Because It's a Mitzvah!
by Sarah ZeldmanYou’ve probably heard the old joke that goes: “How many Jewish mothers does it take to change a light bulb?” None: “Don’t worry about me. I’ll just sit here in the dark. It’s not like you care. You never write. You never call…” This joke is based on a common stereotype of Jewish mothers. It portrays Jewish mothers as so wrapped up in the lives of their children that they are selfless to a fault. They sacrifice their own needs for their children’s constantly, until it sometimes seems like the only way they ask for anything is by using “Jewish guilt.” I wonder how this stereotype began, because it certainly is the opposite of what Torah gives us as the picture of the ideal woman. The Eishes Chayil (“woman of valor”) certainly works hard and nurtures her family. However, when we sing about her qualities at the Shabbos table every Friday night, I don’t think anyone gets the image of an exhausted, drained, martyr-mother in their minds. On the contrary, I always picture the Eishes Chayil as the original Supermom. She is a busy-yet-energized wife, mother, businesswoman, and member of her community. Amazingly, she seems to accomplish all of her “labors of love” b’simcha (with joy). “She looks smilingly toward the future… the teaching of kindness is on her tongue…” No martyr-mom here. Perhaps that is why “her children rise and acclaim her. Her husband, he praises her.” So how does this praiseworthy woman manage to “do it all” while apparently keeping a genuine smile on her face? No doubt she gets joy from being completely in tune with Hashem’s will as expressed in the Torah. She knows that her life is significant, meaningful, and purposeful—and that in itself can create simcha. However, the verses give us another clue regarding the source of her simcha even beyond her focus on her life’s mission: “She sews for herself beautiful bed linens and clothes herself in royal fabric.” Notice, she doesn’t run around in the biblical equivalent of an old sweatsuit. She simply treats herself as well as she treats the other people in her life. The “royal fabric” is not about excessive materialism, but about nurturing oneself with beauty to create positive feelings and energy to motivate even more positive behavior. Perhaps that is difference between the Eishes Chayil and the mother in the “light bulb” joke. Both are totally devoted to their children, but the Eishes Chayil also knows her needs, fulfills them, and lives her life b’simcha. Meanwhile, the light-bulb mother neglects herself and feels she has to manipulate others into taking care of her. She ends up “sitting alone in the dark,” surely a metaphor for her own negativity. Indeed, in my experience, I have often found this comparison to ring true in real life. My coaching clients are devoted wives, mothers, and professionals. However, they often have bodies that are chronically exhausted, minds that are constantly distracted, and spirits that are painfully neglected. They are not clinically depressed. They are stressed, overwhelmed, and depleted from taking care of everyone around them—their children, husbands, sometimes parents and friends—but often neglecting to take care of themselves on a regular basis. What I have seen is that women who know how to take the time to “recharge their batteries” burn out much less often, are generally more positive about life, and teach that positivism to their families. On the other hand, women who constantly do and give, without taking sufficient time for self-care and rejuvenation, sooner or later end up burnt out and angry, and struggle with feelings of resentment towards their families and their responsibilities. One of the toughest challenges for my clients is giving themselves permission for self-care. As women, we are often conditioned from an early age to be the caretakers and the nurturers, but we are rarely taught how to nurture ourselves in a balanced way. I have met many women who think, deep down, that they don’t deserve self-care, or, if even they do, that it must be the last thing on their mighty lists of “things to do.” They are afraid that taking time away from their family and other important roles is selfish—even an aveirah (sin)! The Torah disagrees. (And so do I.) Nothing could be further from the truth! If you think you don’t deserve to care for and nurture yourself, you are right. You don’t deserve it; you need it. You don’t have the right to do it; you have the responsibility to do it. You are obligated to take care of yourself in order to fulfill the other mitzvot of the Torah b’simcha! Here, I must confess my background. I am not a Torah scholar. I am not a learned woman. I’m not even “frum from birth.” I am a wife, mother, and baalat teshuva. My expertise is in helping women learn how to integrate more self-care and simcha into their busy lives. But to understand why simcha is important for us as Jews and as women, I must rely on a trusted Torah teacher. My teacher is Rebbetzin Tehilla Jaeger, wife of Rabbi Yisroel Jaeger, the current Rosh Yeshiva of Shor Yushuv. In the tape entitled, “The Mitzvah of Nurturing Oneself” from the “Woman To Woman Inspiration” series, she discusses how the Torah obligates and encourages us to take care of ourselves so that we can have the spiritual, emotional, mental, and physical energy to serve Hashem with joy. She brings several examples from Torah to demonstrate her point and, with her permission, I will share just a few of them with you here. First, Rebbetzin Jaeger explains how vitally important simcha is to living a Torah life. It is not just “a nice thing to work on trying to be happier.” Rather, Torah teaches us that simcha is a vital need that, when fulfilled, releases the full strength of our soul. For example, the Gemara tells us that fear, anxiety, and depression suppress and weaken the power of our neshama (soul). When this happens, we cannot be in touch with real joy because the main strength of our neshama is simcha. That is why our sages tell us that the Shechina (divine presence) cannot settle on a person who is sad. Though they are referring here to a person receiving prophecy, we can also interpret this statement to mean that we cannot feel the presence of G-d in our lives if we are in a state of sadness or depression. Furthermore, the Rambam (Maimonides) says that there are illnesses of the body, and there are illnesses of the soul. A soul without joy is suffering and in a state of ill health. Joy concentrates, unites, and directs all the powers of our soul. And the converse: sadness fragments and disconnects the powers of our soul. There is a passage in Tehillim, where King David says to G-d, Sameach nefesh avdecha—“Please make my soul happy.” He is not asking to become happy because he is hedonistic, but because he knows that without joy he cannot connect to G-d. Rabbi Freifeld, ZT”L, the founder of Shor Yushuv Yeshiva, used to say that our soul needs a diet of certain emotions just like our body needs a diet of certain foods—without which we cannot thrive. Simcha, joy, is absolutely essential for the well-being of our soul. So, how do we create more simcha in our lives? It’s usually not enough to simply “will” ourselves to be happier. Rebbetzin Jaeger explains that Torah teaches us that we must learn to recognize our own individual needs and get them met. First she discusses the passage from Proverbs that says, “Who is a real chassid (person of loving-kindness)? A person who does kindness with himself.” King Solomon is saying here that if you know how to nurture yourself, you will understand that other people need nurturing. But if you deprive yourself of the basic necessities, naturally you will end up being mean to others. (Got that, Mommy?) Next, Rebbetzin Jaeger discusses the saying, “If there is no kemach (flour; meaning, if there’s nothing to eat) there is no Torah.” In other words, if you don’t nourish yourself physically, you will not be able to live the words of the Torah and do it b’simcha, with joy. True joy does come from our neshama, but our soul is housed in our bodies. Only when we are in touch with ourselves and know how to nurture our body and soul, can we really serve Hashem with simcha and bring simcha to our families and our communities. Finally, Rebbetzin Jaeger quotes the Vilna Gaon. Here she takes the liberty of interpreting the Hebrew word ish, meaning man, in the feminine for the purposes of the discussion, because when the Vilna of Gaon wrote this it was clear he was talking about both men and women: “A woman whose mindset is to give, and to do mitzvot, when this woman does something for her own soul, for example when she eats or when she does something pleasurable for herself, this too is also a mitzvah because it is l’sheim shamayim, for the sake of heaven.” In other words, when we nurture ourselves on a physical level, even seemingly neutral activities like eating (or doing aerobics, or painting) become mitzvahs. This is because we are not doing them just to promote our own happiness; rather, we are rejuvenating ourselves so that we can do more mitzvot, and do them b’simcha. It’s clear that our Jewish sources give us ample permission to make the time to take care of ourselves. In fact, the Torah goes beyond giving us permission and teaches us that for there to be Torah in our lives and in our homes, we must learn how to be good to ourselves in a balanced way. To subscribe or order back issues, visit the NJP Shop.
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