A Torah teaching that profoundly upgrades my life is “Gam zu l’tova” – there is good in this, too.   Implicit in this teaching is that while we can’t always change negative or unpleasant facets of our life, we can change our relationship to them.

A story

R. Zelig Pliskin is a senior lecturer at Aish in Jerusalem and a master of this wisdom.  One day his five-year-old came home from school  sobbing.

“They all call me ‘gingi,’” he cried, referring to the Hebrew word for “red-head.”

“Hmm,” R. Pliskin strategized.  ”I will make you the following deal.  You keep careful track tomorrow of exactly how many times you’re called ‘gingi’ and for each one I will pay you a shekel.”

The boy’s mouth dropped open.   For a five-year-old, this could mean real money.

So the next day he did just that.  As they teased, he became calm and intent as his fingers counted.

“Sixteen,” said the boy that evening, at which point R. Pliskin counted out 16 shekels.  His son could barely contain himself.

The next day, there were fewer taunts.  Within a few days, there were none.

In my own life, I sometimes feel taunted by obstacles – from negative  people to my own negative habits.  I can resent and protest them but that typically strengthens their effect.  Or, I can change my relationship with them.  Like R. Pliskin’s son, I can see, “There is good in them,” and thereby earn amazing riches and upgrades.

Shabbat Shalom,

Henry Harris

PS – Please join me this coming Monday at 7:15pm for “Torah-tainment: The 10 Suggestions?” or this Wed. at 8pm, “How We Muck Up Relationships.” http://www.aishcenter.com/programs/learning

“I know everything about football. I know what every player is supposed to do. I can see the play before it happens.  I know how to manage a game.

G-d tells Moshe to inform Pharoah of the impending plague of blood at Pharoah’s morning visit to the Nile.  Why then and there?

Pharoah is in denial (pun intended)  - “I am a  god who has no need for the bathroom.”   (He would relieve himself every day before the sun rose and hold his bowels – to the wonderment of his subjects.)  Moshe’s early morning confrontation catches him literally with his pants down.

Consider pitiful Pharoah, stubbornly hiding his need to eliminate in order to pretend he’s something he’s not.  Doesn’t he realize that the need to use the bathroom is part of what makes us human, that it signifies not our lowliness, but rather our capacity to choose our soul even as we feel the tug of a more lowly nature?

I once had the pleasure of meeting with someone pursuing recovery from addiction.  He’s discreetly but proactively seeking support and spirituality.

“I tried a long time to manage the challenge on my own,” he shared.  ”At a certain point, I realized I couldn’t hide.”

Pharoah is the arrogance of thinking I am autonomous and need no one because I concede no imperfection.  Such is the stuff from which addictions come:   I feel compelled to do silly, self-defeating behaviors to mask my foibles rather than humbly seek means to grow.

The takeaway is: the powerful person is not the one who needs no one; it’s the one who acknowledges his shortcomings and thereby creates powerful partnerships to address them.

Shabbat Shalom,

Henry Harris

1) Join me Monday at 7:15pm for Weekly Torah-tainment at Aish or listen to past talks on iTunes

2) Join Tzipora and I  next Friday night at Aish for our winter Luau Shabbat

The Egyptians strove to destroy the Jewish people with avodas parech: “work of crumbling.”  What’s the principle?

The Talmud explains that such work includes two aspects:

1) no purpose – “dig a 10 foot hole and when you’re done fill it up and then redig it, etc.”

2) no completion – “dig here until I tell you to stop.”

The best way to break the spirit of a human being is to bind him to activity that has no apparent goal or end point.   Purpose is to the human spirit as oxygen is to the human lungs; our vitality is literally dependent on it.  When a person experiences a deficiency of purpose, it’s hard to think; it’s hard to see reality; it’s hard to be alive.

I spoke with someone recently who was experiencing significant pain and indecision. 

“I’m so frustrated,” he said.  “I feel like G-d is giving me the same challenge over and over and I’m not getting it.”

Listening more closely to his words, I sensed our principle at work.  

“You seem to think you’re in some kind of remedial school,” I suggested, “as if this work is below where you should be, even pointless.”

“Kind of,” he admitted.

“Who says?” I asked.  “Great sages describe themselves facing similar challenges.  According to them, this is not remedial school; it’s graduate school.”

He heard it.  We then reviewed several routes his decision could take.  One jumped out as obvious and reasonable.

“Amazing,” he said.  “When I open up to the value of the work, the work goes more smoothly.”

May we merit to seek and find both meaning and meaningful markers of growth in all that we do.

Shabbat Shalom,

Henry Harris

PS – Join me Monday at Aish, 7:15pm, for more insights on freedom, or check out my classes on iTunes

There’s a lot of blessing going on in the weekly portion: Jacob blesses each of his children before he dies; we learn the formula for blessing Jewish boys which is recited Friday nights in Jewish homes till today.

What exactly is a blessing?

Let’s look at the Hebrew for “blessing:” bracha.  Our sages teach that it shares its root with bricha – a live spring of water.  Just as a spring points to water’s point of origin (albeit hidden), so does a “blessing” – it focuses the attention of the blesser on the truth that there is a source to life – beyond our immediate perception – that is continuously flowing.  The greater our awareness – i.e. the aperture –  the greater the flow.

When I give you a blessing, I first think about you and your needs.  I’m moved by who you are and by your dependence on the source, and I pray for you.  In the merit of you (and your needs) becoming a catalyst for my greater “Source” awareness, you become the recipient of that greater “flow,” the fulfillment of my prayer.

This week, as my wife was about to nod off at 1am after a long day of serving as cook, chauffeur, tutor, mediator, and butler, I thought of the following blessing:

Tzipora, in the merit of you squeezing your needs and wishes to make room for others, may the Al-mighty squeeze a lot of rest and relaxation into this short night of sleep!

And my blessing to you, dear reader: In the merit of your openness to wisdom and growth, may the Al-mighty open both your eyes to your great present abundance and your heart to receive even more.

Shabbat Shalom!

Henry Harris

PS – Please join me Monday night at Aish, 7:15pm – The Exodus and our own personal Egypt.

I went to get an inspection sticker today for the used car we just got.  Too many cars in line: I bailed.  It’s ok, I consoled myself, the main reason to come to Newark was to buy an additional van seat from a junk yard.  The floor moldings were wrong: no go.

I shared my frustration with my wife as I walked in the door.

Then my son walked in. “Where’s the Frustration Game?” he asked.  My wife gave a puzzled look.

“What’s that?”

“It’s the name we gave to the new toy,” I explained.  Last Shabbat we gave the kids Perplexus: a round plastic ball with snaking obstacle courses over which one attempts to gently guide a metal ball to a final marker without it falling off.  Last Shabbat the boys (and some adults) unlovingly named it the Frustration Game.  At one point, I thought we might need to de-gift it.

Then it dawned on me.

“Moshie,” I told my son, who seemed frustrated that he couldn’t find the Frustration Game, “you can play the Frustration Game with anything, anytime, anywhere.  I just played it right now – twice in Newark!”

2011 is about to come to a close.  I’ve played this game plenty over these past 12 months; I will be tempted to do so again no doubt.  But there’s another game to play: the Perspective Game, as my wife hinted at when summarizing my aborted errands.

“It’s ok,” she said.  ”It’s just another reminder from G-d that we don’t run the world.”

May we merit to embrace forgo Frustration for Perspective in 2012.

Shabbat Shalom

Henry Harris

An elderly African-American man asked forgiveness as he interrupted my subway Torah study.

“Is it true that Hebrew reads from right to left?”  he said with a smile.

“That’s right,” I said, showing the direction of the script.

“I study the Torah regularly,” he said, still smiling.  “And I love the Jewish people.”

“Really?” I asked, sensing his desire to share.

“Sure.  Ever since I was a boy on the Lower East Side, I loved the Jewish people.   My mama needed help to feed us kids.  The rabbi used to put something in her hand to help her.  He made sure we had what to eat.”  He was beaming.

The train came and we said farewell.  I was touched by his warmth and sincerity and it lingered as I took the train uptown and considered the lessons to draw from the exchange.

1) It’s pleasurable to acknowledge the good that’s been done to us.  Did he really want to verify the direction of Hebrew script?  I don’t think so.   He was on a mission: he wanted to express the good feeling in his heart to a representative of the doer of  great good to his family; he needed a pretext to do so. His pleasure was palpable.

2) It’s really nice to be on the receiving end.  Of course, I didn’t do anything to merit it.  But his praise was broad and generous: I acknowledge you for being someone who publicly identifies yourself with the Jewish people.

May we merit to be party to much praise.

Shabbat Shalom,

Henry Harris

PS : Celebrate the 2nd night of Chanukah with us! http://www.aishcenter.com/soho-lights-chanukah

Check out Colbert vs. Carell on “Whose G-d is Greater!?” http://www.aishcenter.com/make-the-case

Our Sages debate the merits of fire and red hot metal or coal as a heat source.

The coal is hotter. Any (slightly pyro) kid will tell you that you can pass your fingers, even not so quickly, through a flame and not be hurt. Don’t try that with red hot metal.

Yet the flame has an advantage: its heat is independent; it’s not reliant on outside sources. Our goal is to be like the flame. But how?

Recently I got up early to drive to an annual Aish rabbis meeting in Connecticut. I planned accordingly, I thought, to arrive on time for the morning minyan.

Traffic.  Delays.  Thoughts: This isn’t good; if you don’t make it on time, it’s a bad start; if you don’t make it, you’re not fully committed, inspired, etc.

Then it occurred to me.  I am committed and inspired and serious not because I have a result in hand, but because I know: G-d desires my prayers.

I felt myself switch from recrimination to yearning: G-d, clear the traffic, don’t let me get lost, get me there on time because I want to make a beautiful prayer.  I am not waiting for things to cause my inspiration.  I turn inward and acknowledge: I have a purpose here; my effort is desired from above; what’s my next choice?  Choose it.

May we merit to pursue great results in this world not as external evidence of life’s goodness, but as commitments to honor a powerful inner flame.  PS – I made the minyan.

Shabbat Shalom,

Henry Harris

PPS – Great video clip: Join R. Jacobs and I for a day of spiritual and intellectual DISCOVERY, Sunday, Dec. 25: http://www.aishcenter.com/make-the-case

Jacob suspected funny business under the chupa.  So he created a secret code for Rachel to identify herself from under her veil.  But when Rachel foresaw Leah’s utter humiliation at being discovered, she couldn’t withhold it and so Leah, not Rachel, became Jacob’s wife.  Mind you, Rachel didn’t know there would be a second wedding – she thought she was giving up (not just sharing) her marriage forever.

How does one find the strength to do such a thing?  The answer, I believe, is profound trust in the immutable, Divine quality of Halacha, or Jewish law.

Jewish law as it relates to this story teaches that humiliation is akin to murder: just as I can’t murder a rival to a marriage partner, I can’t humiliate that rival.  Once Rachel saw that the path to marriage would require leaving the bounds of Jewish law, she saw that it was a “no go” zone.  Hence the deeper meaning of Halacha – literally “the way, or path.”

The power of a path is that in helping us clarify what to say “no” to, it simultaneously allows us to say “yes” in a focused and passionate way.

I am still astonished by how quickly candy-loving kids drop a candy at grocery store when informed it’s not kosher.  It’s just not on the “path.”

May we merit to cultivate a profound appreciation for The Way and thereby find strength to say powerful “no’s” and “yes’s” on our journey.

Shabbat Shalom,

Henry Harris

PS – Thanks to all who joined in making our 2011 gala a great success this past Wednesday!

PPS – Save the Date: Sun. Dec. 25 – The Discovery Program at Aish!

Now that we have a yard, we have to do things like raking leaves.  My wife hired my sons (ages 10, 8, and 6) last Sunday: $1 per kid per bag.  They were thrilled at their new found earning capacity.  I was a little wary.

The session began well enough: the four of us gathered and deposited leaves.  We took turns compacting them.   They excitedly planned how they’d spend their wages.  Soon, though, the temptations of other pursuits called.

There was the next door neighbor’s basketball hoop, the broken branches that made nice whips, the interesting rock, and pretty much anything else other than the leaves.

I made various displeased announcements about their job performance and its potential impact on their wages.  But it was hard for them.  After an hour, the job was done.

“Let’s see,” said my oldest, “seven bags times…That’s $21!” he calculated excitedly.

“Really?” I countered.  ”Were each of you involved in every bag?”

“Well, not every bag,” he conceded.  ”But most!”

“By my count, you did five, and the others three at most.”

“What!? That’s so little!  For all that we did?!”

I raised the issue with my wife.

“I understand,” she said.  ”You want them to walk around feeling, ‘Mommy and Tatty do so much for us; what can we do to say thank you?’”

“Yes,” I said.

“We can and should work at that.  But we also have to ask ourselves whether we are vibrating that message,” she offered. “Are we walking around saying, “Hashem, you do so much for us; what can we do for You?’”

Touche.

May we merit to express and thereby inspire much gratitude – both to the Source of all and to His many messengers.

Shabbat Shalom,

Henry Harris

PS: Check out the Aish Gala Silent/Live auction – Online NOW