate, powerful person takes him in, provides his daily food, and gives him a set of instructions to follow, with clear consequences for disobedience. This guide tells him how to act and that he will eventually leave this land, though the time of departure is unknown. How should this immigrant act? Lessons from the Immigrant Humility: He should be humble, shedding all pride and arrogance. He is a sojourner, not a judge of others, as Lot was told: " One came to sojourn, and he would now judge? " Readiness: He must be ready to leave at a moment's notice and should not become too comfortable. As God says in Vayikra , " The land is Mine, for you are strangers and sojourners with Me. " Understanding the Laws: He must diligently learn the laws and statutes of the land and his obligations. King David expressed this perfectly in Tehillim : " I am a foreigner in the land; do not hide Your commandments from me. " Love for Others: As an immigrant, he should feel a special bond with other foreigners and help them. The Torah commands us, " Love the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt. " Another verse in Vayikra says, " The stranger who sojourns with you shall be to you as the native-born among you, and you shall love him as yourself. " The Ramban suggests that this command, " Love him as yourself, " is even stronger than the general command to love one's neighbor, as we ourselves are immigrants. Clinging to the Guide: He must dedicate himself to the service of the one who is guiding him, as this is the only person who will truly have compassion for him and come to his aid. Like King David, who said, " I looked to my right and I saw that no one was with me; refuge was lost to me; no one cared for my soul. " Unlike the Shunammite woman who felt secure among her own people, we are truly alone but for our Creator. Contentment: He should be content with the minimal necessities provided—food, shelter, and clothing. He should not put excessive effort into accumulating possessions, as he must be ready to travel at any time. The smallest gift should bring him great joy, and he should never stop giving thanks. Tolerance: He should tolerate difficulties and not complain about simple discomforts like a lack of air conditioning, because he is grateful just to be in the country. Our True State My friends, we must accept these conditions of being an alien, because we truly are strangers here. We might think we have friends and allies, but this is an illusion. The proof is how we came into this world. No one was there to help you develop in your mother's womb. No one but God could make your limbs grow and your heart beat. And just as you were alone in the womb, you are alone in this world. No person can truly help you without God. No one can add to your life or take days away from it. As the author asks, " What relationship do you truly have with other people? " You are an immigrant in this world, and you are neither helped by the many nor harmed by the few. You are an isolated individual whose only true ally is your Creator. No one has compassion for you but Him. There may be many distractions in the world, but ultimately there is only one force to focus on. Therefore, dedicate yourself to His service, just as He dedicates Himself to creating, guiding, and sustaining you in life and in death. Keep His Torah before your eyes, hope for His reward, and fear His punishment. By accepting your alien state in this world, you will truly enjoy the delights of the world to come. This powerful message is especially fitting for Erev Rosh Hashanah , as this is what the day is all about—our special one-on-one connection with God. As God says, " I am the Lord, your God " in the singular. We must deal with Him directly, for no one else can truly affect us. This is our final reflection.
The Value of the Soul Over the Body Welcome to the Chovot HaLevavot series. We are on Cheshbon 29 , a deep introspection that prompts us to consider the value of our soul over our body. This idea helps us understand why some people hold more weight than others, not in a physical sense, but in their spiritual and moral worth. The Gemara says that a certain person is as valuable as a thousand people. For instance, Moshe Rabbeinu was considered to be worth 600,000 people. This wasn't because he was physically strong, but because of his immense spiritual stature. The Chovot HaLevavot author proves this point by quoting a verse from Shmuel II , chapter 18, verse 3. When King David was going to war, his people insisted he stay behind, saying, " You are worth ten thousand of us ." Targum Yonatan explains this was because David would pray for them. This shows that King David's true value was in his spiritual strength, not his physical might. The Importance of Inner Beauty The same principle applies to a beautiful woman. Her true quality isn't just her physical beauty. If a person is physically beautiful but lacks intellect or has poor character traits, they ultimately aren't attractive. The author quotes a verse from Mishlei (Proverbs): " A gold ring in a swine's snout is a beautiful woman who lacks discretion. " This verse, "Isha yafah v'sarat ta'am," means her beauty is worthless because she is "missing her flavor"—her proper character traits and actions. Another verse from Mishlei, "Sheker ha-chein v'hevel ha-yofi," teaches that charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting. Physical beauty, which is tied to the body, only has true value when it is accompanied by a beautiful soul. Once we realize this, we understand that our true value is our spiritual worth. You Are Not Your Body To illustrate this point, consider the story of actor Christopher Reeve, who played Superman. After a horse-riding accident left him paralyzed, he fell into a deep depression. For a year, he withdrew from the public eye. When he finally re-emerged, he was asked what gave him the strength to do so. His answer was profound: " I realized I'm not my body. " This is a powerful statement we should all internalize. Our true qualities are spiritual. When we understand this, we realize the importance of prioritizing our soul over our body. When God looks at us, He sees the merits and blemishes of our souls. He looks at our midot tovot (good character traits), and our choices to follow either our good or evil inclinations. What makes us special is what's inside, not what's outside. A Spiritual Spa As we prepare for the High Holidays, our focus must be on our spiritual well-being. Rabbi Yerucham Levovitz once said, " Elul is a spa. " The month of Elul and especially the Aseret Yemei Teshuvah (Ten Days of Repentance) are like going to a spa. Just as a physical spa uses massages, salts, and minerals to make the body stronger and healthier, these 40 days are a spiritual spa. They give us the ability to enhance and improve everything about ourselves. We must tend to our soul more than our body, knowing that it is easier to cure our body from a grave disease than to heal our soul from the sickness of sin and the yetzer hara (evil inclination). Another verse from Mishlei, "Ru'ach ish y'chalkeil machaleihu, v'ru'ach n'ka'ah mi yisa'ena," translates to: " A person's spirit can endure a physical ailment, but who can bear a crushed spirit? " This teaches us that a spiritual ailment is far more difficult to bear than a physical one. This is why another verse in Mishlei says, "Mi-kol mishmar, netzor libecha," —" Guard your heart above all else. " We put fences, gates, and security around our homes, our money, and other valuables. But the most precious commodity we have is our heart and spirit. It needs the most guarding and protection of all.
What Happens When Trust Is Tested? This text is a discussion of the 28th cheshbon (reckoning) from Sha'ar Cheshbon HaNefesh (Gate of Introspection), focusing on a high level of bitachon (trust in God) and what happens when that trust is tested. The highest level of bitachon isn't just relying on God to get what you want. It's about complete self-surrender—giving your life, your money, and your children to God, trusting that He knows what's best. The true test of this trust comes when things don't go the way you expected, and God gives you something you didn't bargain for. To explain this, the text uses a parable: imagine a man gives his nephew a house and a field as an outright gift. The nephew then decides to tear down the house and rebuild it. If the uncle returns years later and finds his gift unrecognizable, does he have a right to be upset? Of course not, because he gave it away completely. It's now the nephews to do with as he pleases. Similarly, if we dedicate our soul and our resources to God, we can't complain or mourn when He does something we don't like. We must trust that He knows what's best, even if it doesn't look that way to us. We should not retract our commitment or show expressions of pain and upset, especially since God has been taking care of us all our lives. The text then references several biblical sources to support this idea: Hosea 11:3-4 : God says, "I trained Ephraim, I took them by My arms, but they didn't know that I healed them." This verse highlights that God is often working behind the scenes to help us, and we are not always aware of His care. Rabbenu Yonah in his commentary to Mishlei (Chapter 3) adds some other sources: Psalm 31:6 : We say nightly, "Into Your hands I commit my spirit." This isn't just a bedtime prayer; it's a declaration of trust, asking God to guide our path because He knows what is best for us. Job 2:10 : When Job's wife tells him to curse God, he replies, "Shall we accept good from God, and not accept evil?" This shows that we must accept all that comes from God, both good and bad, as part of His plan. Proverbs 3:12 : "For whom the Lord loves, He rebukes, just as a father rebukes the son whom he favors." This verse teaches that hardships are not punishments but a sign of God's love and a means for our growth, just as a father disciplines a child he loves. This introspection reminds us that even when life doesn't go as planned, our trust in God should remain unshaken. He is always working for our benefit, even when we don't understand it.
Two Ways to Tolerate Suffering The Chovot HaLevavot emphasizes that there are two ways to endure suffering ( sevel ). The first is to accept the "load" God has given you willingly and with a good heart. This is the positive approach. The second is to carry it against your will, with complaints and anger. The Chovot HaLevavot contrasts these two approaches using two verses from the book of Yeshiah: The positive way: "I am waiting for God, who is hiding His face... and I hope for Him." This verse describes a person who knows God is present, even when He seems hidden, and they remain hopeful. The negative way: "And when he becomes hungry, he gets angry and curses his king and his God." This verse illustrates a person who reacts to hardship with rage and defiance. Abraham's Example and the Desert Generation To further illustrate the difference, the Chovot HaLevavot uses two examples from Jewish tradition: Abraham: He was praised not for simply enduring his ten trials, but because he accepted them willingly and with a good heart ( beratzon uvetov levav ). The verse "You found his heart faithful before You" highlights his faithful mindset. The Desert Generation: Their sin was not simply that they faced difficulties, but that they were "upset and their heart was not with God and with Moses." The verse "their heart was not honest with Him" shows that their negative reaction was what made them guilty. The Purpose of Challenges The Chovot HaLevavot highlights that there are different types of challenges and their purpose may not always be clear. They can be: Tests: To help you grow and earn a greater reward. The speaker emphasizes that these are not necessarily a punishment for wrongdoing. Punishments: To help you atone for your sins and get back on the right path. We will never know which of these purposes a specific challenge serves. It's important to remember that challenges are not always an indication that you've done something wrong. Regardless of the reason, all of God's ways are either kindness ( chesed ) or truth ( emet ), as stated in Psalms: "All the ways of God are kind and true." They are either meant to increase your reward (kindness) or to help you atone and get back on track (truth). The Importance of Mindset The Chovot HaLevavot concludes with a powerful message: "Do not fail to think about this all the time." By consistently reflecting on the idea that challenges are here to help us grow and find atonement, you can: Strengthen your ability to tolerate hardship. Make it easier to weather life's storms. Show that you accept God's will. This understanding brings comfort, as King David said: "Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me." It also shows faith ( bitachon ), and strengthens the heart of all who hope in God.
The Fear of Punishment and the Fear of God Welcome to the "Heshbon HaNefesh" (Soul Accounting) series. The 26th reflection asks: What happens when a person in authority gives you a command and you're afraid of being punished if you don't listen? The parallel for us today isn't a king, but a police officer, a mayor, or a governor. Think about driving on the highway and seeing a police car with its lights on in your rearview mirror. Your heart drops in fear of getting a ticket, and then you realize the officer is chasing someone else. That moment of relief can be a powerful trigger for self-reflection. This event is a mashal (parable or analogy) for our relationship with God. Why are we so concerned with the arbitrary rules of society—like a speed limit that can change from 35 mph to 25 mph—and so afraid of their consequences, yet we are not equally concerned with God's commandments? The fear of getting a ticket feels immediate and real, but the fear of God's punishment often feels distant. What's the difference? A human authority figure has limitations. They can't always see you and are often distracted. God, on the other hand, is constantly watching. He is never preoccupied or deterred. This realization should lead to a profound question: Why do I not have a similar fear of God? Lessons from Judgment and the High Holidays This is especially relevant as we approach the High Holidays. There is a story about a great rabbi who would visit a court during the month of Elul (leading up to the High Holidays). He would sit and watch people's fear as they were judged, observing how much time and effort they put into their cases. This, for him, was a living mashal for the coming Day of Judgment. Rabbeinu Yonah , in the second gate of his work Shaarei Teshuva , discusses the Aseret Yemei Teshuva (Ten Days of Repentance). He uses the example of a person in a real-life court case to inspire repentance. He writes that an intelligent person should feel a certain shame. Here we are, standing before God, whose decrees are everlasting and who is constantly overseeing our actions, yet we go through life without a fear of God or a fear of punishment, continuing to sin while He watches. The Supernatural Disconnect Rav Yitzchak of Petersburg , a student of Rabbi Yisrael Salanter , offered a profound insight: There is an almost supernatural trait in humans that prevents us from fearing God as we fear people. If we truly grasped that God is all-powerful, ever-present, and could punish us at any moment, our free will might disappear. We would be so terrified that we could never sin. God, in His mercy, created this "disconnect" that allows us to ignore this fear and maintain our freedom of choice. This is the deeper meaning behind the famous story of Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai telling his students on his deathbed, "May you fear God as you fear a human." When they responded, "Is that all?" he replied, "Would that it were! Fearing a human is a great thing." We are able to be ashamed of our actions in front of others, but we struggle with the same shame before God. Arrogance and Inattentional Blindness So why do we lack this fear? A verse from Psalms (10:4) may provide an answer: "Due to his arrogance, the wicked one does not seek; all his thoughts are, 'There is no God.'" The verse uses the term " bal yidrosh " ("he does not seek"), which is particularly striking when we remember that the Ten Days of Repentance are called "Drashu Hashem Behimatzo" ("Seek God when He is to be found"). The wicked person's arrogance blocks them from seeking God. This is also supported by another verse: "Your heart will become arrogant, and you will forget." Arrogance causes us to forget God. This concept can be understood through "inattentional blindness," a psychological phenomenon where a person fails to notice a fully visible, unexpected object because their attention is focused on something else. We are so focused on our own affairs and our own ego that we fail to see God's presence in the world. Our arrogance creates an interference. It's not just inattention; it's an attentional blindness driven by our desire to see ourselves, not God. Like a clinician who is so hyper-focused on looking for one specific thing on an X-ray that they miss something else, we become so focused on our own lives that we don't see God unless we actively look for Him. Arrogance causes us to not want to see Him. That's why we fear the police officer but not God—our arrogance gets in the way. This leads to the crucial first step of Rosh Hashanah : humility . By humbling ourselves, we can remove the arrogance that blinds us. Only then can we begin to see God and truly turn back to Him.
Welcome to Our Elul Project: The Journey of the Soul Welcome to "Sha'ar Cheshbon HaNefesh," our 30-day Elul project. Today, we're on "cheshbon" number 25. This reflection is for those moments when we realize we're too fixated on this world, giving it more attention than the next one. This is a common human tendency, and as the text says, we have to actively work on strengthening our love for the world to come. How do we do this? By comparing the two. This world is short-lived, while the next is eternal. The Ba'alei Mussar (scholars of ethical teachings) offer a powerful "mashal" (parable) to help us grasp the concept of eternity. Imagine a stadium completely filled with sand. Once every 100 years, a single bird comes and removes just one grain. The time it would take for the entire stadium to be emptied is still not eternity. This helps us understand that forever is a concept our minds can't fully grasp. The Two Worlds: A Painful Conflict Chovot HaLevavot teaches that just as you can't have fire and water in the same pot; similarly, you can't have love for this world and the next world in your heart at the same time. While we all have earthly interests, the key is determining which is the dominant force. The text compares the two worlds to a man with two wives. The Hebrew word for a second wife, "tzarah," literally means "pain" because they're in a painful rivalry for their husband's attention. In this parable, we are the husband, and both worlds are vying for our focus. The Talmud reinforces this idea with a similar story. Two students were learning from their rabbi: one wanted to study Mussar (ethical teachings) and the other Gemara (Talmudic law). The rabbi couldn't satisfy both. He shared a parable about a man in his 40s with both black and white hair, who was married to a young wife and an old wife. The young wife would pluck out his white hairs to make him look younger, while the old wife would pluck out his black hairs to make him look older. In the end, he was left with no hair at all. This illustrates that we can't please both worlds; we must choose one as our primary focus. Caring for Both Body and Soul The text explains that we have both a body and a soul, and both require proper care. To strengthen the soul, we need Mussar (ethical teachings), wisdom, and self-control. To strengthen the body, we need food, drink, and proper health care. While we can't completely ignore either, one must be in charge. We should prioritize the soul, which is everlasting, over the short-lived body. A person who focuses too much on their body will ultimately weaken both their body and soul. We can draw some parallels between the two: Your body needs three meals a day, and your soul needs three prayers a day ( Shacharit, Mincha, and Ma'ariv ). Your body has physical health; your soul has spiritual health. Your body has 248 organs and 365 sinews, and your soul has 248 positive commandments and 365 negative commandments. Rabbi Wolbe used to say that he made a point to spread out his "meals" of prayer throughout the day, praying Shacharit in the morning, Mincha in the early afternoon, and Ma'ariv in the evening. This ensures that the soul receives consistent nourishment, just as the body does with regular meals. The Middle Path and Your Yearly Check-Up A verse from Kohelet cautions us against extremes: "Don't be overly righteous or overly wise, why destroy yourself? Don't be overly wicked or a fool, why die ahead of your time?" This means we must avoid either extreme, finding a balance where our main focus is the soul, but we also care for the body so it can be a healthy vessel for the soul. The text clarifies that "dying ahead of your time" doesn't mean a physical death, but rather the death of one's soul, which can be drowned in a sea of desire. The phrase "hold on to your destiny" means to stay connected to your spiritual purpose, but "do not detach yourself from this world." We need this world to reach the next one. As the saying goes, "This world is a vestibule to the world to come." We prepare ourselves in this world for the ultimate palace. Rabbi Miller taught that a key to greatness is to spend at least 60 seconds a day thinking about the world to come. This is especially relevant during the High Holidays. Our sages teach us that on Rosh Hashanah , the righteous are sealed for life, the wicked for death, and those in the middle have until Yom Kippur. Tosafot clarifies that this "life and death" doesn't refer to physical existence, but rather our spiritual life in the world to come. Every year, we are judged on the spiritual health of our souls, based on the Torah, mitzvot (commandments), and chesed (kindness) we've performed. The High Holidays are our "yearly spiritual physical." We use this time to get our spiritual lives in shape, just as we work out to improve our physical health. Through these "cheshbonot," or spiritual reckonings, we are performing a 30-point physical to ensure everything is in proper order, securing a more meaningful destiny in the world to come. What's one small step you can take today to focus more on your soul?
Heshbon 24: Re-enlightening Our Learning Welcome to the 24th lesson in our Heshbon HaNefesh (Accounting of the Soul) series. Today's lesson is a continuation of our previous one, but instead of focusing on the physical world, we turn our curious minds inward to the realm of Torah knowledge. This lesson is about re-examining the spiritual concepts we have known since childhood—the stories of the Torah , the words of our Sages, and the liturgy of our prayers. When we are young, we learn these things on a simple, foundational level. As we grow older, our intellectual capacity to understand them deepens, but a new challenge arises: complacency. We become so familiar with these concepts that we stop looking for more. Do you truly understand the stories of the Avot or Adam and Chava in their full depth? We must not be satisfied with the understanding we gained in our youth. Instead, we should approach the Torah and the words of the prophets as if we are reading them for the very first time. Probe the words, analyze the concepts, and seek out their deeper meanings. The Dangers of Arrogance and the Power of Humility The same is true for our prayers. Many of us say our daily prayers without a full understanding of the words. It is crucial to get a Hebrew-English Siddur (prayer book) and strive to understand what you are saying. Don't settle for the level of comprehension you had as a child. Chovot HaLevavot offers a critical piece of advice: "Do not let your arrogance seduce you" ( Al Tasi'acha HaGaavah ). Arrogance is the main obstacle to deeper understanding. It makes us think, "I know this story already; there's nothing new here." We are often too proud to admit that we have been looking at things superficially for years. It's difficult to acknowledge a gap in our knowledge and say, "Wow, I never heard that before. I didn't know that!" For example, a person might hear that Pinchas was not a Kohen when he killed Zimri and only became one afterward. The first reaction might be, "That can't be! No one ever told me that." It is hard to admit such ignorance. But this arrogance is the work of the Yetzer HaRa (Evil Inclination), which tries to prevent us from delving deeper, making us believe we are already full-fledged sages. The Wise Man and the Fool The Book of Proverbs says, "Do you see a person wise in his own eyes? There is more hope for a fool than for him." In contrast, "The wise man's eyes are in his head." What does this mean? It means the wise person constantly re-evaluates and strengthens his old ideas. A fool, on the other hand, is like a person traveling a long road in the dark who never looks back. The verse says, "The fool walks in darkness." King Solomon says, "I saw that wisdom is better than folly, as light is better than darkness." The fool walks in darkness, and the only way to turn the lights back on is by delving into the words of Torah , by analyzing them. This is why we pray every day, "Enlighten our eyes in Your Torah ." ( V'Ha'er Eineinu B'Toratecha ). This enlightenment doesn't happen by rote repetition. It happens by pushing ourselves to understand, by breaking away from our preconceived notions, and by allowing the light of Torah to truly illuminate our souls. This is our Heshbon .
Heshbon 23: The Curious Mind Welcome to the 23rd lesson in our special Elul series. Today's heshbon , or accounting, focuses on how we view the world, cultivating what we'll call a "curious mind" or a "learner's approach." This concept is rooted in Shaar HaBechinah , the "Gate of Probing." Bechinah means to examine, to test, to constantly feel and probe everything around you. It's about looking for and trying to understand the smallest creations as well as the largest—from inanimate objects to human beings, from the sun and moon to the wind and rain, from a newborn baby to all the wonders of nature. Each of these creations reveals God's perfect wisdom, His power, His supervision, and His profound mercy over all that exists. Overcoming Apathy: The Constant Miracle So why don't we do this? Chovot HaLevavot warns us not to be seduced by the familiar. We are so used to seeing these things that we lose our sense of awe. The "wow" effect is gone. We may be amazed by something we've never seen before, like a solar eclipse, but we fail to see the daily miracle of the sun and moon, the constant rain, or the regular wind. As the Chazon Ish once said, the only difference between a miracle and nature is that nature is a constant miracle. We don't get amazed by what is constant. We are excited by a strange animal at the zoo but not by the familiar trees on our street. We would be amazed if manna fell from the heavens today, but we are apathetic to the equally miraculous fact that wheat grows from the ground, providing us with bread. The only difference is that one we're used to, and one we're not. The problem is that we got used to these miracles when we were young, before our intellect was fully developed. As we've gotten older, our familiarity has led us to stop thinking, looking, and wondering. Seeing with New Eyes The goal is to look at the world as if you've never seen it before. Try this exercise: on Rosh Hashanah morning, open your eyes and look at the world like a Martian who has just landed. Look at a tree and ask: "What is this hard, wooden thing growing out of the soft dirt? How does it grow? How do the leaves come out of it?" We walk past trees every day, but by looking at them with a child's curiosity, we rediscover their wondrous nature. Chovot HaLevavot suggests that in a sense, we are all "blind" until we open our "mind's eye." The fool, he says, is like the blind person. When he begins to open his mind's eye, he becomes a seeing person. This is what happened when Adam and Eve ate from the Tree of Knowledge. The verse says, "Their eyes were opened" ( Va'Tifkachena Einei Sh'neihem ). They were not physically blind beforehand; rather, they gained intellectual understanding. This idea of a "mind's eye" is also reflected in the Four Species of Sukkot. The three myrtle branches ( hadasim ) represent our eyes. We have two physical eyes, but a third one is for our mind—for our curiosity. This "third eye" also needs to be perfected. Lift Your Eyes to the Heavens Don't ignore this essential part of your soul. Do not continue on the same path you've been on until now. Start opening your eyes. A sage once said, "The heart of the wise has eyes," meaning they see what fools do not. The prophet Isaiah cries out, "Have you not known? Have you not heard? Has it not been told to you from the beginning?" He then implores us, "Lift up your eyes on high and see! Who created these?" ( S'u Marom Eineichem U'Reu Mi Bara Eileh ). God brings out the stars by number, calling each by name, "because of His great might and strong power." This is our job: to lift our eyes to the heavens and to all of creation. Interestingly, the first Hebrew letters of S'u Marom Eineichem spell Shema ( Shin , Mem , Ayin ). Before we say the Shema prayer, we are meant to appreciate the very things God created, as mentioned in the blessing of Yotzer HaMe'orot (Who creates the luminaries). It's all there for us to see. Our job is to be curious and to keep our youthful sense of wonder alive.
Uniting for a Shared Burden: An Elul Reflection on Human Interaction Welcome to our special Elul series, a journey through the principles of Shaar HaCheshbon HaNefesh (Gate of the Accounting of the Soul). In this 22nd lesson, we focus on how to approach our interactions with others, whether it's in business, community, or daily life. The core principle to embody is "Love your friend like yourself" ( V'ahavta L're'acha Kamocha ). This means you should desire for others what you desire for yourself, and feel aversion for them regarding what you would not want for yourself. Treat everyone with compassion and mercy, and strive to ensure their well-being. This concept, though applicable year-round, is especially crucial as we prepare for Rosh Hashanah, a time when we stand together as one unit to accept God as our King. The Parable of the Travelers Imagine a small group of people traveling to a distant country. The path is steep and difficult, requiring them to spend many nights camping together. Each person has a heavy load, and they must constantly load and unload their animals on their own. If they were to work together, helping one another with the burdens and easing the overall effort, they would surely succeed. But if they are incompatible, unable to agree on a shared plan, and each person only looks out for their own interests, they will all become exhausted. This is a parable for the world we live in today. He states, "The world bears down on its inhabitants" ( Kaved HaOlam Al Yoshvav ). Why is so much effort required? Because everyone focuses on their own portion, wanting more than their due. When people demand what is not theirs, they end up losing even what is rightfully theirs. Think of it like traffic gridlock. If every driver only cared about themselves, trying to squeeze ahead and run a red light, the entire flow of traffic would stop. Nobody would get to their destination smoothly. This is a metaphor for life. Life is a constant gridlock because people lack patience and concern for others. This is why we are so often dissatisfied and complain—we demand too much from the world, and in turn, the world withholds even our essential needs, forcing us to overexert ourselves. The Benefits of a Collective Mindset If people were satisfied with what they have and worked to improve their own well-being alongside everyone else's, they would "conquer their world" ( Hayu Menatzchim Olamam ) and "get even more than they want out of it" ( U'Magi'im El Yoter MiChaftzam Bo ). Instead, not only do people fail to help one another, they often hinder each other, diluting everyone's abilities and preventing anyone from getting what they truly need. This is further illustrated by a parable found in the Siddur HaGra (Prayer Book of the Vilna Gaon): Imagine a town that catches fire. In those days, everyone would run with pails of water to put out the blaze. But what did those who lacked concern for the common good do? They would pour their water directly on their own storefronts. This might stop the fire from spreading to their property, but the fire would still rage and burn down many other buildings. If everyone had gone with their pails to the source of the fire and worked together, the fire would have been extinguished entirely. This is the lesson for Rosh Hashanah and for every day of the year. We must be concerned with God's kingdom, the success of the Jewish people as a whole, and our collective service to God. If we stop looking at our own "storefronts" and instead unite our prayers and energy at the source of the fire—the spiritual "fire" of the world's brokenness—then redemption will come. The Power of Empathy and Good Counsel Therefore, strive to live your life in a way that reflects this mindset. Seek out loyal friends and interact with them in an honest and wholehearted manner. The Book of Proverbs states, "Oil and incense gladden the heart; so does the sweetness of a friend's heartfelt counsel." ( Shemen U'Ktoret Yesamach Lev, U'Metek Rei'ehu Mei'Atzat Nafesh ). Giving someone good counsel is more valuable than any physical gift or comfort. Focus on the betterment of your family, your community, and the world at large. This may seem like an act of selflessness, but as explained, in the end, it is truly an act of enlightened self-interest , because a world that is whole and harmonious benefits everyone.
Elul Introspection: Breaking Through Spiritual Plateaus Welcome to our special Elul series on C hovot HaLevavot**. In this 21st introspection, we'll explore how to overcome spiritual dead ends—those moments when you feel you can't grow or develop beyond your current level. The path to spiritual growth isn't always a smooth upward climb. Sometimes we hit a plateau, a point where our current efforts seem to yield no further progress. The key is to not give up. Here's a powerful framework for breaking through these barriers. The Power of Sincere Desire and Prayer First, you must sincerely desire to grow. As the author explains, the first step is to "yiksof lo bilvav" —to desire in your heart. Let the next step in your spiritual journey be on your "wish list," constantly on your mind. Next, and most importantly, ask God for help . Pray for the ability to understand and to act. When you consistently ask God for assistance, He will eventually fulfill your needs. He will "open up the gates of understanding" and strengthen you to do what was previously beyond your capacity. This concept is rooted in the verse from Isaiah 48:17 : "I am the Lord your God, who teaches you for your benefit, who leads you on the path you should take." This verse is the source for the famous statement in the Talmud: "On the path a person wants to go, they are led." If you take the initial step, God will guide you, revealing shortcuts and insights you never knew existed. Incremental Effort, Divine Assistance This principle applies not just to spiritual growth but to all areas of life, from crafts to academic study. A teacher of geometry, for example, starts with practical problems before moving to theory. As the student masters the basics and continues to strive, God reveals the deeper theoretical principles to them. This idea is highlighted by the Gemara in Bava Batra 12b which says, "A wise man is greater than a prophet." The author applies this to all wisdom, explaining that there's a level of "prophecy" in every discipline. When you push your abilities to the maximum, God grants you a deeper, intuitive understanding beyond what you learned. This is the essence of our entire spiritual service. The Chovot HaEivarim (external commandments) are meant to awaken the Chovot HaLevavot (internal commandments). Our physical actions have the power to arouse our hearts. The verse in Devarim 30:14 says, "For the matter is very close to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to do it." This means that by doing God's will with our bodies, we will eventually be able to do it with our hearts. Since our natural human desires often create obstacles, it is through our dedicated physical efforts that God opens the gates to spiritual enlightenment. The author uses the analogy of a person planting trees. The farmer's job is to prepare the soil, water the saplings, and fertilize them. He does all he can and then relies on God to bring the fruit. You cannot neglect your responsibilities and expect a miracle. Similarly, in Avodat Hashem (service of God), if you make an earnest effort, God will grant you abilities far beyond your natural capacity. The Ladder of Spiritual Growth This concept also sheds light on the Mishnah in Pirkei Avot 4:9 : "One who fulfills the Torah in poverty will ultimately fulfill it in wealth." While this can mean a person who serves God with limited money will eventually be blessed with wealth, the author offers a deeper interpretation: One who starts with a "poverty of abilities" but makes a sincere effort, will ultimately be given a "wealth of abilities" by God. This is the entire premise of the Mesilat Yesharim's spiritual ladder, which progresses from Torah to Zehirot (diligence), to Zerizut (alacrity), and so on, ultimately reaching the level of prophecy. Each step is a prerequisite for the next, with God providing the help needed to ascend. The key takeaway is clear: God gives us help when we maximize our own abilities. If we ignore what we can do, we cannot expect divine assistance. As Rabbeinu Yonah writes in the beginning of Sha'arei Teshuvah , a person's effort leads to God giving them abilities beyond their natural ones. This is akin to God "circumcising your heart," removing the spiritual impediments that are too difficult for us to remove on our own—but only after we have done everything we can.
Chovot HaLevavot: Introspection on Money Welcome to our introspection series on Chovot HaLevavot (Duties of the Heart). We're now on the 20th introspection, which focuses on your relationship with money. Your bank account is the trigger for this powerful exercise. Look at your balance and ask yourself three key questions: How did you earn this money? How do you plan to spend it? Do you use it to fulfill your obligations to God and to other people? Re-evaluating Ownership The core of this introspection is to challenge our fundamental assumption about money. Do you see it as yours , or do you see it as a deposit that God has entrusted to you? This is a difficult concept to grasp. We tend to view our money as our own, safely in our bank account, a result of our own efforts. But the true perspective is that God is the owner, and we are merely the custodians of what He has placed in our care. He can add to it or remove it as He sees fit. This shift in perspective has profound implications. When you understand that the money isn't truly yours, you're no longer paralyzed by the fear of losing it. A bank teller doesn't worry when a customer withdraws money because they know it was never theirs to begin with. Similarly, you can be grateful to God for as long as the money remains with you, and you can accept any changes to your financial status without despair. This perspective also makes it easier to use your money for good. When you view your money as a divine deposit, giving charity becomes less about sacrificing your own funds and more about returning what was always meant for someone else. Money and Humility The Torah portion in Shemot 22:24 says, "If you lend money to My nation, the poor man who is with you." The simple meaning is that you should help the poor in your community. However, there is a deeper interpretation: "The poor man's money is already with you." This suggests that when you give, you're not giving from your own wealth, but rather distributing what God placed with you for the benefit of the needy. Rabbeinu Yonah discusses this in Sha'arei Teshuvah , explaining that a proper attitude toward money is essential for developing good character. He warns against looking down on those who are less fortunate. He quotes Mishlei 17:5 , which says, "He who mocks the poor taunts his Maker." Someone who looks down on the poor reveals a dangerous arrogance. They believe their success is a result of their own power and wisdom, a perspective described in Devarim 8:17 as "My strength and the might of my hand made me this wealth." This person believes they are self-made and therefore scorns those who failed to achieve similar success. In reality, they are cursing God, the true source of all wealth. As Mishlei 22:2 says, "The rich and the poor meet together; the Lord is the Maker of them all." An individual with a proper understanding of money—viewing it as a deposit from God—will never look down on the poor. This perspective, Chovot HaLevavot concludes, is one of the most powerful causes for cultivating positive character traits and eliminating negative ones. This introspection on money is not just about our finances; it's a vital part of shaping our entire spiritual and ethical being.
Cheshbon HaNefesh: The Power of Gratitude Welcome to the 19th installment of our Cheshbon HaNefesh series for Elul. Today, we're focusing on reciprocating kindness by reflecting on all the ways Hashem has saved us from misfortune, afflictions, and diseases. This is an important cheshbon —an accounting—because we often take our health and well-being for granted, only recognizing blessings when something goes wrong. When you see people suffering from illness, hunger, or other misfortunes, you might feel a pang of guilt. Why them and not me? We are all sinners, after all. Rabbi Matisyahu Salomon, in his commentary on Chovot HaLevavot , points out that a major deficiency in our service to God is our lack of gratitude and praise. We don't thank Him enough, and we fail to repent when we should. And yet, despite our shortcomings, Hashem continues to bless us with kindness. This reflection should lead to a sense of profound gratitude. It's an opportunity to thank Hashem for sparing you and to repent for your lack of service. As the Torah tells us, "If you listen carefully to the voice of Hashem your God, and do what is right in His eyes… I will not bring upon you any of the diseases I brought upon the Egyptians" (Exodus 15:26). The Sages teach us that the cause of illness is often spiritual, not just natural. As Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa said, "The snake does not kill, sin kills." We are protected not because of our own merit, but because of God's grace. This is what King David was referring to in Tehillim: "You will tread on the lion and the viper; you will trample the young lion and the serpent" (Psalms 91:13). Why? "Because he yearns for Me, I will deliver him; I will elevate him, for he knows My name" (Psalms 91:14). Our connection to Hashem is what truly protects us. The Seudat Hoda'ah of Nothing A beautiful story illustrates this point. A man was in synagogue and saw a fellow congregant make a Seudat Hoda'ah —a meal of thanksgiving—because he had survived a car accident. A few weeks later, another person made a Seudat Hoda'ah because he had recovered from a serious illness. A week after that, a third person made a Seudat Hoda'ah for no apparent reason. When asked why he was celebrating, he replied, "I see everyone is making parties for the things that happened to them and they were saved. Nothing bad happened to me, and I am celebrating that." This is the highest form of gratitude. It's the recognition that we are constantly being saved from dangers we don't even know exist. This is the definition of the blessing we recite: HaGomel l'chayavim tovot she'gemalani kol tov —"The One who bestows kindness upon the guilty, who has bestowed all good upon me." We are those "guilty" people who are constantly being protected. The plane we took didn't go down. The car trip on the dangerous road was safe. We didn't get sick from the food we ate. Our health is not a given; it's a gift. Today's cheshbon is about remembering that you are being saved every single moment and recognizing that this is not because of your own merit, but because of God's boundless kindness.
חשבון נפש : The Arrogant Soul This 18 th cheshbon focuses on what to do when you feel a sudden onset of arrogance, or as the text calls it, gibhut v'hitgadlut hanefesh (arrogance and a grandiose sense of self). This is that feeling when you start craving more and more worldly things—luxury items, excessive comforts, things you feel entitled to. It's a normal human feeling, but it's a critical moment for self-reflection. The remedy for this feeling is to re-evaluate your place in the world. Consider your own existence in the grand scheme of things—the cosmos, the planets, the stars—and realize how insignificant you are, just a tiny dot in a vast universe. This perspective is a foundation of humility. Yet, despite our physical insignificance, God chose humanity for greatness. We were given the ability to control all living things, from taming lions to training dogs. We can cultivate the earth, grow crops, and even transform raw materials like diamonds. As it says in Tehillim, "You have made him ruler over the works of Your hands; You have put everything under his feet" (Psalms 8:7). This is a testament to the power we've been given. A Crown of Greatness For the Jewish people, this privilege is even greater. God gave us the Torah, which reveals the secrets of the world and what is truly good for us. We were given the ability to praise God, to thank our Creator, and to call out to Him in times of distress. He sent us Moses and performed miracles for us. These are just some of the endless physical and spiritual blessings He has bestowed upon us. When you recognize your immense value and how God elevated you even though He doesn't need you, you can feel truly humbled. Although a beautiful song says, "God needs every Jew," but in truth, we are the ones who need His supervision and guidance. God has crowned us with this incredible gift. The text implores, "Have pity on that great crown!" He gave you a gold crown—don't throw it in the dirt. Instead, appreciate the opportunities He's given you for the World to Come. We do this by cleaving to His service and constantly giving thanks. Don't Let Success Go to Your Head It is a grave mistake to let these gifts make you arrogant, to think that you are entitled to everything you have. Looking at your family, your home, your car, or your religious practice shouldn't breed a sense of entitlement. On the contrary, it should inspire humility. You are a simple servant who has been uplifted by a great Master and placed among ministers. King David exemplified this in his own life. As it says in Tehillim, "For the conductor, by the servant of the Lord, by David." Even after being saved from his enemies, David continued to view himself as a simple servant. His success didn't go to his head; he didn't become arrogant. The text quotes a powerful prayer that a righteous man would say at the end of his prayers: "My God, do not think that I am standing before You now because I am foolish about my level and my value...I know who You are and I know who I am. I know You are high and exalted, and I am a simple creation." He goes on to say, "There is no place for me to praise You and call out to You...You are being praised by all the angels." So where do we fit in? We are able to do this because God lifted us up and commanded us to call out to Him. It's a privilege. Ultimately, the reason we pray is she'argish b'gadel chesronay —so that we feel how lacking we are and how much we rely on God. We pray not to tell God what He forgot, but to express our dependence on Him. As King David said, "I am like a suckling child," meaning a child that has just been weaned and has no idea what it wants to eat. The child says to the mother, "You know what I want." This is the highest level of trust: wanting what God chooses for you more than what you choose for yourself. This is the essence of the 18 th cheshbon hanefesh : thinking about who you are, how you fit into the larger picture, and understanding that the greatest gifts God has given you—the ability to serve Him and speak to Him—should never get to your head.
The Value of Solitude: Insights from Sha'ar Cheshbon HaNefesh Welcome to a special series from Sha'ar Cheshbon HaNefesh , where we explore 30 introspections over 30 days. Our focus today, on day 17, is inspired by a common social scenario: you're enjoying a get-together with friends and feel the need to pause and reflect. In our current social landscape, there's often a conflict between the excitement of being with people and the benefits of being alone. While certain situations require us to be social—such as fulfilling social norms or building friendships—this introspection addresses what happens when our social interactions become excessive. Drawbacks of Excessive Socializing When a person's soul "leans" toward being with people and finding enjoyment in their company, it can become an all-consuming pursuit. The author of Sha'ar Cheshbon HaNefesh outlines 13 negative consequences that can arise from excessive socializing. Let's explore a few of the key issues: Excessive and Empty Talk: This includes endless chatter, gossip, and babbling. As the verse in Proverbs states, " In a multitude of words, sin will not cease, but one who holds back his lips is wise ." A Breeding Ground for Negative Traits: Social settings can lead to speaking negatively about others, lying, and swearing falsely. They also present opportunities for arrogance, scoffing, insulting, and general levity . This can create a lack of yirat Hashem (fear of God) and an unhealthy pursuit of honor, leading to misrepresenting oneself just to project a certain image. The Responsibility of Rebuke: Being in a group of people comes with the responsibility to offer rebuke when necessary, a mitzvah (commandment) from the Torah: " You must surely rebuke your friend. " The author identifies three forms of rebuke: Physical action: The most extreme form, like the actions of Pinchas. Verbal protest: Using words to protest wrongdoing, as Moshe Rabbeinu did with Daton and Aviram. Protest in your heart: Even if you cannot speak out, you must internally object to the negative behavior. This is a difficult responsibility to fulfill, and by being alone, a person is freed from it. Loss of Good Judgment: When surrounded by people, a person's ability to think clearly and make good decisions can suffer. We can also adopt the negative traits of others, as the verse says, " One who herds with fools will become wicked ." Ultimately, the author asserts that most sins happen among people. It "takes two to tango," whether it's sins of promiscuity, business fraud, or false testimony. The mouth, in particular, often requires a listener. The Power of Solitude The antidote to these negatives is solitude. The author calls it "one of the most powerful things that leads to good midot " (character traits). A wise person once said, "The pillar of a pure heart is the love of seclusion." In our current era of social media, where our self-worth is often tied to external validation—likes, emojis, and reactions, the idea of being alone can feel unnatural. However, as the text emphasizes, solitude is crucial for spiritual and even mental well-being because it helps us develop an inner world. We can see this principle in the lives of our greatest religious figures: Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, King David, and Moshe Rabbeinu were all shepherds. They were shepherds precisely because it gave them time alone, a period of isolation essential for personal and spiritual development. Being alone allows us to be in touch with ourselves and foster self-awareness. The Exception: Spending Time with the Wise Does this mean we should avoid all social interaction, even with talmidei chachamim (Torah scholars) and wise people? The author argues that this is a mistake. Being with righteous individuals is not a distraction but a form of "ultimate aloneness." You gain tremendous qualities from them—qualities that can be even more beneficial than being alone. As it says in Proverbs, " One who walks with the wise will become wise. " While some people avoid being with the wise to escape rebuke, the Mishnah in Pirkei Avot instructs us: "Let your house be a gathering place for the wise." This type of interaction is a constructive and valuable use of time. As the verse says, " Then those who feared God spoke to one another, and God listened ."
The Urgency of Acknowledging Mortality The 16 th Heshbon begins by stressing the need to recognize our own mortality, a realization that can strike when we witness the passing of others. The speaker emphasizes that death comes without warning, regardless of age, and uses the example of a recent terrorist attack to highlight its sudden, unpredictable nature. One of the great baalei mussar of the Novardok tradition once asked: How can a person attend a funeral and then return to their life as if nothing has changed? The answer he said, is that people fall into the trap of thinking they are not part of the "Diers' Club." They believe death is something that happens to others, a mistake rooted in the false assumption that they are exempt from this universal truth. Lessons from Parables The Hovot HaLEvavot uses a parable to illustrate the proper perspective on life: The King and His Servant: A king entrusts his servant with a valuable item, warning him that he could ask for it back at any time. The servant must always be ready. Our lives are a similar trust. We must always be prepared to return what has been given to us by living with a constant sense of readiness and purpose. An additional parable comes from the Midrash Kohelet .The Fox and the Vineyard: A fox starves himself to get through a small hole into a vineyard filled with grapes. He eats his fill, gets too fat to leave, and must starve himself again to get out. He entered thin and left thin. The moral is that we come into this world with nothing and leave with nothing. What should the fox have done ? The fox should have used his time to throw grapes over the fence, a metaphor for performing good deeds that will be of benefit in the world to come. The Wisdom of Living a Mindful Life The Hovot HaLevavot quotes several sources to reinforce this idea: The book of Kohelet (Ecclesiastes) teaches that the wise person's heart is in the house of mourning because it is a place that confronts us with the ultimate destination of all humanity. Chovot HaLevavot explains that the verse "the living person should place this on his heart" refers not just to anyone who is alive, but to someone whose heart is "intellectually alive"—one who truly understands and internalizes this profound truth. We can add: Rabbi Eliezer's famous teaching, "Repent one day before your death," is also mentioned. Since we don't know the day we will die, the only logical conclusion is to live each day as if it were our last, in a state of continuous repentance and spiritual readiness. Ultimately, this contemplation is not about fear but about living a more meaningful life. It's about lowering our expectations for this temporary world and investing our energies in the world to come, which is eternal.
This text is part of a series on the 30 contemplations, or cheshbonot , from the ethical work Chovot HaLevavot (Duties of the Heart). This specific contemplation, the 15th, uses a real-life situation to spark a spiritual self-reckoning. The Contemplation: Preparing for the Final Journey The contemplation begins with a familiar scenario: someone stocking their pantry or packing for a trip. We meticulously prepare for temporary physical journeys, ensuring we have enough food, a rental car, and a place to stay, but we often forget to prepare for the most important and certain journey of all—the one to the next world. The author uses an extended metaphor to illustrate this point: The short trip: A vacation or a trip to the store where we are over-prepared with food, provisions, and comfort. The long, guaranteed trip: The journey of the soul after death. Unlike earthly trips, there is no "mechanical failure" or escape from this one. We can use a more modern example we dedicate so much effort to the temporary world, striving for conveniences like TSA Global Entry or a first-class seat, while neglecting the spiritual provisions we need for the permanent world. "We are involved with the evil inclination and have forsaken the service of our Creator." Spiritual Blindness and Divine Light This profound negligence is described as a kind of spiritual blindness or drunkenness. The author quotes from the prophet Isaiah, who states that people's eyes are shut so they cannot see, and their hearts will not understand. The Pele Yoetz , a later ethical work, explains this with an analogy: We live in a world that is inherently dark, and on top of that, our eyes are closed. This creates a double impediment to clarity. However, on Rosh Hashanah, God "turns on the lights," creating an opportunity for us. If we are willing to open our eyes even a crack, we can begin to see the path more clearly and gain a deeper understanding. I would like to end with a powerful anecdote about the great kabbalist Rabbi Yitzchak Kaduri . Even he, a man of immense spiritual stature, was deeply concerned about his final journey. He instructed Rav Yaakov Hillel to distribute money to Torah scholars on the day of his passing, so that the merit of that act would ensure a "smooth journey" for his soul. This story serves as a profound lesson: if even a spiritual giant felt the need to prepare, how much more so should we.
Reflecting on God's Love Welcome to our special Chovot HaLevavot (Duties of the Heart) series for the month of Elul. Today, we'll discuss the fourteenth reflection, one of my favorites, and it's inspired by a real-life situation. How do you feel when someone shows you love? Maybe it's a child, a grandchild, a spouse, or a sibling who looks at you with affection, and you feel it instantly. Your natural reaction is to love them back. As King Solomon says in Mishlei (Proverbs) 27:19, " As water reflects the face, so one's heart reflects the other ." When you look in a mirror, it reflects what you show it. The same is true for emotions—the love you give is the love you get back. Now, imagine the person reflecting this love is someone very important—a minister, a prince, or a nobleman. What if they show you a sign of their love, like buying you a flower or performing a great kindness for you, not because they need something in return but simply to help you? You'd likely feel an overwhelming desire to love them back, doing everything in your power to fulfill their will and serve them with all you have—your money, your time, and even your children. If we react this way to another human being, a creation as weak as ourselves, how much more should we react with love to our Creator? God has shown us His love through His prophets. As it says in Devarim , " because of God's love for you ." He constantly shows us signs of His love, both old and new, in every generation. Even during our exile, the Torah assures us that God does not despise us or allow us to be destroyed. Even though we were slaves, He never abandoned us. The Bonds of Friendship and Covenant We know that we should honor the friends of our parents or grandparents. For example, if someone helped your grandfather escape the old country and signed his visa papers, you would remember and honor that kindness. As it says in Mishlei (Proverbs) 27:10, " Do not abandon your friend or your father's friend ." In the Gemara in Masechet Shabbat, the famous line that the whole Torah is summed up by " love your friend as you love yourself " seems to raise a question: what does loving your friend have to do with Shabbat, Tefillin, or Tzitzit? Rashi explains that in this context, "friend" doesn't just mean a fellow human being—it means God. God is our friend and our father's friend. God constantly remembers the covenant He made with our forefathers, the supervision He had over them, as it says in Shemot (Exodus), " and the oath He swore to our ancestors ." God will keep that promise. In our prayers on Rosh Hashanah, specifically in the Zichronot section, we talk all about God remembering this covenant. Our Stiff-Necked Nature After all of this, the Chovot HaLevavot pleads with us, highlighting our lack of reciprocation. He points out five failures on our part: We don't rely on Him. We don't count on His kindness. We aren't naturally moved to love Him. We don't cleave to His service. We don't pour out our hearts to Him in prayer. He asks, "What is wrong with us?" and goes on to explain: "How thick is our nature, how stiff-necked are we?" "How weak is our faith?" "How difficult are we to be dragged after the truth?" He lists all the reasons why we should respond to God's love, yet we fail to do so. We don't remember the love He had for our fathers and grandfathers, nor do we reciprocate His love for us. We don't act because of His promises or listen because of His kindness. We aren't embarrassed by our inaction, despite the fact that He created us and provides for us with good supervision. The Chovot HaLevavot says we do not remember, reciprocate, act, listen, or feel embarrassed. The Spiderweb of the Yetzer Hara "My brother," he says, "wake up from this sleep." Here's the secret: "Remove from your heart the curtain of your Yetzer (evil inclination) that has been cast upon it." There is a curtain, a blinder, a blackout shade between our intellect and our hearts. It blocks the message. It's like a spider weaving a web that blocks the light from entering a house. At first, the web is thin, but with constant repetition, it becomes thicker and thicker until no light can get in. This is how the Yetzer Hara works with us, slowly and surely. He puts layer after layer on top of us, preventing us from seeing these truths. We must rip off that spiderweb to allow the light of our wisdom to pierce our hearts and open our eyes. The Yetzer Hara is so powerful that we often don't feel God's love, despite all the signs. We can fall into the "He loves me, he loves me not" game, like plucking petals off a flower. We don't use flowers, though. We say, "I had a good day in business today—He loves me. I got stuck in traffic—He loves me not." But there's a different way to play this game: "He loves me, He loves me lots." This shifts the question from "if" He loves me to "how much" I am going to recognize and realize His love in my life. What a powerful reflection. The next time a grandchild looks into your eyes and you love them back, ask yourself, "Where is my relationship with God? Where is my reciprocal love for Him?"