More immediate for most of us than the problem of evil in the world is the problem of triviality. Many times during an average day our attention is grabbed away by things we know to be of almost no consequence. Thus, when we are finally able to steal a few minutes of time for something of real value, we hold these moments to be almost sacred. We try to protect these moments by secluding ourselves away from others, from our phones and all other sorts of “noise.”
Perhaps the most important reason I take weekly walks in the nearby forest is to find that solitude which, in turn, facilitates introspection and inspiration. As a result, when I encounter pesky trail flies, it is hard to contain my annoyance.
On a recent walk in the forest, I was bothered by such a fly which refused to be swatted away. Eventually he left me alone, but not before I realized that this fly was actually reinforcing a great truth about personal growth found in Sefer Bereshit.
We find that of the three patriarchs, the most successful one was the one who encountered the most distractions and annoyances. Whereas Avraham commanded a certain amount of respect from his neighbors and Yitzchak was able to lead a somewhat sheltered life, Ya’akov went from one problem in his life to another, with nary a break to completely regain his equilibrium. Yet Ya’akov is the patriarch that reached the pinnacle of the early Biblical period by combining the strengths of both his father and grandfather and raising all thirteen of his children to follow in his footsteps.
While one might say that his greatness was in spite of annoying distractions, I would suggest that his greatness was precisely because of them. The person who truly grows is the one who can be involved in profound matters even when he is checking out at the supermarket, driving down the highway or putting the baby to sleep – and even when the cashier makes a mistake, another car cuts in front of him or the baby is crying.
The sages point out that we should not leave that which is worthwhile for a time when we are less busy. If we do, we lose the minutes that we could have salvaged even while we were busy. Over the course of an hour, that may amount to a few minutes, over the course of a day it may amount to an hour or two, but over the course of a lifetime, it amounts to several years. On the practical level alone, the sages are telling us that several years of our lives are made up of five minutes here and five minutes there. Were these “available” years to be uninterrupted, any spiritually serious person would jump at the opportunity to use them for inner growth.
But there is something even beyond the practical benefit of maximizing our time. To hope for fewer distractions, or to seclude oneself in an ivory tower creates, a detached spirituality. There is a time and place for this type of seclusion but it is not to be our main diet. Since such detached spirituality is not what G-d has made available to most people, it cannot the spirituality that He wants from us.
Life has always been full of distractions. For much of history, providing the basic necessities of life was more labor-intensive and so involved more time. The modern world may involve less such labor but has replaced it with the clutter of countless activities in its place. Today just making dinner involves a host of micro-decisions that can take just as much time as if we had to grind the wheat into flour, build the fire etc. For the spiritually oriented person, this may be the greatest challenge.
Flies are here to remind us that life is meant to be full of distractions and that our challenge is to grow between and even during them. We are certainly allowed to swat the flies away. But we must also realize that the way to grow in this world is to do so even when the flies are buzzing around. Thus, we are allowed to seek quiet time in which to truly grow, but we must realize that if we make it the only time in which to grow, we will have missed a great deal.
Of course, making the most of these trivialities can take many different forms. Sometimes it means just appreciating an inconsequential moment and at other times it means appreciating the lack of import of a particular trivial event. And still on other occasions, it means ignoring what we are involved with and putting our minds to matters of greater consequence. What is common to all these ways of encountering the trivia of our existence, however, is the realization that, in life, there is no such thing as a true disturbance.
