Three doses of inspiration to lift the spirit and soul

Inner Peace

Personal Development

Rebbetzin Dina Schoonmaker, facilitated by Mindel Kassorla

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hen we think of “good middos,” many familiar ones come to mind: simchah, anavah, emes, sameach b’chelko. A lesser-known and less-often discussed middah is hishtavus — from the root shaveh, meaning “equal.”

Hishtavus refers to a state of equanimity, the ability to maintain an inner sense of equilibrium. The Chovos HaLevavos (Shaar Yichud Hamaaseh ch. 5) illustrates this with an anecdote: one chassid asks another, “Have you achieved hishtavus? Are criticism and praise the same to you?”

Naturally, we tend to feel elevated by compliments and deflated by critique. But the Chovos HaLevavos teaches that it’s possible to reach a level where both positive and negative feedback are “equal” to us, meaning, they don’t move us in any significant way. This is the litmus test of hishtavus.

True hishtavus comes from deep self-awareness. When a person genuinely knows both his strengths and his weaknesses, praise doesn’t reveal anything new, and misplaced praise is meaningless. In the same vein, when criticism is untrue, it doesn’t register because he knows it is false. Even when criticism is accurate, it may be uncomfortable, but it’s not distressing; it’s simply a reminder of something we know we can work on.

Imagine a woman with a beautiful voice who is fully aware of her talent. When someone tells her she sang beautifully, she can appreciate the compliment, but it doesn’t change her self-perception. If, after a strong performance, someone offers a harsh criticism, she isn’t shaken; she remains secure in her understanding of who she is — and who she isn’t.

That same woman may be less gifted in another area, such as art. If she paints something amateur and someone calls it a “masterpiece,” the compliment won’t send her soaring. And if her art teacher points out where she needs to improve, the critique may not be pleasant, yet it isn’t destabilizing.

Reaching this level isn’t simple, but we can start small. When we receive praise or criticism and notice our mood shift, we can pause and ask: Is this bringing anything new to my attention? What does my reaction teach me about my own awareness of my strengths and weaknesses? With self-honesty, we can gradually move toward true hishtavus.

Rebbetzin Dina Schoonmaker has been teaching in Michlalah Jerusalem College for over 30 years. She gives women’s vaadim and lectures internationally on topics of personal development.

He’s on the Way

Around the Campfire

Mindel Kassorla

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ni Maamin… b’vias haMashiach…

It was a hot Shabbos morning and I don’t know what got into me, but I announced to my four-year-old, “Let’s go meet Daddy at shul!” We made our way there, but due to some dawdling along the way, we got to shul just after it had ended.

Now how was I supposed to know if my husband had already left, or if he had yet to come out? We waited… 5… 10… 15 minutes. I didn’t see him. The men who had remained had already sat down in the kiddush room and were listening to a derashah from the rav. Was my husband in there or was he waiting for us at home?

The heat was unbearable, but not as heavy as the doubt; should I leave or not? I became increasingly irritable toward my daughter, who wanted to know when we were going to see Daddy. Annoyed and thirsty, I kept craning my neck to see if I could spot him inside the kiddush room… and then — yes! I got a glimpse of his joyful smile behind his bushy beard.

For the next 20 minutes or so, I happily entertained my daughter, with the confidence that we’d soon surprise my husband.

I’ve often wondered what it means to believe “every day that Mashiach will come,” to live my life, “b’chol yom sheyavo.” If I’m not assuming he’ll walk through the door today, at this very moment, is that a problem? What’s expected of me, and how do I do it?

That morning I understood.

I don’t know if Mashiach is coming today, but I’m looking out for him. And here and there, when I get a glimpse of my loving Father’s Hand in my life, it reminds me that the promise is alive and that he is coming. The timing may be hidden, but knowing Mashiach is on the way gives me the ability to keep on waiting.

Mindel Kassorla lives in Orlando, Florida, with her husband and children, where she’s the Judaic Studies Coordinator at Meoros Highschool for Girls.

The Ultimate Problem Solver

In Real Time

Esther Kurtz

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old friend Chayala was coming in from Israel. I never see her, so me and Toby (another old friend) planned to drive to Brooklyn on the shortest Friday of the year to have the world’s most expensive coffee (tolls are $$$).

Our mutual friend Chana, who lives in Brooklyn, wanted to join us. She had a problem though; she teaches on Fridays, and there was no way she could get away with canceling class to have coffee — even with such awesome old friends that we are.

She tried switching schedules, asking the secretaries if there were any extracurricular activities planned — nothing. She wasn’t sure she’d make it, until she called me Thursday night. “You’re not gonna believe it,” she said. “They canceled school for Friday!”

Problem solved. Why they canceled, it was unclear, but she wasn’t looking a gift horse in the mouth.

So often we tell Hashem how to solve our problems, “They should say yes,” “Send me X amount of money” and so on. Why not try letting Hashem find His own way to get you out of a bind? Because He can do things that you’d literally never consider, nor can pull off — like canceling school and finding parking on Avenue M.

Esther Kurtz is the creator of Emunah for Non-Rebbetzins, an audio series teaching Shaar Habitachon in two-minute clips.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 977)