Cultivating Courage

A Perfect World

What if the life we live is just fantasy, a landslide with no escape from our perceived reality? What if there is more to life than the “selfie” and perfect posts with which we flood our social media feeds? Most of us desire to live a good life, but how many of us actually take steps to make our lives meaningfully enjoyable?

The Rayatz, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn, asks us to imagine such a life, a perfect reality in which all of Creation exists in complete harmony. The verse tells us: “I have come to My garden, My sister, My bride.” Our Sages explain that in this context, G-d was not speaking about any garden, as if He were a visitor, but instead about His garden — as if to emphasize a deep attachment to that place. This initial garden was the place in which G-d’s presence was able to dwell freely within the finite universe. Harmony was able to permeate within this space because all of reality was unified.

Creating us in His likeness — of free will and creativity — G-d, however, took a chance on us. The first humans, Adam and Eve, sent G-d’s presence one rung away from this space when they made the mistake of eating from the Tree of Knowledge, from which G-d had cautioned them to abstain. Cain distanced it further when he chose to murder his brother, Abel. Enosh distanced it yet again. After being pushed seven layers away from this realm, one individual, Abraham, broke the cycle. Instead of pushing outward, he chose to pull inward. He cultivated the courage to look beyond his current reality and find hidden potentials and meaningful moments within a world filled with idolatry and? immorality. Following in Abraham’s footsteps, his son, Isaac, brought G-d’s presence another degree closer. So did Jacob. Finally, seven generations later, after constructing the Tabernacle in the desert, Moses and those of us who left the shackles of Egyptian slavery brought G-d’s presence back down to where it had initially dwelled upon the creation of the finite universe.

“The” Place

The Tabernacle was not just any place — it was the place. It was the space within finite reality where G-d’s presence could feel most comfortable, a residence He had envisioned from the onset of Creation. The verses describing the construction of the Tabernacle, however, are odd. G-d did not tell the Jewish People to build a Tabernacle so that He could dwell within it, but instead, so that He could rest within them. G-d desired to reside within each of us because we are each a walking Tabernacle. We are each a vessel for this powerfully inspiring experience, despite the environments in which we live, which may seem void of that potential. The incident of the golden calf-idol occurred just prior to our charge of creating this temporary, sacred space, but who is to say we could not create this new reality, despite that episode? We each have within us unique tools to transform our collective jungle into a beautiful garden.

What happens, however, when we do not feel so capable, when we feel the cold of winter and cannot see the garden buried beneath the snow; the times when it is easier to stay wrapped up beneath the warm linens of our bed than it is to pick ourselves up and be productive?

Cultivating Courage

It is easy to become excited about a project or deadline when we can see the finish line in the distance and when the crowds are cheering our name from the sidelines. But sometimes greatness is not the ability to? finish the race as much as it is the ability to begin training before we even set foot on the course.

Tu B’Shevat celebrates cultivating courage, believing in ourselves even when we doubt our capabilities. It is the celebration of G-d’s garden and the realization that we have the ability to reveal and enhance it, however daunting the task. Tu B’Shevat is the call to build a Tabernacle “down here,” even though our finite consciousness convinces us that G-d more appropriately belongs “over there.”

The Shem MiShmuel, Rabbi Shmuel of Sochotchov, points out a seemingly mundane truism: Even if we were to lose all of our money, we could eventually try earning it back through new business ventures. By contrast, if we were to lose our courage, we would lose everything. He refers to our Sages’ teaching that Rahab and Jethro were motivated to turn from their immoral ways and become great because of their courage and inner strength. What did Rahab, an infamous prostitute, possess that enabled her to eventually merit marrying Joshua, the leader of her generation? What worthiness did Jethro hold that qualified him to father Tzipporah, who merited marrying Moses, the leader of the generation and greatest prophet in our history? Perhaps we can understand Rahab and Jethro having made peace with their pasts, but could we ever expect that they would merit to join such illustrious families?

Resilience

We always read about the episode of the splitting of the Reed Sea in close proximity to Tu B’Shevat because it also took courage to cross the Sea, to walk into the raging waters even before they had split.

Redemption, explains the Shem MiShmuel, comes from our resilience to face the impossible. This is why we immediately sang: “G-d is my?strength and my song, and will be my salvation” after crossing the Reed Sea. This strength inspired Ruth to choose to leave her former life as a princess of Moab and begin a life of sanctity and meaning in the Holy Land with her mother-in-law, Naomi. And it is also what empowers us to take leave from the sanctity of Shabbos each Saturday night and enter into the unknown week that lies ahead.

The Baal Shem Tov, Rabbi Yisrael ben Eliezer, teaches that as long as a collection of ashes has a spark buried somewhere within, we can always rekindle its fire at any moment — and, even if there is no spark to begin with, we can generate a new flame if we so desire. We each have a spark within ourselves, waiting to be ignited. We may find ourselves in the dead of winter with no garden in sight, but we can cultivate the courage to take the first steps to begin planting a new garden regardless.

By attuning ourselves to our true self buried within, and by answering our unique calling, we can bring our offering to the tabernacle, our garden, that we make in this world.

The redemption of Passover will come, but crossing that finish line begins now: in the cold, in the dark, and when we cannot see the buds emerging on the trees. We can go into the Sea as individuals even before the waters have neatly split for us as a collective. Tu B’Shevat is the courage to take that first step and give it our all.

An excerpt from Expanding Potential by Jonah SC Muskat-Brown, BEd, MSW