The month of Nissan has a special power of renewal. Our sages say that, unlike Elul and Tishrei, in which the teshuvah (repentance) process takes a long period of time, in Nissan we are able to change our course in an instant. Let us utilize this to make us the best people we can be.
A famous section of the Nefesh Hachaim tells us that Adam did not have an internal yetzer hara (evil inclination) before he ate from the Tree of Knowledge. Rather, the nachash (serpent) was the voice of the yetzer hara, coming to Adam from outside him. Once Adam ate from the Tree of Knowledge, the yetzer hara became an internal part of him. In fact, this internalization touched the very core of Adam. From then on, the yetzer hara’s voice would be the voice that would be perceived to be the ‘I’ of the person.
The yetzer hara expresses itself as “I want this” or “I want to do that,” while the voice of our yetzer hatov (good inclination), the voice present in Adam when he was created, now talks to us in the second person: “You should not do this.” It becomes our superego, but not the voice we identify with as the one expressing our desires and longing. Can we strengthen the identification of our “I” – our ani in Hebrew – with our yetzer hatov, which would serve us well in moving forward spiritually?
Inspired by the following dvar Torah, I recently had a sense that this identification with the good in us can be fortified. The beautiful Nishmas prayer we say every Shabbos morning has a perplexing verse near the end. After describing how every organ of the body will praise, or fear, or bow before Hashem, a pasuk is quoted (Psalm 35:10): “All my bones shall say: ‘Hashem, who is like You?’ You save the poor man from one stronger than he, the poor and destitute from one who would rob him.”
Rav Schwab asks, in his discussion of Asher Yatzar in Rav Schwab on Prayer, what the connection is between the first part of the sentence, referring to the parts of the body, and the second part, referring to the protection of the poor.
He says that the second part of the verse can also be interpreted as referring to the body. The larger organs of the body are prevented from stealing the blood, oxygen, and nutrients the smaller, weaker organs of the body require. (In fact there is a syndrome called Subclavian Steal Syndrome, in which there is an abnormality of the blood supply and blood gets ‘stolen’ away from the brain.)
I always found this explanation very interesting, but a few weeks ago I woke up in the morning saying part of that pasuk: “Matzil ani meichazak mimenu (You save the poor from one stronger than he).” And I realized this interpretation has great applicability to my favorite topic, dealing with compulsive eating and other urges of the yetzer hara. And this has helped me to be kinder to myself also.
The urges of our yetzer hara are very strong; it is said that without Hashem’s help we would not be able to overcome them. We can think of ourselves, or our yetzer hatov, in the situation of an ani, a poor or oppressed individual. We need help in defending ourselves against these stronger forces within us that try to steal away our purpose and goals in life.
This thought has made me be kinder to myself. I am trying to prevail over strong forces, and rather than punish myself for succumbing to these forces, I can be more sympathetic to myself.
For example, let’s say I try a new plan to control my appetite and lose weight. I may succeed for a day or two, but then my compulsive eating side kicks in, and I start overeating. My response to this “violation” of the diet plan has been to say that I have to be even more stringent in what I eat. But with this enhanced identification with my yetzer hatov, I realize that my “good side” is trying to adhere to the plan; just because my “bad side” comes and dismantles everything does not mean I then have to punish my good side. I should compliment the good side for standing up to temptation, not punish it for the excesses my yetzer hara brings on.
I have begun to feel more sympathetic to the plight of the ani, the poor self inside trying to do the right thing, rather than castigating it for not being able to resist the strong forces present inside. More than that, I feel I have recaptured some of the sense of self that can be attached to the yetzer hatov, and can identify my ani – the ani spelled with an alef, meaning myself – with the ani spelled with an ayin, the brave but oppressed part of me inside.
In the time of Nissan, this approach may let us move forward in freeing ourselves to do what is right and good for us.