When Being Becomes Becoming
When Being Becomes Becoming
Parshas Emor: Choice, and the future self
We all have choices to make. More so now than in any other period of history. Our age emphasises authenticity, individual autonomy, and personal meaning, yet paradoxically, the array of available choices makes it harder to choose. We are often left paralysed, lost and overwhelmed by a bombardment of endless options. In particular, this is true regarding decisions that profoundly shape our lives.
I have recently been studying the laws of Shabbos. At the moment, I am focusing on Hilchos Borer, which prohibits the separation of undesirables from desirables in a mixture of types. This makes it a particularly instructive analogy for the dynamics of choice. Since the opening instruction of this week's Parsha is to 'guard and preserve Shabbos', it is an excellent opportunity to put some of my thoughts on the subject into writing.
It's fascinating that Borer is unlike nearly all other Shabbos prohibitions. How so? As a general rule, Shabbos laws restrict creative acts. For example, one may not light a fire or build a wall. Borer, however, appears to be out of sync with this overarching trend. It seems little new has come about by merely selecting one item from another. Rabbi Aharon Lopiansky suggests we learn here that an individual who engages in choice is indeed undertaking a creative pursuit. My goal is to develop his proposal further.
In his writings, Kierkegaard, a profound thinker, asks us to imagine ourselves perched on a cliff edge. We've all experienced that gripping sinking sensation in the pit of our stomachs as we peer over the precipice and contemplate the sheer drop below. Of course, this sensation can be partially attributed to a fear of heights. But Kierkegaard thinks there is more to it. He believes this anxiety is rooted in the overwhelming realisation of our power to choose - that if one wished, he could end his own life by throwing himself into the abyss below. Our underlying inability to act decisively in our daily lives is a reflection of this subconscious understanding.
Whether you take Kierkegaard at his word or not, the anxiety of choice can be attributed to perpetual rumination over our future selves. We know major decisions we make now will define us for the rest of our lives. And this knowledge is daunting. We fret about where we will live, who we will work for, who we will marry, what we will know, our eventual spiritual level and how much we will accomplish. The list is endless. It's like having an infinite number of roads to choose from, each with an unknown destination, where fear of going the wrong way immobilises us.
Yet could it be we give too much weight to this future version of ourselves? The imagined future persona envisioned in our minds is not real. In fact, it will likely never exist. Our true potential self can manifest in an infinite number of ways. There is no way of knowing who we will become. And though we hate to contemplate the fragility of our mortal lives, there is not even a guarantee of our long-term physical existence. I am not coming to diminish the utility of plans and preparations. Instead, I'm putting into better perspective the energy and worries we expend on something that does not yet exist. A trusted friend once remarked that we should worry as much about who we will be in thirty years as what we're having for breakfast tomorrow. Something deserving our attention. But not all of it.
What if the future self is a distraction? A diversion from confronting who we are in the present. Perhaps excessive ruminating on this future persona is just a panacea we swallow to ignore our ever-present, unrelenting inner struggle. Judaism doesn't believe in neutral decisions. Kabbalistic thought emphasises how every act we perform serves as either a force for righteousness or an agent of evil. When we obsess over what happens next, we lose focus on who we can be at this moment.
Ironically, while we grasp future projections as tangible realities, we forget to take stock of what lies beneath our feet—the solid ground of our existence. We simply don't appreciate the concreteness of what we can be right now. A key takeaway from Rabb Shneur Zalman Liadi's Tanya is that we can redefine ourselves as righteous, wicked or intermediary at any given moment. Yet, if we get swept up in a myriad of possibilities, we relinquish our only certainty. The ability to choose in real-time by focusing on what's in front of us—actively deciding right and wrong:
This is the ultimate creative pursuit - an act of self-creation.
In light of what we have been discussing so far, I would like to develop an idea from Rav Mendel Weinbach on the following Talmudic passage:
“Every Shavuot (the day we celebrate receiving the Torah), Rav Yosef would make a festive meal and proclaim, “If not for this day, how many Yosefs would there be in the marketplace?”
{Pesachim 68b}
Rav Weinbach suggests we can understand Rav Yosefs rhetorical proclamation as referring to himself. Rav Yosef meant that if not for Torah, there would be many versions of Yosefs' out there. He'd be a fragmented personality, pursuing different goals every day. Torah gave him grounding, purpose and stability.
What would have caused Rav Yosef's fragmented personality? And how did the Torah help him stay grounded? We may suggest that personal fragmentation can occur when one is overly focused on what he might become. This future self is actually an infinite number of future selves, each with different goals and wants. But the Torah can provide an anchoring device. How so? Torah is unique among mitzvahs in that God expects us 'to toil' in it. In other words, the goal is not just acquiring Torah knowledge for the future but total immersion in the present act of learning. By truly toiling in Torah, one situates himself in the present.
Our sages parallel Shabbos with the world to come. Prepare on Friday, they tell us, so that you may eat on Shabbos. On Shabbos, creative deeds are outlawed. Things must remain as they are. So to, we won't be capable of forging anything new in the world to come. Choice, as we have seen, is a powerful act of creation. There will come a time when we will no longer be able to choose. Then we will stand in front of our creator, the reality of our souls laid bare. Let's choose to create ourselves now. Our being must become our becoming.
Good Shabbos, and Keep Pondering!
Deep. Actually provoking self awareness of/at the present moment
sorry then