Anyone who knows me knows I’ve been studying human potential and personal growth for years. I’m always looking for tools and techniques to help people – myself included – reach their fullest potential and live fully as well. Plus, I like to put all of this into a Jewish context if I can. So, when I saw two opportunities recently to advance my Jewish knowledge in this area, I jumped at the chance. However, now that I’ve taken advantage of those opportunities, I don’t feel that I’ve learned something so different, nor do I feel that I have been told to do something so unique as I work towards becoming a better, more actualized person. In fact, I’m faced with the same old quandry.
I just completed a six-week course offered by Chabad’s Jewish Learning Institute called Soul Maps, Kabbalah to Navigate Your Inner World, which discused the primary premises of a book called the Tanya. This 200-year-old text named after its first word,ย which means “We’ve learned,” and written by Rabbi Shne’ur Zalman as a substitute for his personal mentorship, is supposedly the precursor of the modern self-help genre. It’s written to offer the reader a spiritual counseling session with the Rebbe, and the author sought to use the book to make the teachings of Kabbalah practical, relevant and accessible while applying them to human psychology. However, the Tanya alsoย outlines the Chabad philosophy and ethos and serves asย the “bible” of Chabad Chassidism.
During the time I was taking this course, which did not require reading the Tanya, I happened to have the time (something I rarely do) to read a book by Alan Morinis, called Climbing Jacob’s Ladder, which is about his experiences with the Mussar tradition. Mussar refers to a Jewish ethical, educational and cultural movement that developed in 19th century Orthodox Eastern Europe, particularly among the Lithuanian Jews.ย ย Theย Hebrew term mussarย comes from the book of Proverbs 1:2 meaning “instruction, discipline or conduct.” Its founding is attributed to Rabbi Yisrael Lipkin Salanter, and the way Morinis explains it, it’s all about changing our behavior, refining character traitsย and making choices so our soul can “shine” through.
Now this is not that different from what the Rebbe tells us to do in the Tanya. And both talk about it in similar terms. In both cases, we are told that we have a soul…although in one we are told that the soul has different components, one leading us astray, if you will, and one leading us down the right and righteous path. In either case, the point is to care for that soul, which houses a spark of Divinity. We want to let it shine. We want to let it be our guiding force to do good in the world, whether that means performing more mitzvot, or commandments, or simply behaving better in general (not getting angry or frustrated, not over eating, giving charity, being compassionate, etc.).
How is this accomplished? While the Tanya offers two options, I’m going to focus upon the one that seems to me quite similar to that offered by the Mussar tradition. Both tell us to become conscious, and, thereby, to make conscious choices. So, realize that you are angry, and choose to respond (rather than react) in a different manner. Realize you are overeating, and choose to stop eating…and take a smaller portion next time. Realize that you don’t need to spend $4.50 on a cup of coffee at Starbuck’s as much as you need to give the money to charity instead. Realize that you could could connect with God each day by simply taking time to say morning prayers or adding in some other mitzvah, such as saying the blessings over your food.
The problem with both the advice offered by the Tanya and Mussar, however, is the same as that offered by most other self-help, human potential and self-growth tools: You have to become conscious of your behavior first. And you have to want to change that behavior badly enough in that moment that you become conscious to actually do something differently.
The reason most of us fail in our efforts at change lies simply in the fact that we can’t muster the will power to follow through with the actual action of change. I may realize that I’m overeating in the moment I’m doing it, but rather than stop, I take another portion. I may realize I’m yelling at my kids again, but just continue doing so. Why? Because change is difficult.
It’s easier to do what we’ve always done, but our habits…and our habitual reactions…won’t get us any farther than they’ve gotten us right now. We won’t achieve any greater level of success than we have achieved to date by doing what we have always done. We have to change something, do something differently. We have to consciously choose to responde in a new manner. And that’s the hardest part.
So, this class and this book were lovely Jewish reminders of what I need to do. They offered a Jewish take on what I already know, and they even gave me some new terminology and some unique views on why we do what we do and how we look at change, but they leave me with the same issue: I have to want to change badly enough so that when I become conscious of my behavior I actually do something differently – I actually pursue my “Godly Soul’s” desires or develop qualities that allow my true Divine Nature to shine through.
