Stop Running From Yourself
We all have parts of ourselves that we love; the pieces that feel easy, smooth, and clear. And then there are the parts we struggle with; the ones we’d rather hide. At times, even from ourselves.
Chassidus describes these two dimensions as the sheep and the struggler, Rachel and Leah.
Rachel is the part of us that’s pristine, uncomplicated, idealistic, like the gentle white ewe whose name she carries. Leah is the part that is weary and wrestling, the part that is trying so hard to tame what refuses to stay polished.
To be leaders, whether in our homes, in our community, and/or in our own souls, we must be honest about who we are. Because wherever you run… you bring yourself along.
And here’s the paradox:
It’s the very act of wrestling with our “demons” that shapes us into who we’re meant to become.
We read the story of Yaakov marrying Leah and Rochel. The Midrash sets the scene:
It was Yaakov’s wedding night and he believed he was marrying Rachel, the woman he had worked seven long years for. However, beneath the veil stood Leah, trembling yet determined, following her father’s plan. All night she carried the role perfectly.
When morning came, Yaakov, stunned to see Leah beside him, cries out: “Leah?! Daughter of a deceiver! Why did you trick me?”
Leah looked at him softly and answered: “Who taught me to do this? When your father asked, ‘Are you my son Esav?’ didn’t you answer, ‘I am Esav, your firstborn’? Don’t you teach your students that whatever a person does eventually comes back to them?”
The words hit him, yet but beneath them was a message even deeper:
“Yaakov, you think you’re marrying Rachel, the perfect, innocent version of yourself. But before you reach that part, you must meet me. The struggler. The part of you that confronts the world, the Esav-energy you’ve been afraid to acknowledge. My eyes are weary because I’m struggling to do the hard inner work. I can help you do yours, only if you admit that these parts of you exist and must be refined.”
Leah’s very name means weary. Because doing the real inner work is draining…yet, it’s also the path to your deepest power.
Chassidus teaches that Esav had the potential to be a thousand times greater than Yaakov, if only he had done the work.
We often picture holiness as smooth, clean, angelic perfection. Torah teaches the opposite. Greatness is the one who falls and gets up again. The one who keeps walking. The one who doesn’t hide their imperfections, but transforms them into purpose.
That is Leah. That is the soul. That is us.
There’s a story I love:
A king owned a breathtaking diamond. One day it slipped from his hands and was scarred with a deep scratch. Jewelers from across the world tried to repair it and all failed. Finally, a simple pauper said he could help. He didn’t remove the scratch at all. Instead, he etched a rose around it, using the scratch as the stem. The flaw became the foundation of beauty.
This is the work of Leah. The work of the soul. The work we are each called to do.
May we embrace our inner Leah and acknowledge our struggles with honesty and courage. May we turn our scratches into roses. May we uncover the beauty hiding inside the parts of ourselves we’ve been afraid to face.
Have a deep, meaningful Shabbos.
Rabbi Kushi Schusterman
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