Parshas Bo 5782
Abraham Lincoln once said, “Give me six hours to chop down a tree, and I will spend the first four sharpening the axe.”
Which is why staying inside is so important. The knee-jerk reaction to the launch of nationhood is to go out and do. To build institutions, public works, and get important communal projects up off the ground. Meetings should be held about the sort of infrastructure the new nation will need, fundraising efforts ought to be undertaken, and anyone who sees himself as a mover or shaker should assist in the crafting of a strategic plan for the future.
Yet the Torah has other ideas.
וּלְקַחְתֶּם אֲגֻדַּת אֵזוֹב וּטְבַלְתֶּם בַּדָּם אֲשֶׁר־בַּסַּף וְהִגַּעְתֶּם אֶל־הַמַּשְׁקוֹף וְאֶל־שְׁתֵּי הַמְּזוּזֹת מִן־הַדָּם אֲשֶׁר בַּסָּף וְאַתֶּם לֹא תֵצְאוּ אִישׁ מִפֶּתַח־בֵּיתוֹ עַד־בֹּקֶר׃
שמות יב:כב
And you shall take a bundle of hyssop and dip it in the blood that is in the basin. And you shall apply some of the blood in the basin to the lintel and the two doorposts. And no one shall exit the portal of his home until the morning.
Shemos 12:22
Don’t leave your house. ֵ Don’t look outward; look inward. Despite all there is to do publicly as the nation is first launched, consider first your personal life, your family life. Be sure that you’re fundamentally sound as a person before you attempt to serve as a leader. Don’t go about chopping down trees with a dull axe.
Self-care has gotten a lot of attention in recent years, perhaps originating with Stephen Covey’s popularization of the idea in his seminal, “The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People.” In a riff on Abraham Lincoln’s words quoted above, Covey named the seventh habit, “Sharpening the Saw,” emphasizing the importance of self-renewal in four major areas of life: physical, mental, spiritual, and relationships. In Covey’s words, the purpose is “preserving and enhancing the greatest asset you have–you.”
Too often we find ourselves running on empty. We give and produce and provide until there’s nothing left in the tank. It’s important to remember that running ourselves ragged is rife with inefficiency, not valor. We don’t create the same results when we’re operating from a place of exhaustion and weakened spirit. If we make time for self-renewal, we can produce at a more optimal level. By caring for ourselves we can more adequately care for everyone else.
So the Torah instructs the fledgling nation to, before all, charge the batteries. Spend time with your closest family members and friends. Eat a meal together. Count your blessings. Reflect on the Divine Providence you’ve already experienced and all that still lays ahead. Before you swing the axe at its first tree, spend the time necessary to properly sharpen it.
Self-care can become confused with self-indulgence. They are not the same.
But be careful. Because the pendulum can also swing too far in the other direction. Sharpening the Saw as a habit of effectiveness has gotten so much traction that it’s even come to serve as a justification for grandiose allowances. Under the guise of self-care we can fall headlong into an abyss of self-interest, turning a blind eye to the needs of others all in the name of keeping ourselves sharp. We can justify hedonism as necessary for self-care. We can set goals that fall woefully short of what we can actually achieve because we’ve confused staying sharp with being pampered.
Self-care can become confused with self-indulgence. They are not the same.
Consider the content of what Hashem has us do as we spend that first night of nationhood huddled inside for a “staycation.” We connect with family members and connect with Hashem. We eat foods not only that are deeply symbolic and lead us to meditate over key values and experiences necessary for our spiritual development. How do we emerge in the morning? More refined and holy than when we first closed the door.
The Torah’s recipe for successful self-care is about more than aged meat and fine wine, about bucket-lists and “YOLO” moments. The Torah instructs us to sharpen the axe so that we can go about chopping wood, not so that we can place it above the mantel and revel in its beauty. Self-care must bring us closer to the ability to properly and effectively achieve our goals. When self-care becomes the goal itself, it’s no longer self-care. It’s self-indulgence.
This means that we should enter into a round of self-care with a bit of forethought. Where is it that we feel depleted? What aspect of our lives could use a pick-me-up? What purpose is this getaway meant to serve?
Dinner out with your spouse can be a boon to your marriage. Making a conscious effort to get more sleep may be a critical step in preserving your help and resting your mind. Taking a vacation can afford you the ability to step away from the daily grind and think more expansively about life and your priorities. Each of these efforts is a worthwhile exercise in self-care. But it’s critical that we keep in mind what they are meant to achieve, lest we confuse the process for the goal itself.
Swinging the axe until there’s nothing left but a dull knob of a handle is an act of foolishness, not heroism. If we push ourselves to the brink in the interest of “giving it our all” we’re likely giving far less than our all. Running on fumes is no way to give, provide, or produce. And yet we need to be mindful that self-care is a means, not an end. The Torah invites us to close the door to the outside world from time to time. But we should be careful to use that time effectively—to renew and recharge with purpose. When we open the door, we can and should be better people than when we first closed it.