It could’ve been at a picnic in the park.
It was at the funeral.
It could’ve been at a festive family dinner.
It was in the house of mourning.
It could’ve been at a family celebration.
It was in the cemetery.
It could’ve been with her at our head.
It was at her coffin.
It could’ve been sooner.
It was too late.
Today is the shloshim, the 30th day since my dear Mummy ע”ה’s untimely passing. Traditionally, this marks the end of another phase of mourning: tomorrow I’ll get a haircut and a shave – signalling a further return to normalcy.
The last month has been a whirlwind of emotions: shock, grief, anger, love, pitty. You are pained for your loved one who is no longer here and who had so much more to live – Mummy was full of life-spirit, full of שמחת החיים. She loved life and made the most of it. She could’ve lived 40 more happy and healthy years, growing old, reaping some nachas from children, grand-children and even great-grand-children.
You are pained for yourself. You won’t see your beloeved mother grow old. She will never meet your future wife, your future children. You will no longer receive her love, or benefit from her wisdom.
You are pained for the other grieving family members, those for whom this tragedy is not just a loss of a loved-one, but the turning of their worlds upside down, the complete disruption of their lives – those who were dependant on her. My dear Tatty שליט”א ויבלחט”א and my younger siblings who won’t get a mother’s love to take them into adulthood.
You feel anger as well. Anger for not being allowed to make the most of your mother whilst she was still here. Anger for not being able to fully participate in mourning with the family due to old barriers that Mummy was starting to dismantle but never got to see it to completion.
But you temper that anger with deep empathy and sadness. This is no time to point fingers or to settle old scores. Now everyone is hurt, everyone is broken. Now you want to be there for others to soften their pain, to help them, as much as they’ll let you, as much as you are allowed near.
Family tragedies are times for “us”, rather than “I” thinking. But it is difficult to be part of an “us” when you are kept estranged, at arms length. Your emapthy towards your estranged loved ones becomes a source of frustrated anguish when you are not even allowed to express it to them, to pass it on to them, to let them know that you feel them and that you’d do anything to aleviate their pain a little if only you were allowed.
In the absence of an “us”, “our mother” becomes “my mother” and you find your own connection, your own expression of grief, your own mourning. And in that, you feel the multi-year rejection anew. You weren’t able to make the most of your mother whilst she was here, nor are you able to take full part in sending her off, in saying farewell, in consolidating her afterlife momeory.
But through all of this you feel your mother’s love. You know that she was your champion; you know that she felt your pain and that she cared. At times you even allow yourself a brief moment in suspension of disbelief, imagining her looking down at you with her soft, warm eyes. I see in them oceans of love. She doesn’t speak, but I can hear her saying,
“Yitzchok, I am so proud of you. Just keep being your beautiful self!”
.מאמי, איך בין טרויעריג
.ס’איז זייער טרויעריג —
.מ’מעג זיין טרויעריג —
.מאמי, איך בענק זיך אזוי שטארק נאך דיך
.איך בענק זיך אויך, שעפעלע —
.דו האסט מיך געמאכט פאר א מאמע. איך האב אסאך געלערנט פון דיך —
.איך האב עס נישט גרינג געמאכט פאר דיך
.טאקע נישט —
.איך האב דיך אייביג אבער ליב געהאט —
.מאמי, איך בענק זיך שוין אכט לאנגע יארן
.און דו האסט מיר צוגעזאגט אז אט אט וועלן מיר שוין זיין אלע אינאיינעם
?פארוואס האסטו מיר יעצט פארלאזט
… —
?מאמי
.איך בין דא —
.מאמי, איך האב געהאט אזויפיל צער איבער די יארן
.איך ווייס —
.אונז אויך —
?האסטו נחת פון מיך
.אונז האבן אייביג געהאט נחת פון דיר —
.אונז האבן שטענדיג געזען אז דו ביסט א מענטש צווישן מענטשן און א בעל-מדות —
.דאס איז א דאנק דיר, מאמי. האסט אונז נישט געגעבן קיין אנדערע אויסוואל
.די אנדערע זאכן וואס איך האב דיך אויסגעלערנט האסטו נישט אייביג אויסגעפאלגט —
.טאקע נישט
.און דו האסט קיינמאל נישט שלום געמאכט דערמיט
.אוודאי נישט! דו האסט בועט געווען אין אלעס וואס איז ביי אונז הייליג און טייער —
איך האב אייביג געשטרעבט צו טון וואס איז ריכטיג. איך בין נאכגעגאנגען דעם אמת, אזויווי דו האסט מיך
.אויסגעלערנט
.יעצט זע איך דאס. איך בין אין עולם-האמת —
…אבער מאמי, דו ווייסט אז איך גלייב נישט
.אבער איך האב יא געגלייבט —
.און דו רעדסט צו מיר —
.מאמי, איך וויל דיך נישט אפלאזן
.דו מוזט נישט —
.קענסט אייביג רעדן צו מיר —
.מאמי, איך האב דיך אזוי ליב געהאט. און איך האב אזוי געדארפט דיין ליבשאפט
.ס’טוט מיר וויי אז איך האב נישט אויסגעפירט מיין צוזאג —
.אבער איך גיי זיכער מאכן אז ס’וועט באלד געשען —
.אבער דו וועסט נישט דארט זיין מיט אונז
.און דאס טוט מיר אזוי וויי
.יא, ס’טוט זייער וויי —
?מאמי
.יא, זיסעלע —
.איך גיי ווייטער אנגיין. איך גיי לעבן גוט
.אוודאי וועסטו —
.איך געב דיך נישט קיין אנדערן אויסוואל —
!און עס געזונט .gym פארגעס נישט צו גיין אין —
?מאמי
.יא, צדיקל —
.קענסט מיך זינגען המלאך? איך בין שלעפעריג
?ביסטו נישט אביסל צו אלט פאר דעם —
?ביסטו דען נישט געווען אביסל צו אינג פאר וואס דו האסט געטון
.ביסט גערעכט —
.לאמיר עס זינגען איינער פארן אנדערן —
Mummy, I’m sad.
— It’s very sad.
— It’s OK to feel sad.
Mummy, I miss you so much.
— I miss you too, שעפעלע.
— You made me a mother. I learned a lot from you.
I didn’t make it easy for you.
— No you didn’t.
— That never made me stop loving you.
Mummy, I’ve been missing you for 8 long years. And you promised me that we’ll all be together very soon. Why have you left me now?
– …
Mummy?
— I’m listening.
Mummy, I’ve felt so much pain over the years.
— I know.
— So have we.
Are you proud of me?
— We were always proud of you. We always saw what a mentch you are and your good middos.
That’s on you, Mummy. You didn’t give us another option.
— Well, you didn’t adhere to the other things that I taught you.
No, I didn’t.
And you never accepted that.
— How could I? You went against everything we stood for.
I always tried to do what I believed was right. I was following the truth, like you taught me.
— I can see that now. I’m in the עולם האמת, the World of Truth.
But, Mummy, you know I don’t believe…
— Yes, but I did.
— And you’re talking to me.
Mummy, I don’t want to let go of you.
— You don’t have to.
— You can always talk to me.
Mummy, I loved you so much. And I needed your love so much.
— I’m sorry I didn’t keep my promise.
— But I’m going to make sure that it happens now.
But you won’t be there with us.
And that is very painful.
— Yes, it’s very painful.
Mummy?
— Yes, זיסעלע.
I’m going to carry on. I’m going to make the best of life.
— Of course you are.
— I’m not giving you another option.
— Don’t forget your gym. And eat healthy!
Mummy?
— Yes, צדיקל.
Will you sing for me המלאך? I’m feeling sleepy.
— Aren’t you a little too old for that?
Weren’t you a little too young for what you did?
— You are right.
– Let’s sing it to each other.
On Tuesday night we said goodbye to our dear mummy ע”ה. Mummy was always there for us, and for one final time we could be there for her.
For 28 years mummy tucked us into bed and kissed us goodnight, always with the same patience and the same smile. For one final time we tucked her in and sent her off to her ultimate sleep. Mummy is now at peace. She is feeling no pain.
Good night mummy, שְׁלאָפִי גוּט!
—
Mummy was born, Miriam Bleier, 50 years ago in London, the 4th of 13 children. In her late teens and early 20s she was a beloved teacher, writing her own course material and curriculum, creatively taught through songs that she wrote herself – songs that she would continue singing to us throughout her life.
By marrying my dear tatty יבלחט”א ולרפואה שלמה, and having me, her firstborn son, at the age of 21, she started her ‘career’ and lifelong occupation of being a mummy to me and her 9 children that followed. And that she did with absolute faultless perfection. She was devoted to our dear tatty and to us children with oceans of love and compassion and understanding and wisdom. As kids, we always knew that we are incredibly lucky to have the best mummy in the world. We still believe that now as adults.
From my earliest formative memories, mummy is always there with me, guiding me, shaping me – giving me the best childhood imaginable. Despite everything that was happening in school* and beyond, home was always a happy place and a safe place, because that’s where mummy was and that’s where her ever-reassuring smile and warmth and embrace was. There was nothing too small to get her compassion, and nothing too big that her big warm cuddle couldn’t heal.
Mummy always taught us גוּטע מִידוֹת – good interpersonal character-traits. She taught us always to be kind and forgiving and caring. But we didn’t need too much explicit teaching in that, because when you were with mummy, you were living and breathing kindness and compassion incarnate. She was the paragon of complete selflessness and altruism.
One of my earliest memories of mummy, deeply etched onto my formative, childhood psyche, is the following recurring incident. Someone is mean to mummy and hurtful towards her in front of us confused and frightened young kids. Mummy sheds a tear, turns to us and says reassuringly, “מ’דאַרף האָבן גוטע מידות”.
That’s it. No complaints, no bad-mouthing, no thinking about her own pain. Just a teaching moment: Look, one needs to be kind; one needs to have good middos.
Memories such as these have stuck with me over the years. As I’ve grown older and had to contend with the difficulties in my own life, I increasingly realise how she has shaped me and groomed me in her philosophy of kindness and good middos, preparing me for future relationships and adulthood hardships. Her far-sighted wisdom keeps me going every day.
—
I wasn’t lucky to have spent lots of time in mummy’s company in recent years. 8 years ago I made lifestyle changes that were very difficult for mummy and the whole family. Mummy never stopped loving me and caring for me, but based on community advice, I was estranged from family.
It will forever be an enormous source of anguish for me that I did not get to have more time with my dear mummy when she was still here. Mummy always worked with the purest of intentions, trying to do the best for her family in a difficult situation that no one has prepared her for. The advice available to her at the time was harsh. I will never forgive those who kept mummy and I apart for a second longer than necessary.
Over the years, mummy and I worked very hard to bring the family together. Mummy had to fight against other voices to do what a mother knows is right – to keep the family united.
In recent years and especially months, real progress was made. With endless wisdom and patience mummy softened what was hard, and thawed what was frozen, slowly pushing back against resistance, gradually preparing the ground, for my return home to my family, to my siblings. With enormous subtlety and sensitivity she fought like only a mother can, that her eldest son should be allowed back home.
One month ago, mummy, tatty יבלחט”א and I spent a night away together for the first time in 8 years. It was a huge step in what was in mummy’s eyes to be an irreversible journey towards family reunification. Mummy set things in motion and promised me that I’ll be home, reunited with my dear siblings, “definitely before Lazer’s barmitzvah.” Lazer’s (לרפואה שלימה) barmitzvah is the next scheduled simcha (celebration) in the family; mummy wanted me there.
On that unforgettable night away with mummy, we talked a lot. Mummy listened to the pain I have been going through. She understood; she ached with me. Mummy also understood that the pain that came to her as a result of my actions was never intentional and that I’ve tried really hard, especially in recent years, to minimise that pain and be as sensitive towards her and her pain as possible.
I cuddled into mummy. I asked her, “Am I too old to cuddle into you?” Mummy said, “You’re never too old for a mother’s cuddles.”
—
Last week Wednesday, I was due to be in Stamford Hill for a job. Mummy asked to meet me before. She always wanted to see me when I was in the area, or when she was in mine. She asked if she can get me something to eat. I didn’t even have to say yes.
We met and mummy had a freshly made salad that she had just cut up for me and a delicious fruit-smoothie that she had just prepared. She watched me eat with so much love and care in her eyes. You never met up with mummy without getting fed, or receiving some new clothes, or some pocket money that she had saved up from her side job.
Mummy had asked me to bring her photos of how I currently look. She wanted to show it to the younger kids, to prepare them to meet me, which – mummy planned – would be happening very soon. She was very happy to receive the envelope. We said goodbye. She went home and I went off to work.
Mummy never lived to show those pictures to my siblings. Instead, I met some of them for the first time in 8 years in front of her coffin on Tuesday. Mummy’s final act was to bring the family together – something that she worked so hard to bring about. But mummy is not here to see it.
I haven’t had a single family celebration, or shabbos/yom-tov meal with mummy in the last 8 years. I never will.
Over the years, as I was fighting to be able to come back home, there were voices that kept on saying that it wasn’t the right time, or that it will happen eventually, just don’t push it. I always had the gnawing feeling, what if it will be too late? Human life is fragile, we never know for how long we’re here.
It was too late. And that pain will always stay with me. But my conscience is clear, as I know – and anyone who knows me knows – that I always fought to be with family and to be with mummy. And mummy did so too.
I take solace in those special moments I had with mummy in recent months and in the milestones that we have reached on our journey together. Mummy may not be with us to see it, but it is her efforts that have paved the way for what is bound to be a family unity in this moment of grief.
—
Recently, mummy started a part time job as a nurse and carer in a local post-natal mother/baby home. She was paid well below what she was worth – all the little money that she earned went directly for gifts and pocket-money for us children. Mummy told me on numerous occasions, “I’m not doing it for the money, but because I love babies and their young mothers.”
Her mother, my bubby יבלח”ט ולרפואה שלימה also worked at that same home for many years, until she fell ill with advanced dementia. Mummy loved her mummy very much and would go visit her every day, showering her with love and warmth, even if bubby sadly no longer recognised her. On one of my final phone-calls with mummy just 2 weeks ago, she was singing and talking softly to bubby, in between talking to me.
Mummy leaves behind a deeply grieving family. She will be dearly missed and needed. May her spirit and memory guide us and strengthen us – and especially my dear tatty יבלחט”א and the younger kids at home – to be able to carry on and continue her legacy of good deeds and happy living.
—
Mummy, we were immensely lucky to have you for as long as you were here. You weren’t with us for long, but you gave us enough love and guidance to sustain us for a lifetime. We will keep strong and support each other, always keeping in mind your reassuring calmness, because that’s what you would have wanted us to do.
Mummy, forever in our hearts and minds. 
—
* The only people I have ever heard mummy saying that she does not forgive, are the teachers who brutally beat us in cheder (school). She always forgave when it came to her own pain, but she never forgave those who intentionally hurt her children.
(It’s been a while, but this was written in a sudden burst of inspiration and tells a part of my ore recent story that I’ve wanted to write about for a while.)
Part 1
There was a time when I lived in the realm of ideas. I thought that was all there is. It’s a wonderworld and a source of endless curiosity and entertainment. At any moment you can indulge yourself by turning inwards and descending into endless rabbit holes of discovery.
You don’t need much, only your active mind. You may be in a nightclub where the dancefloor no longer interests you; you may be at work stacking grocery shelves (as I did in one of my very first jobs). That escapism is always there for you. For a while you can distract yourself from the hardships and tediousness of daily life and engage in something profound and fruitious. Or so you tell yourself.
Ironically, it was the rigorous study of philosophy itself that started to rob me of that delight. In university I encountered Hume and Empiricism, which cast doubt on the powerfulness of pure intellect to make any serious progress, when unrestrained by empirical reality. If you want to progress then you’ve got to get down and dirty with those pesky little facts of reality, that unlike ideas in your mind, hit you in the face when you get them wrong.
There’s something deeply paradoxical about a philosophy that undermines the philosophical enterprise itself; about the abstract philosophical argument of empiricism undermining the very effectiveness of abstract philosophical arguments. But such is the nature of philosophy that it is at its best when it is self-undermining. A self-assured and dogmatic philosophy is not deserving of that name anyway.
The problem with Empiricism is that you can no longer be a lazy intellectual. You need your lab, you need your research. Just thinking no longer cuts it.
As I progressed through my studies, my abstract philosophical certainties gave way to a scientific realism, with all the uncertainties that come with it. Gone was an a priori belief in determinism and in came fundamental questions about the probabilistic nature of Quantum Mechanics. Gone was the idea that you can restrain reality by a priori principles, being replaced instead by the understanding that you must let the universe itself speak its truth in its own words.
And then I encountered Wittgenstein, Quine and the neo-pragmatists. For them philosophy itself is continuous with science. It’s not only our ideas and theories that are subordinate to empirical experimentation, but our language itself – the terms and concepts that we use – is defined by empirical reality. In other words, there is no such thing as independent or pure thought.
Our experience of reality defines the concepts of our thought, whilst the latter constrains how we perceive and make sense of our experiences.
This all seems to put us in a hopelessly circular position. It seems to condemn us to the confines of a vicious cycle, where your beliefs are justified only within your idiosyncratic epistemology. You can only justify your beliefs within the context of your own pre-existing web of beliefs.
But after a brief nihilistic phase, where you think that nothing can be known or justified, you embrace the paradox and apply some good old common sense. You embrace a more pragmatic epistemology, where you centre what physically works and you reinforce it with an edifice of abstract principles, insofar as those are necessary for the coherence and sense-making of your system.
Of course you know that that’s not the end of the story, but you are also no longer convinced that it has an end. And finding that conclusion also becomes less important to you as you find comfort in the uncertainty and build up a healthier and more informed common sense.
—
Part 2
I’ve satisfied my philosophical curiosity and supplemented it with a healthy dose of science too. Intellectually I’m more comfortable. I finally feel like I have a grasp of what’s going on, what this is all about, how the wheels keep turning.
But deep inside all is not fine. The mind is very important, but I’d forgotten that I had a body too. Well, not really forgotten, I was actually never taught it. In yeshiva I was taught to develop my mind, to use it, be comfortable with exploring it. But no one told me that I had a body too. Or that that body has needs, emotions, feelings.
And it’s not only that we have bodies besides for our minds. Our minds are actually very dependent on, and influenced by, our bodies. And this is something I started learning quite late, towards the end of my time in university.
I started grappling with that more. I started going to the gym and noticing the effects it had on me, body and mind. I also started exploring my feelings and emotions in therapy. I discovered that my philosophical angst was not born in a vacuum, but was a symptom of a traumatic grappling with the effects of severe brainwashing and deprivation of free thought and information.
It’s no coincidence that I was so obsessed with free and pure thought because that’s all I had during all those lonely years of teenagehood, when all sources of knowledge and information were denied me, when all I could do was crawl ever deeper into the depths of my mind and try and find some liberation there.
And find it I did. My mind became my most powerful weapon, but also my only weapon.
And the stakes couldn’t have been higher. It was a matter of eternal life or eternal death. Think correctly and you enjoy an eternity of bliss; get it wrong and the depths of hell await you. Uncertainties won’t do. The risk is too great.
But you can’t live like that forever. You need to find peace. And in that regard knowledge really is power. The truth really does set you free. I had to immerse myself in scientific and philosophic inquiry to put my mind at ease. I had to find out for myself that the truth is so much more complex than what I was taught. That we know so much more about the world than what we can deduce from ancient texts.
But that quest is over. I have found intellectual comfort in my scientifically informed worldview. The depths of hell no longer frighten me; the rewards of heaven don’t incentivise me.
I had found knowledge, but now it was time for wisdom. And quite unwise I was. But first I had to find healing. And healing starts with the acknowledgement that you were hurt.
—
Epilogue
What do we owe each other? What do we live for? Why do we get out of bed in the morning?
Those of us who can no longer rely on revealed morality have to figure these ones out for ourselves. It’s not easy.
But it’s also not something that need be set in stone. Our self-understanding evolves over time as we live in this world and grow in our wisdom.
If you ask me about the objective foundations of morality, we can talk for hours about how that’s a myth that we created. But even more important than that is actually to treat each other with kindness and compassion.
We can have a long discussion about meaning and its objective absence. But wisdom is to know that you need to live with purpose and make your life the best it could be. And isn’t that meaningful enough?
Finding knowledge is easy. There’s so many books to read from. But it’s aquiring wisdom that’s a life-long effort. And with that realisation a new chapter in my life began. I think it is my most exciting one yet.
I apologise to my followers for the hiatus in my writing on here. The last few months have been very transitional and transformative for me, as well as difficult and often painful. Several things in my life have come together to create a perfect storm, making me rethink lots of things in my life, including the way I write publicly. I believe that I will emerge from this stronger and better and that my writing too will improve and grow.
Amongst the issues that I have been grappling with a lot recently are how to hold on to my freethinking in an increasingly intolerant and dogmatic society. Sadly many features that drove me out of my native community are now surfacing in my chosen community – the educated, liberal, middle-class. On certain issues (especially anything to do with race and inequality) the discourse is so systematically mistaken and divorced from the science, that it is no better than a very elaborate body of pseudo-religious doctrine. It is no secret that things you could say a year or two ago are no longer sayable and that the window of allowed views has narrowed enormously over this period. I am no fearless martyr for free speech and I have friendships and a career to maintain, and so I self-censor – as do many of us these days. I have been experimenting with how to write about these issues in a way that preserves my integrity and independent thinking, but that does not put me or my career in serious danger. After trial and error, I believe that I am coming closer to a balance that I am comfortable with, although I have by no means mastered it. If you have any ideas, I’d be happy to hear them. For an example of something that I have written recently that tries to walk this tight-rope, see this post on Facebook. If you read carefully you will notice how euphemistic and withheld I am being at places. And yet, I managed to bring across my main points – I hope.
Another issue that has been occupying my thoughts recently is mental health. For those of you who have followed my journey you may be aware that I have always struggled with anxiety and depression. I don’t think that I have opened up much about that part of my life, although it’s something that I live with daily and constantly. I have recently gone off medication for anxiety and have since been struggling quite a lot. I am hopeful that I will find healing, whether through therapy or by going back on medication, but truth be told it has not been easy. I have been meaning to write about my struggles for a long time, but have not yet found the right words. I believe that it will come to me soon.
Finally, I know that a lot of you followed me because of my unusual journey away from chassidic Judaism. That journey is by no means over. Personal events of the last year or two – including working as a researcher of chassidic languages, reconnecting with my brother, and moving back to London – have resurfaced many deep questions about belonging and identity. I struggle with the cultural schizophrenia of living in two worlds, but not belonging in either. I often feel in cultural exile, away from my native community and home – but I felt like an outsider even whilst living in my native community. I think that a lot of these feelings have to do with my personality and mental health struggles, alongside the particular features and tragedies of my journey. I hope to write much more about these identity struggles, as I think that it will talk to people going through similar things. I also often have the feeling that I may as well have my pain create something of artistic value (however rudimentary that is). I hope to write something along these lines shortly and in the meantime check out this article that I wrote about the pros and cons of the chassidic way of life and how that compares to the good and the bad in other cultures.
Thanks for travelling along with me on my journey and I am humbled that people find some of my thoughts and musings of interest.
I’ll leave you with an article that I wrote last year about my Rosh HaShana memories.
Happy New Year!
Izzy
Video transcript from: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eHR54qMpi1I&t=2s. English below.
מיינע חסידישע ברודער, די תורה זאגט אונז אז אויב אונז וועלן זיך אויפירן ווי ס’דארף צו זיין וועלן די פעלקער קוקן אויף אונז און זיי וועלן זאגן “רק עם חכם ונבון הגוי הגדול הזה”. איך וואוין שוין זעקס יאר ציווישן די פעלקער און קיינער זאגט דאס נישט וועגן אונזערע חסידישע, היימישע קהילות. די אידן וואס די וועלט קוקט ארויף זענען נישט פון אונזערע היימישע קהילות. אונז זענען די קהילה אידן וואס פרובירן מער ווי אנדערע אידן אפצוהיטן די תורה איז פארוואס איז די הבטחה נישט מקוים געווארן?
די תורה זאגט אונז אן צו זיין אן “אור לגוים”. אונז דארפן זיין די וואס ווייזן די וועגן פון אמת און ישרות פאר די וועלט. אבער אלץ איינער וואס וואוינט ציווישן די גוים קען איך אייך זאגן אז ליידער איז אונזער קהילה אפט א מוסטער אויף וויאזוי זיך נישט אויפציפירן. וואס גייט פאר?
איך בין א פראדוקט פון אונזערע חסידישע און היימישע קהילות. אין די מוסדות האט מען מיך אויפגעברענגט צו ליב האב אן אנדערן איד, צו העלפן א צווייטן. מען האט מיך אויפגעברענגט מיט עבודת השם און עבודת המידות, צו פאדערן פון זיך, צו ארבעטן אויף זיך, צו ווערן א בעסערע מענטש. די הדרכות באגלייטן מיך טאג טעגליך אין מיין לעבן און איך בין גאר מחשיב וואס אונזער מסורה האט מיך איבערגעגעבן.
אונזערע קהילות זענען פול מיט ווארעמקייט, חסד און לעכטיגקייט. מי כעמך ישראל ווי אידן געבן זיך איבער איינעם פארן אנדערן, ווי אונז האבן א פריוואטע health care: הצלה, ווי די קהילה נעמט זיך צוזאם כאיש אחד בלב אחד צו העלפן א איד אין נויט.
אבער למען השם וואס גייט פאר מיט אונזער אנושות, אונזער מענטשליכקייט? וויאזוי רעדן מיר וועגן דעם באשעפערס בריאות וואס זענען נישט ווי אונז? וויאזוי באציען מיר זיך צו גוים? וויאזוי לאזן מיר צו אז עס איז א נארמאלע זאך אין אונזערע קהילות צו אויסשווינדלען דעם גוי און אים צו ווינטשן אלעס שלעכטס? וואספארא מענטשן זענען אונז וואס ווען מיר הערן אז איינעם גייט שלעכט זאגן מיר “אויף אלע גוים געווינטשן”? גוים זענען עפעס נישט קיין מענטשן מיט געפילן וואס קענען שפירן צער?
די גמרא זאגט אז דעם וואס האט נישט טועם געווען פון א יעדע פרי וועט מען מעניש זיין וויבאלד ער האט נישט הנאה געהאט פון וואס דער באשעפער האט אים געגעבן. די תורה וויל אז אונז זאלן זיין באקוועם אין דער וועלט וואס דער בעשעפער האט באשאפן פאר אונז מענטשן. דער רמב”ם זאגט נאכמער אז אונז האבן א חיוב צו לערנען און פארשטיין דעם באשעפערס בריאה. לכאורה וואלטן די universities געדארפט פול זיין מיט היימישע אידן וואס שטודירן די בריאה און ווילן איר פארשטיין. ווי האלטן מיר אבער ווען עס קומט צו לעבן אין די וועלט און איר פארשטיין?
אונז ברענגען אויף אונזערע אינגלעך צו לעבן ווי נשמות אן גופים. אויף יעדע שטאפל לערנט מען זיי אויס אז די וועלט איז א שלעכטע פלאץ. מען זאגט זיי אן זיך אפצוזינדערן פון די וועלט און גיין וואוינען אין די עולמות העליונים. א יעדע מענטשליכן געפיל איז א זינד; וועלן פארשטיין די וועלט אביסל איז כפירה. אנשטאט אונז אויפציברענגען מיט א נאטורליכע נייגעריגקייט און וואונדער פארן באשעפערס בריאה פארמאכט מען אונזערע קעפ מיט נארישקייטן און אמונות טפילות. ווען איך האב געפרעגט אין חדר וויאזוי גראז וואקסט, האט מיך דער מלמד געזאגט אז יעדע גראז האט א מלאך וואס זאגט אים צו וואקסן. ווען איך האב ווייטער געפרעגט וויאזוי דעם מלאך’ס דיבור איז גורם דאס וואקסן אינם גראז, האט ער מיר געזאגט אז דאס איז העכערע זאכן און מיר פארשטייען נישט.
אבער דער מלמד האט ליגן געזאגט צו מיר. מיר פארשטייען יא! דער זעלבע פראפעסאר פאר וועם די קהילה וועט זאמלען מיליאנען כדי אז ער זאל אויסהיילן א קראנקן איד קען דיך מסביר זיין פונקטליך וויאזוי גראז וואקסט. דער פראפעסאר דער גוי פארשטייט בעסער די בריאה ווי דו דער עובד השם אבער דו פארשטאפסט דיינע אויערן און ברענגסט אויף דיינע קינדער מיט שקר און בלינדקייט.
אונז ברענגען אויף אונזערע אינגלעך מיט א האס און שנאה אנטקעגן דעם באשעפערס בריאה און די מענטשן וואס ער האט באשאפן. אונז זענן אומבאקוועם אין דעם באשעפערס וועלט און אונז האבן זיך פארמאכט די אויגן און פארשטאפט די אויערן פון פארשטיין וואס גייט פאר. אבער די וועלט ווארט נישט פאר אונז. ביז דערווייל האבן גוים און מאדערנע אידן זיך אוועקגעזעצט צו שטודירן די וועלט און איר פארשטיין. מיר האבן אנטדעקט דברים העומדים ברומו של עולם וועגן די וואונדערליכע בריאה. אונז האבן דערגרייכט מיט אונזער מענטשליכע פארשטאנד דארט ווי פריערדיגע דורות האבן ניטאמאל געחלומט. אונז פליען אין די הימלען ווי פייגל און אונז האבן פארלענגערט די לעבנס-יארן פון מענטשן מיט אפאר צענדליג יאר דורך אויסטרעפן רפואות פאר אלערליי מחלות. אונז פארשטייען וויאזוי די וועלט ארבעט פונם קלענסטן אטאם ביז די גרעסטע galaxies. איך שפיר יעדן טאג די זכיה אז איך קען זיין ציווישן די סייענטיסטן וואס פארשן אונזער וואונדערליכע וועלט.
אבער ווי זענען אונז היימישע אידן? ווי זענען אונז ווען עס קומט צו פארשטיין און לערנען דעם אייבערשטנס בריאה? זענען אונז נאכאלץ אן עם חכם ונבון, אדער מעגן נאר פרייע און מאדערנע אידן קענען די וועלט און די בריאה? וואס וואלט רמב”ם דער דאקטאר געזאגט ווען ער זעט דאס שפלותדיגע מצב פון אונזערע קהילות?
אונזערע קהילות זענען אריבער אסאך טראומא. מען האט אונז גערודפט, דערהרגעט און אונז געצווינגען צו שמד. נאכן חורבן אין אייראפע האבן אונז מחליט געווען אז אונז קענען נאר איבערלעבן ווי אידן אויב אונז פארמאכן זיך פון די וועלט. אונז האבן אויפגעגעבן אונזער רעכט צו זיין בירגער פון די וועלט כדי צו ראטעווען אונזער אידישקייט. אבער וואס אויב אין זיך אזוי ראדיקאליש פארמאכן האבן אונז אויפגעגעבן נישט נאר אונזער אנושות, נאר אונז האבן אויך פארשוועכט דאס עצם אידישקייט? וואס אויב אונז האבן זיך אזוי פארלייגט אויף זיך צו אפהיטן און זיך צו פארמאכן אז אונז האבן אינגאנצן פארגעסן ווער דער אייבישטער איז און פארוואס ער האט באשאפן די בריאה? אונז האבן געמאכט טפל עיקר און עיקר טפל. אונז האבן אנגעהאלטן די גוף פון אידישקייט אבער אפגעלאזט איר נשמה.
אין אונזערע מוסדות לערנט מען אונז נישט אויס אהבת הבריות. מען לערנט אונז אויס אז מיר טארן נישט זיין נייגעריג און וועלן פארשטיין. עס איז נישט דא קיין וועלט אינדרויסן פון די ענגע כותלי בית המדרש. ניטאמאל פארשטיין אונזערע אייגענע הייליגע לשון קודש מעג מען, ווייל דאס איז די טריפהנע דקדוק. אונזערע אייגענע תורה און היסטאריע – נ”ך – לערנען מיר נישט; אפשר דערפאר ווייסן מיר נישט ווי ווייט די נביאים האבן פיינט געהאט שווינדל און ווי זיי האבן געזאגט אז ישרות און צדק און אהבת הברוית איז וויכטיגער פון עולות וזבחים.
“מאסתי חגיכם” זאגט אונז עמוס. הושע זאגט “גם כי תרבו תפילה אינני שומע”. מיכה זאגט “מה ה’ דורש ממך, כי אם עשות משפט ואהבת חסד והצנע לכת עם אלהיך”. ווי ווייט אונזערע קהילות זענען אוועק פון עבודת השם! אנשטאט אין אידישקייט זענען מיר עוסק און ביטערע און הארבערע חומרות; אנשטאט ניצן די שכל וואס דער אייבערשטער האט אונז געשאנקן, פאלגן אונז וואס נישט געזונטע מענטשן הייסן אונז ווי מענטשן וואס גייען ארום אנא קעפ. “אזוי האט מען געוואוסט ביי חסידים”, “מען דארף נישט אלץ פארשטיין”, “ס’איז העכערע זאכן”. ווען וועלן מיר עפענען די אויגן און זען די וועלט? אדער זענען מיר אזוי brain washed אז מיר קענען פשוט נישט טראכטן פאר זיך?
אונזער קהילה – די זעלבע הערליכע קהילה מיט די חסד און די לעכטיגע משפחות – איז קראנק. אונז ברענגען אויף דורות מיט בחורים און אינגערלייט וואס זענען פשוט נישט געזונט מיט טיפע גייסטישע פראבלעמען. זיי וויסן נישט וואס צו טון מיט זיך און מיט דער פאקט אז זיי האבן א גשמיותדיגע גוף און אז זיי לעבן אין א געזעלשאפט. זיי וויסן ניטאמאל אז זיי מעגן האבן געפילן, אז זיי מעגן טראכטן פאר זיך.
אונזער קהילה דארף האבן א דאקטאר נויטיג. אויב אונז וועלן נישט זיכן רפואות גאר שנעל, וועלן אונזער שענסטע און בעסטע נישט האבן קיין ברירה און וועלן מוזן פארלאזן די קהילה. שוין יעצט אין ארץ ישראל און אמעריקע פארלאזן קלוגע און וואוילע מענטשן אונזערע קהילות ווייל מען האט זיי נישט געגעבן דאס פלאץ צו שפירן, לעבן און טראכטן ווי א מענטש. און די ציפערן וואקסן מיט יעדן טאג.
די תשובה איז נישט מיטן זיך פארמאכן נאכמער אדער מיט ארויסווארפן נאך שנעלער די וואס וואגן זיך צו טראכטן פאר זיך. מיר מוזן איבערקומען די טראומע וואס האט אונז גורם געווען צו האבן אזא פחד פון די וועלט. מיר מוזן אויפהערן זען די וועלט ווי אונזער שונא. מיר דארפן אויפברענגען אונזערע קינדער צו זיין אידן וויבאלד אונזער מסורה און וועג פון לעבן איז פול מיט גוטסקייט און חכמה, נישט וויבאלד די וועלט איז א סכנה. מיר דארפן זיין אידן אין די וועלט, נישט אנטקעגן די וועלט. מיר זענען אידן ציווישן אנדערע מענטשן וואס זענען אויך דעם באשעפערס בריאות, נישט אידן וואס רעכענען גוים פאר “אונטער-מענטשן”. דאס איז א נאציסטישע וועג פון טראכטן, נישט א אידישע!
אונזערע קהילות זענען אין קריזיס. עס איז נישט דא קיין צייט צו פארלירן. די בחירה איז פשוט: אדער עפענען אונז זיך אויף און הייבן אן אויפברענגען מער געזונטע קינדער, בירגער פון די וועלט, מיט א נאטורליכן נייגעריגקייט און דאס מעגליכקייט צו טראכטן פאר זיך. אדאר לאזן מיר די עקסטרעמיסטן אונז אראפשלעפן נאך טיפער און שאול תחתית, אינם גהינם של מטה ווי אונז זענען ווי זאמביס וואס קענען נישט טראכטן און פילן און האבן פיינט סיי די וועלט און סיי זיך אליין פאר דער חטא פון עקזיסטירן אינם וועלט. די בחירה איז אונזערע. אין הדבר תלוי אלא בנו.
My chassidic Brethren, the Torah tells us that if we’ll behave appropriately, then the nations will look at us and say, “Isn’t this great people clever and wise?” I’ve been living amongst the nations for 6 years now and no one is saying this about our Chassidic, traditional communities. The Jews that the world does look up to are not from our traditional communities. Ours are the community of Jews who try more than other Jews to obey the Torah, so why has this promise not come true?
The Torah commands us to be a “light onto the nations”. We are meant to be those who show the world the ways of truth and fairness. But as someone who lives amongst the gentiles, I can tell you that our community is often a model on how not to behave. What is happening?
I am a product of our chassidc, traditional communities. In these institutions I was brought up to love my fellow Jew and to help others. I was brought up in the service of God, in character-improvement, to demand from oneself, to work on oneself to become a better person. These teachings accompany me in my daily life and I am very appreciative of what our tradition has passed on to me.
Our communities are full of warmth, kindness and light. Who is like us in the way that we selflessly care for others, how we have our own private health-care system in the form of Hatzalah, how the community gathers as one to help a Jew in need.
But for God’s sake, what has happened to our humanity? How do we talk about God’s creations who are different to us? How do we relate towards gentiles? How could we let it be the case that it is normal practice in our communities to swindle the non-Jew and wish him ill? What kind of humans are we that when we here that someone is in pain we say, “may this come on all the gentiles”? Are gentiles not people with feelings who can suffer?
The Talmud says that whoever hasn’t tried every type of fruit will be punished, since he hasn’t enjoyed what God has given him. The Torah wants us to be comfortable in the world that God has created for humanity. Maimonides says that we have a duty to study and understand God’s creation. Presumably the universities should have been full of traditional Jews studying the universe and trying to understand it. But where are we up to when it comes to living in the world and understanding it?
We bring up our boys to live like disembodied souls. At every stage they are taught that the world is an evil place. They are taught to isolate themselves from the world and live in the Upper Realms instead. Every human feeling is a sin; wanting to understand the world is heresy. Instead of educating us with a natural curiosity and wonder of God’s creation, our brains get blocked with nonsense and superstitions. When I asked in school how grass grows, the teacher told me that every blade of grass has an angel that tells it to grow. When I carried on asking how the angel’s speech causes the grass to grow, he told me that these are mystical matters that we don’t understand.
But the teacher lied to me. We do understand! The same professor for whom the community gathers millions of pounds so that he may heal a Jew who is ill, can explain to you exactly how grass grows. The gentile professor understands God’s creation better than you, God’s servant, does. But you block your ears and bring up your kids with lies and blindness.
We are bringing up our boys with hate and loathing towards God’s creation and the people in it. We are uncomfortable in God’s world and we have covered our eyes and blocked our ears from understanding what is happening. But the world isn’t waiting for us. In the meantime, gentiles and modern Jews have sat down to study the world and to understand it. We have discovered profound truths about the wonderful creation. With our human intellect we have reached there where previous generations haven’t even dreamt of. We fly in the skies like the birds and we have increased the human life expectancy by several decades through the discovery of all kinds of medications. We understand the workings of the universe from the tiny atom to the largest of galaxies. I feel privileged every day to be amongst the scientists who study our wonderful world.
But where are us traditional Jews? Where are we when it comes to understand and study God’s creation? Are we still a “clever and wise people”, or are only secular and modern Jews allowed to know the world and creation? What would Maimonides the doctor have said had he seen the lowly state of our communities?
Our communities have gone through lots of trauma. We have been prosecuted, murdered and forcefully converted. After the holocaust we decided that we can only survive as Jews if we close ourselves off from the world. We gave up our rights as citizens of the world in order to save our Judaism. But what if in so radically closing ourselves off we have given up not only our humanity, but have also desecrated Judaism itself? What if we have focused so much on shutting ourselves closed that we have forgotten who is God and why He has created the world? We have made the details into fundamentals and the fundamentals into details. We have kept the body of Judaism but given up on its soul.
We are not taught love of humanity in our institutions. We are taught that we mustn’t be curious or want to understand. There is no world outside of the narrow walls of the synagogue. We are not even allowed to understand our own Holy Tongue, as that is the “inappropriate grammar”. Our own Torah and history – the Nach – we do not study; perhaps that’s why we don’t know how much the prophets hated swindle and how they said that fairness, justice and love of humanity is more important than sacrifices for God.
“I find your festivals disgusting”, Amos tells us. Hosea says, “even as you multiply prayers I do not listen”. Micah says, “What does God ask of you other than pursuing justice, loving kindness and being humble with God?” How far our communities have strayed from the service of God! Instead of Judaism we are busy with strict and severe stringencies; instead of using the intellect that God gave us, we obey unhealthy people as if we were people walking around without heads. “This is how chassidim lived”, “We don’t need to understand everything”, “It’s a mystical thing”. When will we open our eyes and see the world? Or are we so brainwashed that we simply can’t think for ourselves?
Our community – the same beautiful community with the kindness and radiant families – is sick. We are bringing up generations of boys and young men who are simply ill with deep mental issues. They don’t know what to do with themselves and with the fact that they have an earthly body and that they live in society. They don’t even know that they are allowed to feel and think for themselves.
Our community urgently needs a doctor. If we won’t look for remedies swiftly, our best will have no option but to leave the community. As I’m writing, there are nice and clever people in Israel and America who are leaving the community because they were not given the space to feel and think like a human being. And the numbers are growing with every passing day.
The answer is not to close ourselves off even more or to kick out even faster those who dare to think for themselves. We must overcome the trauma that caused us to fear the world. We need to stop seeing the world as our enemy. We need to bring up our kids to be Jews because our tradition and way of life is full of good and wisdom, not because the world is a threat. We need to be Jews in the world, not in opposition to it. We are Jews amongst humans who are also God’s creation, not Jews who consider non-Jews as subhuman. That is the Nazi way of thinking, not the Jewish one!
Our communities are in crisis. There is no time to lose. The choice is simple: either we open up and start bringing up healthy children, citizens of the world, with a natural curiosity and permission for independent thinking. Or we can let the extremists drag us down even deeper into the abyss, into a hell on earth where we are like zombies who can’t think and feel and who hate the world and ourselves for the sin of living in it. The choice is ours. The matter depends on us alone.
I read this book over the span of a week or so. Then I immediately reread it in one 2hr 40min sitting. It was a meditative experience. The Outsider (that is the character, not the book) is a being living in the moment, not taking life and the world too seriously, but profoundly enjoying it. However, societal morality dictates that we care more and conform to considerations beyond the here and now and that we follow a specific (time- and space-dependent) moral code in doing so. The Outsider finds this perplexing. It’s not that he doesn’t care, only that he wants to enjoy life in a way that is unconstrained by considerations beyond the present moment in time. He’s riding along life’s waves happy to see where they will take him. The prospect of certain death is therefore intolerable to him, not because he doesn’t want to die, but because life’s trajectory (i.e. his certain death) has become predetermined for him. For him it isn’t living if life can no longer take him on various destinations and voyages.
I think that we can all learn from the Outsider. To me he represents the conflict between our own personal and idiosyncratic existence on the one hand and society’s dictations and expectations of us on the other. Society wants us to conform to certain ways of being, thinking and feeling, but in doing so we give up some of our personality and individuality. Society wants us to feel certain moral feelings, but these demand of us to feel sad and worry and we are not at liberty to transcend these feelings and just live in the moment and take things as they are, or we risk being executed by society just like our Outsider is.
When we see what society does to the Outsider, one natural response is to heed the lesson and become an Insider. That’s what the vast majority of us do. We have become insiders to such a degree that we’re not even aware of the fact that we are insiders and instead regard our mode of being as the only one, with all the norms, feelings and morals that come with it. A different response, however, is to remain an Outsider in Insider’s skin. This demands living a double life where in one’s internal life one is an Outsider, but in one’s external life, one behaves and acts like an Insider. Thus one can hope to avoid Meursault’s (the Outsider of our story) sentence by fooling society into treating him or her as an Insider. In fact, society doesn’t have an issue with Outsiders as long as they behave and present as Insiders, thus not challenging or subverting society’s norms and expectations.
But the double-lifer lives a dangerous existence, as if he ever lets down his guard he might slip up and betray his true mode of being. When that happens, society will invariably execute him, whether literally or socially. If he isn’t killed, then he will lose his job, his friends and his family. But for the Outsider this is a risk that he has to take, as to become a full Insider is to give up on his integrity, freedom and individuality.
Whilst the Outsider can never publicly admit that he’s an Outsider, he sometimes drops hints – a very risky business – just to prove to himself that he hasn’t been subsumed in the Inside and that he is still an Outsider, even though he is wearing Insiders’ clothes.
It is lonely and isolating being an Outsider, and sometimes the Outsider will seek to connect with other Outsiders (the Outsider feels claustrophobic on the Inside, but he is still a social animal in need of company). But most often when that happens, a new Inside is created and the Outsider finds himself suffocating again in need of some Outside fresh air. He then packs his bags again in search of a new Outside, only to have the story repeated again and again.
At some point the Outsider realises that there is no such thing as a place for Outsiders. All available places are Inside. The Outsider who reaches this realisation, resigns to his isolation and loneliness, puts on his Insider garb and finds comfort and excitement in his constant struggle for self-identity and demarcation in a world that will do anything it can to deny his existence.
In this post I would like to introduce you to Mussar. I’ll start with some historical sketches, then I’ll discuss some of its features, and finally I’ll explore a little about what it means to me and how I have used it during different phases in my life.
The word mussar comes from Biblical Hebrew, where it has the meaning of flagellation, admonishment and reproach. When a father gives mussar to his son (as in Proverbs 1:8), he is reproaching him, often with harsh words, in the hopes that the son will reflect on his ways and improve.
Beginning in the early 19th century in Lithuania, Mussar became a popular movement of self-improvement in the service of God, with yeshivas emphasising its teachings and a vast literature being published, distributed and read by thousands. But the Mussar genre is far older than this 19th century movement. Literature on self-improvement in the service of God is found amongst the earliest Jewish writings, starting from Biblical books such as Proverbs and Ecclesiastes, then in the Mishnaic-era Pirkei Avot, in the medieval Chovot HaL’vavot, through to the early modern Messilat Yesharim. The Mussar movement incorporated and studied all of these traditional texts, whilst adding and creating new texts.
In traditional Judaism, as in the Mussar movement, no distinction is made between philosophy, theology, psychology, wisdom and self-improvement. All of these domains are mobilised and utilised without distinction for one goal: self-improvement in the service of God. Philosophical and theological insights are used extensively in the mussar literature, but never for the sake of pure intellectual and abstract curiosity. An insight is worthy insofar as it helps one in his avoidas hashem.
What is avoidas hashem? Literally, the term means “service of God”, but in the mussar movement this term is used to mean “self improvement in the service of God”. It is worth pausing for a moment to unpack this. From a secular perspective, self-improvement and serving God might seem like two very different things. You might think that self-improvement would involve living healthier, becoming a better person, being nicer to others, feeling happier, etc. On the other hand, serving God means praying, following Biblical commandments, studying religious literature, etc. But in mussar, as is the case with traditional Judaism in general (and in all mainstream religious traditions), these two are not separable.
Avoidas hashem means serving God by becoming a better person and becoming a better person in order to serve God. You are not becoming a better person if you are not serving God and you are not serving God if you are not becoming a better person in the process. The rationale for this is very straightforward. God is your maker and knows what is best for you. Moreover, God wants what is best for you. So the only way to live your best life is to listen to God and obey Him. Similarly, if you listen to God and serve Him, you will become a better person – as long as you are doing it right. Mussar is here to teach you how to do it right.
Needless to say, that just as with every tradition, some books in the mussar tradition are better than others at conveying this message. Likewise, some figures in this movement are better role models than others. For example, it is not uncommon to come across mussar literature that have neglected the “self-improvement” part and have developed a notion of serving God that is completely divorced from human nature and from human well-being. Some communities and traditions have gone down this harmful route and have developed really depressive and self-denying philosophies.
But, just as with every tradition, the mussar tradition is well-equipped with its own internal resources to rectify for these straying and misled strains. Many mussar leaders and books will warn against reading this book or that, due the unhealthy ideas espoused in them. Unfortunately, it is not always the healthy thinkers that people will listen to and many in my native community, including myself, spent many years listening to and reading unhealthy, life-denying thought and literature. It is a lifetime’s work to unlearn them.
Whilst the mussar movement was a primarily Litvish (Lithuanian) phenomenon, mussar ideas and traditions existed in all Jewish traditions and demographics, as discussed. Additionally, the newly invigorated ideas of the 19th century mussar movement seeped through to chassidic Polish-Hungarian Jewry, even as the latter disparaged and resisted it. Chassidic Jewry had developed a parallel to mussar, which is chassidism. Chassidism concerns itself with many of the themes found in mussar, but it uses a very different vocabulary. Unlike the mostly plain-spoken mussar literature, chassidic literature uses a mystical and interpretive vocabulary. Whilst mussar literature is relatively down to earth, chassidic literature often talks about ecstasy, divine-communion, self-annulment and other-worldly matters. Chassidic literature also doesn’t emphasise the “self-improvement” component of avoidas hashem in the way that mussar does.
Despite chassidism’s early scepticism of the mussar movement, mussar literature is now extensively read in all chassidic communities, including literature produced by the 19th century mussar movement. Growing up in a chassidic community, us boys were introduced to traditional mussar literature before we were introduced to chassidism, due to the accessibility of the former as compared to the latter. The first mussar book that we studied in cheder was the Orchot Tsadikim – a book whose chapters correspond to different character traits (e.g. laziness, arrogance, etc) and it teaches you to identify the good ones from the bad ones and how to amplify the good and combat the bad.
Whilst I did read plenty of chassidic literature in my teens, my heart was always drawn to mussar – especially those of a rationalist bent. Thus my all time favourite mussar book that I studied many times from cover to cover was Ramchal’s Messilat Yesharim. Ramchal was a polymath and a brilliant writer. Whilst he had a very strong mystical and superstitious side, he keeps many of his writings very rationalistic and accessible. His mastery of early modern Hebrew is unparalleled and his clarity of exposition had not been seen in the Jewish tradition since the medieval Maimonides. I was absolutely in love with his writings (as you can probably see, part of me still is) and for many years I would read him on a daily basis.
Well, actually, that’s a lie. You don’t read mussar. Only academics studying mussar as outsiders read mussar. Those within the tradition shout mussar, breathe mussar, live mussar. My daily study of the Messilat Yesharim consisted of locking myself into my room, opening the book and shouting out the pages’ contents at the top of my lungs, all the time swaying wildly to and fro. It is not an intellectual experience of reading something insightful, but a meditative experience of transforming yourself, admonishing yourself, demanding from yourself and promising yourself that you’ll be better. This mussar meditation experience used to be the highlight of my day. I would look forward to it, knowing that however bad my day is, a dose of mussar would give me new hope.
Other mussar personalities that I listened to and read were the late Rabbi Avigdor Miller, The Steipler (Chaye Olam), The Chazon Ish (Emunah Ubitachon), Chovot HaL’vavot and many more.
When in 2015 I lost my faith in orthodox Judaism, I stopped engaging with mussar. As discussed, self-improvement is intimately entangled with service of God in mussar and it didn’t seem to make sense for an atheist to carry on reading this. But I lost something very valuable and that is the self-improvement side of mussar. Of course I could have found many books and writers on the themes of self-improvement and character development in secular society and in many philosophical traditions, but for some reason I didn’t. Perhaps I wasn’t ready.
Over the last 5 years I have thrown myself into philosophy. I have soaked up everything the analytic philosophy course at my university had to offer. Philosophy has given me very important and valuable tools, tools that will accompany me for the rest of my life. But it has given me nothing in the form of self-improvement and character development. Not once in my four-year philosophy course did we stop to ask the following simple question: what is the good life and how can we live it?
This is not a shortcoming of my course; analytic philosophy is simply not equipped to deal with this question. Asking why we didn’t ask this question in the philosophy course is like asking why we didn’t ask it in the physics course: these disciplines are simply not equipped to handle such questions.
And so it was that I never seriously asked myself this question since I lost my faith. I think that I didn’t know that this is a question that needed to be asked. As a believer I never had to ask this question, since the answer was obvious. And as an atheist I never asked it because I thought that it was an illegitimate question: what’s the meaning of life? Well, life has no meaning – move on!
But I’ve recently come to realise that this is a question that is legitimate. But not only that, it is the most important question that one can ever ask. It’s a simple question: I’m here visiting existence from non-existence for a really short stay; how do I make the most of it? And once I started asking myself this question, a whole host of questions opened up: am I happy? Am I living the kind of life that I will come to be proud of in years to come? What things that I am doing now will I come to regret?
The answers to these questions weren’t terrible. I was living an OK life. I wasn’t always happy, but I wasn’t miserable either. Not that I was utilising every moment of my life, but I wasn’t wasting all of it away and doing nothing with it.
But is this good enough for a life that I have one and only one chance at living?
I started reading more and listening more. I started scheduling in regular sessions of self-reflection. I started making small but meaningful changes in my life. I started the work towards becoming a better person.
And then it clicked. I was doing mussar again. After all, I have a rich tradition of self-reflection and self-improvement to fall back on for the task of becoming a better person and I don’t have to start from scratch. The tools for self-improvement are all there in mussar, you just have to know how to translate the vocabulary to fit your own needs.
Perhaps there’s even room for God! What is God? That ultimate idea that obligates you to become a better person? Well, I now believe in that God. It is of course not the Jewish God, but isn’t my quest for the good life a god? Isn’t it the most and only important goal? What else is there to want other than to live the good life? Doesn’t this god also obligate me to do certain things and to avoid doing others? Well, this God tells me to stop overeating, to start waking up earlier, to live in the moment, to be kind to myself and others!
And so I come back to avoidas hashem. It’s the same idea just translated in vocabulary that I can understand. And over the last few months I have rediscovered for myself many more mussar entities that help me in my newfound avoidas hashem. There’s the yetzer hara (evil inclination) that keeps on whispering things in my ear to distract me from my goals; there’s the concept of Bitachon (trust) that I need to have in order to believe in what I do and that the direction that I am taking is good for me; and alongside them there’s a host of other concepts and entities that help me in my avoidas hashem.
And if you ever find me walking along the riverside immersed in thought, perhaps talking to myself, don’t interrupt me. I’m having a mussar session. I’m thinking about that most and only important question in life. I’m thinking about avoidas hashem.
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