Parshas Beshalach 5786
The Jewish People embark on the great Exodus from Mitzrayim and are led along a circuitous route in doing so. The pesukim relate that Hashem specifically guided the people away from the realm of the Plishtim, understanding that, should they be confronted by that people in war, they may well have second thoughts about the whole enterprise of leaving Egypt in the first place.
The Torah records Hashem’s concern as, “פֶּן־יִנָּחֵם הָעָם בִּרְאֹתָם מִלְחָמָה וְשָׁבוּ מִצְרָיְמָה—Lest the nation reconsider upon seeing war and return to Egypt”. (Shemos 13:17) A reasonable enough consideration, but, upon a closer look, one expressed in a puzzling manner. The term used, “ושבו מצרימה—V’shavu Mitzraimah”, doesn’t meant that the people will return to Egypt, in the future tense. Rather, it means that the people have returned to Egypt, in the past tense.
The Torah seems to be describing something akin to teleportation. That the moment the fear of battle and the misgivings of having left Mitzrayim took root, the Jewish People had already returned to their place of origin. That Hashem’s concern was not that they would return to Egypt, but that they would already have done so. How is that possible?
Rabbi Shmuel Gutman in Otzar Chaim offers an intriguing suggestion, explaining that, in truth, a person can find himself enslaved in one of two ways. He can either be acted upon by an outside force, shackling him against his will. Or he can accept those shackles all of his own accord.
Hence, the Jewish People would indeed already have returned to Mitzrayim—have returned to slavery—the moment they regretted their exit from it. They would have adopted the limiting belief that freedom was too much for them, that their shoulders were not broad enough to accept the new yoke of liberation they suddenly found cast upon them. And in that moment of mental retreat from freedom back to slavery, in that moment of abandoning the opportunity and promise of liberty, they would already have returned to the slavery Mitzrayim.
Henry Ford is purported to have said that, “Whether you think you can or think you can’t, you’re right.” Ability is often nothing more than the manifestation of belief. Believe that a goal is achievable, and it is. Believe it is beyond reach, and it will remain so. Believe that you are capable of living a life free unbridled by your previous oppressor, and you will. Believe that that vision of freedom was a delusion of grandeur, and you have already re-enslaved yourself.
In the end, the Jewish People avoided the land of the Plishtim, avoided the specter of war, and did not second-guess the decision to head out into the Midbar. But it is wholly unsettling to realize that as they emerged from Egypt, it was not only the Egyptians that the Jews would need to be saved from. There was yet another enemy who could just as easily have forced them back into slavery. Themselves.
For most of us, it is that second enemy that is far more prevalent and the one that needs far greater attention to overcome. Even when external oppressors have fallen by the wayside and have left clear a path of freedom and success, the nagging internal voice prodding us to reconsider if we’ve gotten in over our heads and are really not cut out for this remains an active threat. How do we vanquish it?
The precise stance of the Jewish People themselves in this moment is edifying. Hashem had predicted that if faced with war, they would have doubted the entire enterprise of Yetzias Mitzrayim and return to both a psychological and physical state of slavery. But why? To the objective bystander it’s perplexing. This is a People who have already been saved from far worse than the Plishtim; they had, after all, witnessed the disintegration of the mighty Egyptian empire before their very eyes. Why assume that they would suffer any less fortuitous a fate at the hand of the Plishtim? Why be scared off at all?
There is no great answer other than the reality of the human condition. Even when faced with challenges we have previously overcome in some similar iteration, fear and anxiety bubble up from within us, fill our heads with doubt, and leave us handcuffed in a state of psychological servitude.
The path to overcoming it all is to abide by the exact advice we would have given our ancestors had they actually come face to face with the menacing Plishtim. Namely, to draw from their past successes to construct a more likely narrative of what was to come in the future. Through Divine Providence and their own agency, the Jewish People had emerged safe from Mitzrayim. There was, in truth, no rational reason to believe that an encounter with the Plishtim would end any differently.
And so it is for us. While in the grip of limiting beliefs, in the shadow of overwhelm, in the clutches of imposter syndrome, to pause and to remember that in most instances, “I’ve been here before, and I’ve been successful. I’ve worked my way through a never-ending to-do list, I’ve buckled down and accomplished what I’ve needed to, I’ve pulled the all-nighter when necessary, I’ve exhibited empathy towards others even in the face of my own emotional needs. I can do this.”
When we face the battle-ready Plishtim, we recoil in a tizzy. “I knew I was in over my head.” But a deep breath and mental perusal of our very own resume can help construct a very different narrative. “This is just another step in my journey, and I’ve successfully taken similar steps before.”
So much of life is defined by our attitude. And in that regard, we can either be our own greatest advocate or our own worst enemy. Permit the limiting belief to take root, and our freedom to succeed has already been suppressed, without any external enemy needed. “Shavu Mitzraimah—We will already have returned to Egyptian slavery.” But draw on past experiences to realistically predict future success, and we’ll have done ourselves the greatest service imaginable. We’ll have set ourselves free from the subjugation of our own small thinking.