M y mother is a Holocaust survivor the only remnant of her immediate family. I felt her loss most keenly when I had my own children and would call her to share their latest “chochmahs.” I wondered then With whom did my mother share her own children’s milestones?

Part of the dynamic of human connection is that when we experience something that evokes strong emotions we want to share it with someone close to us. Encounter extreme beauty in nature for example and out comes the device to take a picture so we can show (or tweet or post) it to others.

Yet sometimes we share things with others that we have no right to share either because they were told to us in confidence or because we know the other person involved is private about these matters. Why do we do it? Mostly because we want a connection to the people we’re talking to so we disregard the wishes of others who may be much closer to us.

Responding to Injustice

If our desire to share is strong when it comes to things that are beautiful or positive how strong is the urge to speak when we experience something unpleasant or untrue? We all have an innate sense of justice (as it says in Koheles 7:29 “Asah ha’Elokim es ha’adam yashar — G-d made man upright”) which often leads to a visceral response to an injustice.

Perhaps the greatest urge to speak out comes when we feel we’ve been wronged or wrongly accused. We want to defend ourselves to explain to have the blame removed. A teacher accuses a student of cheating on a test but the student knows it was the girl next to her who copied her answers. Or a teenaged boy takes his family’s car for a late-night spin without permission. He gives the wheel to his friend and somehow the car ends up on a front lawn. Should he take the rap?

What about when your husband mentions in front of guests that you don’t want to make Pesach this year so you’re going to a hotel when you actually have surgery scheduled a week before the Seder and you can’t make Yom Tov?

There are so many situations in which we feel justified saying what perhaps should not be said. Conventional wisdom dictates that when we hold back and don’t say what’s on our mind we’ll feel repressed and resentful and this will affect our health adversely. Perhaps there’s some truth to that in a situation where a person needs to protect themselves and is unable to speak up.

Certainly every person has to find their voice. But when we’re capable of voicing our objection or defense we need to pause and consider whether we should be speaking up. We need to remember that we have a choice — and sometimes the better choice is to refrain from speaking.

Under Cover

In the Torah we see many examples of people who refrained from sharing information. Rochel doesn’t tell others of the chesed she did for her sister even after many years. Yosef doesn’t send for his father so as not to incriminate his brothers. Binyamin knows that Yosef is alive and keeps the information to himself. Esther doesn’t reveal her Jewish identity in the palace of Achashveirosh.

Maharal discusses what a tzadeikes Esther was in hiding her true identity. The commentators tell us that she wanted to reveal her identity yet she stayed silent because of Mordechai’s wishes. How much restraint did Esther need not to tell who she was? It’s like a single mom looking to remarry who once said to me “Not telling my date that I have children would be like hiding my arm. They’re an integral part of me.”

Maharal sheds light on the lengths Achashveirosh went to get Esther to reveal her background. He told her “Tell me who you are. Bring your family to the palace. I’ll make them important people in the kingdom.” He gathered women to Shushan a second time in the hope of intimidating Esther into revealing her identity.

The Mishnah teaches “I have not found anything better for the body than shtikah silence” (Avos 1:17). The Chassid Yaavetz explains that a person who refrains from speaking when he has what to say demonstrates that he has three qualities: 1) He is someone who is informed and therefore doesn’t feel compelled to jump into the conversation; 2) his intellect rules over his material self; 3) he has proper vision and anticipates the damage that might ensue from his words.

It’s possible to feel empowered instead of resentful and to rise to the challenge of seeing the bigger picture of what Hashem wants from us. If we do so we can refrain from saying things we shouldn’t even if it would be emotionally satisfying in the moment.

Filling Ourselves Up

Marriage is perhaps the most critical area in which what should not be said is at least as important as what should be said. Since there’s a One Above Who loves justice and loves us we don’t have to right every wrong or correct every unimportant mistake. We don’t have to speak up to sense that our presence is felt.

Yet how do we resist the urge to make ourselves heard to correct or to deflect?

The only way to do so is by filling ourselves up with more content. The more secure we are internally the less noise we feel we have to make. The Gemara says “A lone coin in an empty flask makes noise” (Bava Metzia 85a). If inside we are empty we feel the need to speak up. On the other hand the more we’re aware of our inner world a world of content and connection to HaKadosh Baruch Hu the less we have the need to speak up.

Sometimes we correct our spouse thinking it’s coming from that place of innate justice we each have. Perhaps what’s really going on however is that we feel his mistakes or bad jokes or loud voice in public reflects badly on us. Perhaps it’s not our sense of right and wrong that’s offended so much as we feel that our own image or that of our family is being compromised.

I once attended a Shabbaton with a well-known female educator and was surprised to find that her husband was a somewhat embarrassing figure. To put it bluntly much of what he said was cynical or in poor taste. I marveled at his wife’s equanimity as she seemed unfazed and unruffled by his social blunders.

Only later when I came to know her better did I realize that as a woman with real ruchniyus Torah knowledge and emunah she was full. There was no coin in an empty can that had to make noise. She possessed the composure of one who does not need to be defined by those around her because she knows who she is.

Esther Hamalkah is a fascinating role model. Although we dress up our daughters as Esther on Purim none of us would want them to suffer her fate. But there was more to Esther than her personal circumstances which turned tragic when she willingly came before Achashveirosh and lost her connection to her real zivug Mordechai. She is one of our seven prophetesses. She knew who she was. Under the tutelage of Mordechai she saw the bigger picture.

The same restraint that allowed Esther to withhold her true identity from Achashveirosh is what enabled her to risk her life to come before the king and plead for her people’s lives. Because she did not relate her background initially her revelation was that much more potent when she did reveal it.

In our own lives as well while our speech is an expression of our essence it’s the extent to which we exercise restraint when it’s better not to speak that makes our words compelling.

Happy Purim.