"Thou Mayest"

If you are reading this (and living outside of Israel), it means you have successfully made it through not one, not two, but THREE, three-day yom tovs.  Amazing!

Is anyone else ready for Cheshvan?!

In all seriousness, despite feeling a bit relieved to resume my normal life routine, I truly did enjoy the chaggim this year.  Simchat Torah gave me a much-needed energy boost at the end as we celebrated finishing, and restarting, the reading of the Torah.  I found myself eager to get back to the rich narrative of Bereishit, and excited by the possibility of discovering new teachings in the familiar text of the Torah.  This past Shabbat I heard a dvar Torah that reaffirmed my belief that there is always, always, something new to learn in Torah.

In his dvar, the speaker focused on the Hebrew word, timshol (תמשל), found in Bereishit 4:7.  Speaking to Cain, Hashem warns him that if he changes his ways and repents, he'll be forgiven, but if he doesn't, "sin rests at the door."  The verse concludes with the words, v'atah timshol-bo (ואתה תמשל–בו), which, depending on how the word תמשל is translated, can mean any of the following:

"thou shalt conquer [sin]"
"do thou conquer [sin]"
"thou can conquer [sin]"
"thou mayest conquer [sin]"

The speaker then referenced East of Eden, by John Steinbeck, as a means of exploring the subtle yet critical differences in these translations.  In that story, the characters come across two different translations for תמשל--thou shalt, and do thou.  Convinced that there must be a definitive ruling on the word, the characters investigate further and delve into the Hebrew language until arriving at the translation, thou mayest.  Regarding the implications of this, one character says the following:

"The American Standard translation orders men to triumph over sin, and you can call sin ignorance.  The King James translation makes a promise in 'Thou shalt,' meaning that men will surely triumph over sin.  But the Hebrew word timshel--'Thou mayest'--that gives a choice.  It might be the most important word in the world.  That says the way is open.  That throws it right back on a man.  For if 'Thou mayest'--it is also true that 'Thou mayest not.'  Don't you see?"

This character goes on to argue that the ability to choose--"thou mayest"--is what makes human beings great.  When it is a sure thing ("thou shalt") or a command ("do thou"), neither one of those leaves any room for human agency.  But when doing the right thing is a choice, one that we must actively select and pursue, that makes us responsible for using our precious gift of free will--something that (arguably) no other creatures on earth can do.

This idea really resonates with me as it relates to recovery.  When I was in my first round of intensive treatment for my eating disorder, I heard a lot of, "You'll definitely recover," "You're going to beat this," and "You'll be fine."  These messages were reassuring, but also a bit confusing:  I certainly did not FEEL ready to recover, but here were all these people telling me that I WOULD, so maybe it was inevitable?  If I just hung in there long enough, maybe it would just...happen?

This is not to say that I didn't actively pursue recovery, but I do think there were times when I was lulled into complacency because I believed that, in the end, I would magically pull it together and full recovery would happen no matter what.  So what if I didn't exactly follow my meal plan, or if I skipped a snack here and there?  I was going to recover anyway.  It wasn't until years later that I realized...no.  Recovery is not a guarantee, nor is it a mandate.  If I wanted it, I had to choose it...and I had to do more than just choose it mentally.  I then had to make the actual behavior changes that would move me toward that choice.  Ironically, in order for me to make "I may recover" a reality, I had to understand that "I may not recover" was the equally viable alternative.  Was that scary, and less reassuring than a guarantee of success?  For sure.  But it was also empowering, because as I have accepted responsibility for my own recovery, the success has become mine--not something that happens to me, but something I make happen.

I believe that recovery can be ours, that Hashem does give us all the tools we need to reach it...but I also believe He gives us free will, which means that the decision to use those tools rests in our hands alone.  If we choose recovery, Hashem will support us every step of the way...but He can't make that choice for us, and neither can our family, friends, or doctors, no matter how much they might want to.

As Steinbeck says, "the way is open."  Thou mayest.  So...how will you choose recovery this year?