Kung Fu Grip
The “Kung Fu Grip” is the Yetzer’s way of making us hold on tight to all the things that enslave us. But, we can combat the Yetzer with our own weapons…
The purpose of this week’s column is to a) introduce the subject of mussar (Jewish ethics) to you because it is a perfect area of Torah study for people of all nations and b) to show you how lame I am in certain areas to make you feel relatively good about yourself should you decide to embark on some ethical refining of your own. I’m not trying to beat myself up here, but it has been interesting to see how the Evil Inclination has found these nice little perches in my soul from which he does not want to be evicted, at all.
A buddy and I are taking a mussar course together. Mussar means ‘correction’ or ‘instruction’. The class is really an introduction to mussar and what it means to embrace a way of life wherein you are constantly refining and shaping ethical reactions to any given situation. It is an invigorating and fascinating lifetime pursuit so a six week course on the subject just scratches the surface. Each week we focus on a different quality to refine like truthfulness, patience, and moderation. Then we report back to class with tales of glory and failure. Last week’s topic was generosity and the Rabbi instructed us to make it hurt, to get out of the comfort zone.
I know that this one’s a tough-y for me in some ways, so I was excited by the homework. In my defense, it’s not a problem across the board by any means, but there are certain things that are easier for me to share than others. By ‘easier to share’ I mean get out the pliers because you’ll need them to release my kung fu grip on let’s say for example, my wardrobe. To contrast, my husband is the kind of person who most of the time leaves the last bite for someone else, even if it means it might go in the trash because it sat in the casserole dish getting old. I noticed this quality about him early on in our relationship and it made me want to marry him. See how powerful mussar is?
I get an email from a friend that says a family in the area has lost everything they own in a tornado and they have three little ones. A great opportunity for generosity dropped into my email box. “No problem!” I exclaim. It turns out that she’s my pre-pregnancy size so she will fit in all the clothes I’ve been saving for no good reason. That’s a lie. I saved them because looking stylish makes me happy. I know it’s shallow but it’s the truth. If I’m in a foul mood and my husband says, “Why don’t you go shopping?” the clouds part, sun beams lead the way to my car, and I go and have fun.
So it comes time to go through my son’s and my clothes to put these bags together, the bags of pain, big sad bags of clothes I want to hoard like a greedy troll. That’s how strongly the Yetzer Hora has a grip on me in this department. I know that this woman is living in someone else’s home in a bunch of probably ugly clothes someone gave her, having lost every material possession and I don’t want to give her clothes I never wear. Worse, cannot wear. And these are stylish, costly clothes that I’m pretty sure would make her smile and feel cute at a time when she desperately needs a lift. And I know, God willing, that I can replace these and that God wants me to share. I know that God gives us stuff so we can distribute the stuff.
I get out the giant IKEA bag and start going through the piles. I had to actually yell out loud to myself to put them in the ‘out box’. “Arghh! Do it! Alice, put it in the bag! Now. Now. That one too. Do it woman! No. Go back get that one too. Do it!”
I kid you not. It was not fun and it was actually making me feel blue. The Yetzer was trying to tell me that I was never going to be good looking again. You’ll never fit in that size again if you give those away. You’ll never have the money to buy those again. She might not like them anyway, then what? He was pulling out all the stops.
So I start to go through my son’s clothes. He doesn’t care what he wears at all. It’s dreamy. Because I seize that opportunity to create my dream baby wardrobe for him and make sure he’s always coordinated and dapper. I really enjoy dressing up my handsome little man. And I don’t want to give his clothes away either! So I go through his clothes and start putting them in the bag. The Yetzer Hora starts in again with his lecture.
“Alice, should you really be giving away someone else’s clothes? Is that what you call generous?”
“Yes!”
“You’re going to make him cry. Picture that. Jake is crying and he’s going to look shabby and slovenly in his bad fashion.”
“He doesn’t care! But I really like that shirt….”
“Yup, it’s cute especially with his brown eyes.”
Then war was declared. I decided, by the grace of Hashem, to rip off the band-aid instead of pulling it off hair by hair. Two seconds to deliberate over each item max and it’s in the bag. And then it started getting fun. Dash across the room for some toys, pull open some drawers for some diapers, cute pajamas for the little guy, books from the office, accessories for the mom, coloring books…
Then Hashem started going fast. Next day, bonus for hubby which pays for another project. Day after day it keeps happening. I pay out, Hashem makes a deposit. In the end we adopted a five-week-old kitten our friend found while out for a walk. She’s a puff of fluffy smoke with sky blue eyes, drinks from a tiny bottle, and attacks Jake’s blankey like a lioness taking down a gazelle. Now we are teaching a two-year-old about how one can be too generous when ‘pedding’ the ‘kattin’.
I’m not some super spiritual Torah giant who can explain to you how Hashem works. I can share, humbly, that attacking this flaw with honesty and vigor was apparently a good way to get started. I really felt Hashem running right next to me once I committed to it. But I had to act like a fool and yell into the closet, so be ready to humble yourself and make sure you ask Hashem to hold the bag for you while you fill it. And actually get it to the needy. That helps too.
So every day this week I have to tell you Hashem seemed to drop something in my lap to make it easier on me, which shows how much He loves me and it makes me really love Him even more. And it shows how generous He is. Get it?
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