Why isn’t our longing for connection more evident?

Magnets have always been a source of fascination for me. I am in awe when I see paper clips “jump” toward a magnet from a distance, or when I feel the force of attraction between magnets of opposite poles. I never cease to be amazed by the strange, invisible, powerful force of magnetism.

As we know, everything in the physical world has a parallel in the ruchniyus world.

When the Ribbono shel Olam created the first man, the pasuk tells us: “Vayipach b’apav nishmas chayim — Hashem blew into his nostrils the soul of life.” The Zohar explains that when someone blows, he blows something of himself. The neshamah emanates from Hashem, and though it is placed in a physical body, it constantly longs to connect to its Source. In the same way that iron filings are naturally attracted to a magnet, the neshamah is naturally attracted to Hashem.

Why, then, don’t we always feel that strong desire to connect to Hashem? If a longing to connect is an essential part of our nature, why isn’t it more evident?

Barriers and Blocking

Just as there are situations in which iron filings will not be attracted to a magnet, there are situations in which a person will not feel the attraction toward Hashem. If there is a large distance between iron filings and a magnet, or if there is a barrier between them, they will not be pulled toward each other. Similarly, if a large distance has been created between ourselves and Hashem, or if there are barriers between us, we may no longer feel the strong pull toward Him.

As in any relationship, we create a distance when we don’t include Hashem in our everyday life and when we don’t speak to Him regularly. We always have the ability to narrow that distance, however. By making a conscious effort to bring Hashem into our life, to think about Him and speak to Him regularly, we can become closer, and the magnetic attraction that is part of our very nature will be activated. Elul is a time to work on establishing that closeness.

There are many barriers that can block the magnetic pull between us and Hashem, as well. These barriers come in many forms. They may be aveiros, desires, destructive habits, bad middos, or negative influences. The barriers stand in the way and prevent us from feeling the neshamah’s innermost yearning. Our avodah in Elul is to work on removing these barriers.

We begin each Shemoneh Esreh with the words “Hashem sefasai tiftach ufi yagid tehilasecha” — translated literally as “Hashem, open my lips and my mouth will tell Your praise.” The commentaries note that “sefasai” can also mean “my barriers” (as in sefas hayam, the shoreline of the sea). We are beseeching Hashem to help us remove the barriers in our lives that block our desire to connect to Him. If we can somehow remove the barriers, with Hashem’s help, the natural magnetic pull between us and Hashem will be restored, and we will want to tell His praises.

Our Essential Self

Even when we don’t consciously feel the magnetic pull toward Hashem, we need to always be cognizant that our true essence is the desire to connect with Hashem.

We read in Sefer Tehillim, “Shir hamaalos; mimaamakim kerasicha Hashem — A song of the heights; from the depths I called out to You, Hashem.” The key to reaching maalos, the heights of ruchniyus, is to be aware of the depths, the deep yearning of our neshamah calling out to Hashem (Sefer Kelilas Yofi, quoted in GPS for the Soul). We need to internalize that it is not our aveiros that define us, but the longing of our neshamah.

There is a well-known custom not to eat nuts during Aseres Yemei Teshuvah, since the gematria of the Hebrew word for nut, egoz, is the same as the gematria for the word cheit, sin. The nut represents cheit and teaches us how we are to view our sins. Just as a nut that is rolled in mud will get dirty on the outside, but remains clean and pure on the inside, so, too, is it with Klal Yisrael. On the outside, we may be dirty from sin. But the inner kernel of our neshamah always remains clean. As the Maharal explains, each aveirah creates an additional barrier between us and Hashem, but our neshamah remains pure and untainted.

The navi calls out to us, “Shuvah Yisrael ad Hashem Elokecha ki chashalta ba’avonecha — Return, Yisrael, until Hashem your G-d, because you have stumbled through your sins.” Nesivos Shalom explains that even if a person has done a multitude of aveiros, he still has the ability to reach Hashem. His sins were merely stumblings, temporary lapses. They never affected his essential self.

We say in the tefillos of the Yamim Noraim, “L’goleh amukos badin… l’yodeia machshavos b’yom din — To Hashem Who reveals that which is hidden, in judgment… Who knows our innermost thoughts on the Day of Judgment.” We might think these words should be said with dread; we’re acknowledging that Hashem knows our darkest thoughts and most hidden feelings. Nesivos Shalom explains that on the contrary, this is a tefillah. We implore Hashem to see past all our aveiros and mistakes and to look at our innermost thoughts, to plumb the depths of our soul and see our neshamah’s deep desire to serve Him and connect with Him (Sefer Nesivei Emes, quoted in GPS for the Soul).

In a similar vein, Michtav MeEliyahu explains that when we appeal to Hashem to remember merit of our ancestors, we are saying: Yes, we committed many wrongdoings, but that is not who we really are. We are the children of the Avos, possessing the noble qualities that they have implanted within our spiritual DNA. Please, give us another chance to actualize our true selves.

Returning — Where?

As we approach the Yamim Noraim, the imperative of doing teshuvah takes center stage. The literal meaning of teshuvah is “return.” What exactly are we returning to?

Teshuvah is sometimes explained as returning to Hashem and the Torah. We call a person who is newly frum a “baal teshuvah.” Why? If a person visits China for the first time, would it make sense to say that he is “returning” to China? Why, then, does it make sense to call a person who becomes Torah observant for the first time, a baal teshuvah, a person who “returned” to something he has never before experienced?

Teshuvah can be explained in a deeper way. It is returning to oneself, returning to one’s essence, tapping into the natural magnetic pull between his neshamah and Hashem. Why is it so significant to recognize that our essential nature is that of the neshamah yearning to connect to Hashem?

Often, when we set out to change a bad middah or habit, we are deterred by the feeling that we’re not being “real” or authentic.

“Is this the real me when I talk patiently? It feels like I’m trying to be someone else.”

“Is this the real me when I wear a skirt that’s so much longer than I’m used to wearing? It feels like I’m a fraud.”

“Isn’t it hypocritical when I daven slowly and with kavanah? It feels so strange.”

We need to keep reminding ourselves that, no, we are not being someone else, we are not being a fraud, we are not acting hypocritically. When we make an effort to improve, we are narrowing the gap and slowly removing the barriers between us and Hashem. We are tapping into our inner essence. We are responding to the murmuring of the neshamah begging to connect to its spiritual Source. By doing teshuvah, we are being true to ourselves.

Rebbetzin Suri Gibber has been involved in chinuch habanos for decades, first as general studies principal in Bais Yaakov High School of Miami, and, for the past 15 years, as principal of Bais Yaakov High School of the Twin Cities. She gives adult education classes as well.