“…We respond both to the experience of being unique, single,
“the loner,” and also to the experience of blending into a team or crew. These responses are antithetical: if it is
natural to thrill to being a single, all-important individual there should be a
negative response to losing one’s identity in a group; yet we find,
paradoxically, that both are thrilling.Saving the day alone, unaided, is the stuff of many a young
person’s fantasy. There is a special
thrill in the awareness that the entire deliverance hinges on one individual;
the very aloneness of that individual in acting is the source of that unique
surge of experience.Yet we thrill when we blend into a harmonious whole so that
the parts of become interlocked indistinguishably: a mass display of precision
gymnastics in which no individual stands out and the entire human mass seems to
function as one being evokes a special feeling in both participants and
onlookers… If one member were to make a small move expressing his particular
individual presence the entire experience would be destroyed.…The thrill of fitting in is a more mature experience than
the thrill of being a loner at any cost.
The immature personality may choose to step out of line in order to
experience its own uniqueness; the fact that the overall structure is betrayed
and damaged is not relevant to the undeveloped mind. Immaturity cannot see the beauty in yielding
the self to actualize the self…”
— Rabbi Akiva Tatz, Letters to a Buddhist Jew
Fitting in, stepping out. Orthodoxy equals community, almost always. Trying to be Shabbos-observant alone is exquisitely miserable. Trying to keep kosher on your own is a uniquely lonely endeavor. Yet some feel swallowed up in that same community. Do we check our individuality at the door, then? Should we? How much and how often? Is it like being in a very large family: the same things that make you feel loved, accepted, and a “part of” also sometimes make you feel like you need a break from all that togetherness?
One of the greatest fears in the human experience is fear of loneliness. And: loss of self.
What makes you feel more accepted by the community: when you are in sync, or when you are accepted for not being in sync?
Definitely being accepted for not being in sync, since then it's the real me they're accepting. But I don't see that as less mature. I think insisting on standing out when it's bad for the community can be immature, but so can blindly, unthinkingly toeing the line. Isn't it most mature to focus on using our personal strengths and perspective to do what the community needs? Do our communities really need us to squelch our individuality? Maybe what's immature is the need for OUTSIDE recognition of our individuality.
I feel most comfortable in a community where people share fundamental principles but welcome a wide range of differences within those parameters. I could never fit into a community where everyone had to think the same way. For one thing, I can't imagine ever finding a whole community that I could agree with on everything. For another, it sounds pretty boring. And third, it limits what you can learn from others.
Ruchi, are you taking Rabbi Tatz's words as a given, or would you make any changes? I too do not like the term "mature" applied to the act of "fitting in". Young people, who are by definition not fully mature, are often insecure in expressing their own beliefs and prefer to "fit in", while older people are more likely to express their own thoughts. How many mature 80 year olds care what other people think when expressing their opinions?
As revered as Rabbi Tatz may be, it's not wrong to analyze his words to see if they make sense or not. It's common with many divrei Torah that the vort sounds great, but when you really think about it, it raises more questions than it answers.
Tesyaa, I was wondering if you and I were misunderstanding Rabbi Tatz because we were reading this out of context, so I took a look at it on Google Books. He actually says that it's important for each person to express his/her unique personality, but in the service of the "Universal picture," realizing that no one else could have fulfilled that particular function. I don't think he's actually talking about expressing opinions, although I'd probably have to read a lot more of the book to know for sure. Ruchi, you've read it. Care to comment?
I do accept Rabbi Tatz's words as is, but it's also true that this is just a snippet. Young people want to fit in, but only with a very small subset of humans – their immediate peers. They are generally anti-establishment. Older people generally trade in sports cars for "sensible" sedans, etc. They don't mind fitting in where it doesn't clash with their sense of self.
Here's another snippet:
"In our machine there may be a small screw in the carburetor that is almost insignificant in terms of its intrinsic value – it may be worth less than the smallest coin. But without it the engine does not run, and if that small screw falls out and buries itself in the desert sand when you are driving through Death Valley, you will realize that it is worth the value of the entire vehicle. Without that tiny part you have nothing at all. While the engine was running smoothly that part was unconsidered and unappreciated; now that it is missing its value has become apparent."
Meaning, the folding of self into the whole actualizes the self more than anything. It is this awareness that requires maturity.
Thoughts?
Without that tiny part you have nothing at all.
The car needs the screw, but the screw can function happily on its own as a screw, without the car. The relationship is not symbiotic.
In other words, the individual who yearns to be free may be better off doing his or her own thing, while the community tries to hang on to him or her for its own perceived needs.
Also, I don't like the idea that a person who wants to express individualism is somehow tooting his own horn. More often than not, the person cannot help being "different" and can no more conform than change the color of his skin.
Believe it or not, I don't consider myself a conformist, and Rabbi Tatz is actually a champion of self-actualization. I'd encourage you to read more of the chapter to get the nuances. Also, I don't know you, so I don't know the thoughts behind your questions.
What can a lone screw accomplish?
I don't mean to take the screw analogy too far. It's just an analogy. But let's say the screw falls out while the car is crossing Death Valley taking its passengers to inappropriate activities in Las Vegas. Maybe the screw is doing a great thing by coming loose!
🙂 can you give me a human example then?
I'm just saying that realistically, one more or fewer member of the group is not going to make a huge difference on the group. Even though "everyone is special" as Barney sings, it's unlikely a single individual's presence or absence will have a huge impact on the whole group, leaving aside influential leaders, etc.
Whereas, choosing to join or leave the group can have a trememdous impact on the life of the individual.
I know you feel that each and every Jew is a member of your family and the family is not the same without him or her, and that's a beautiful thought; but how much impact do the actions of a Jew somewhere in the world affect your life every day? Also, while you feel every Jew is a member of your family, it's possible that not every Jew wants to feel like a member of your family.
I'm getting a bit far afield here, and I'm trying to say everything in the most respectful way possible, so I hope you understand that.
How much impact does the individual Jew have on the community? Metaphysically, an enormous impact. Pragmatically, a negligible one.
No one has to be in *my* family {ahem}…but be a part of *a* family.
Once again, it makes me smile to see the things that we have in common. I know that for me personally, what makes me feel accepted in my [Christian] community is when I am accepted even when I think or believe differently than others. However, that has been hard to come by, for various reasons. When one is expected to just be like everyone else, it can be very lonely and even somewhat oppressive (although that might be too strong of a word). I know that at times I have definitely felt like an outsider, not so much because I necessarily believe differently, but because others perceive me to believe differently, or because they are so stuck on one particular way of thinking or believing that they can't understand that someone could have a different opinion.
Kelly, it's so interesting that people assume you don't think what they think even when you do. I find the opposite happening to me: People assume I think what they think when I don't. And then I also feel like an outsider. Btw, I'm not sure "oppressive" is too strong a word. I've felt it, too. I think it's the loss of self that Ruchi mentioned, or at least a threat to the self. I get the impression from reading a few pages of the book that the mature feeling he was talking about is a desire to use the self for the community, not uniformity of opinions.
Kelly, thanks for the insight. He actually mentions the uniqueness of each soul and that each has a particular task – a highly empowering concept for the individualist. But rugged individuality at the risk of whole is like the 3rd grade dancer who just HAS to fuss with her hair during the ballet recital – ruining the uniformity.
I am fascinated by the intra-O tensions over fitting in vs. not. For me it is kind of like (speaking of immature) finding out that "the clique" I am not a part of actually has its own little rivalries and tensions.
Ya mean the secret's out??? 🙂
I think with the screw thing Rabbi Tatz is referring also to a person's overall purpose in being created, not just place in a particular community. The idea that we all have a unique task and mission in life and that we were created for a very specific purpose, even if we may seem small and insignificant at times we are as indispensable to G-d's vision of the world as the screw is to the car's function. Also that our journey, and the life-experiences we endure along it are tailor-made for that purpose, just as the screw's form is essential to its function.
Regarding Orthodox communities and fitting in, I definitely see a kind of pressure to conformity and looking-over-shoulders, and that's because there is a lot of judging. For better or for worse people need to make decisions about whether they can eat your food, have their kids play with your kids, marry into your family, let you into their school, and since we cannot see into peoples' souls and minds then this tends to be done based on externals. I am fortunate to live in a small community where I feel able to just be myself because there aren't enough of any one type to make cliques. It's not Torah, it's human nature that is at fault. Every person needs to be honest with themselves are they conforming truly l'shem shamayim (for the sake of Heaven?) are they breaking away truly l'shem shamayim? If not, it's unfortunate either way.
As for which is more mature or immature, I suspect what Rabbi Tatz means might be some kind of process of the emergence of self whereby initially as a very young person you define yourself in terms of the "givens" of your identity (family, background, community), then you actively go through a process of rejecting these in search of a more authentic self but this can sometimes lead to a conformity to a peer group instead, and eventually you will reach a more mature stage where you can really understand where you belong in the bigger picture in terms of being part of a larger group but still having a unique role to play in it a kind of synthesis of individuality and community.
That is so beautiful.
What do other O posters think about how much O community life restricts them? You, Ruchi, appear to never feel like you check your individuality at the door. I get the feeling that for you if "being yourself" is a point of difficulty for some O Jew then it is either a result of problematic (and probably not Torah-enough) behavior by other people or of one's own misinterpretation of Judaism. Because you (Ruchi) do promote such an accepting attitude and seem to suggest that you are embodying a Jewish attitude. Maybe I don't have that right though. It would mean, perhaps contrary to intention, that you, Ruchi, or that O Judaism are/is more "liberal" [see other thread] than you/it appear/s–all that stuff about not judging others' observance; not rebuking others (mostly); not presuming you know the whole story; not gossiping; embracing all Jews.
You summed it well. I like the liberal interpretation!
I thought you wouldn't! It means that O Judaism is more liberal than its practitioners. I still feel like you and "your" O Judaism are not how O Judaism really is lived in its "mainstream". SomethingSweet describes how judgment is a constant because the stakes are high with marriages, kids, food and so forth.
People are imperfect, so there will always be a gap between principles and practice. Not gossiping (or more correctly, not making derogatory or harmful remarks about others) is basic Jewish law and is actually getting a lot of emphasis in Orthodox society these days.
As for not judging or presuming you know the whole story, here are a couple of quotes from Pirkei Avot (Ethics of the Fathers):
"Don't judge your fellow until you are in his place" (Hillel)
"Judge every person favorably" (Yehoshua b. Perahia)
Because the wording of the second quote could be understood instead to mean "the whole person," the Sefas Emes (one of the rebbes of the Ger chassidim) explained: Judge the whole person. Even if he's doing one thing wrong, his positive qualities and character traits probably outweigh the bad that you see in him.
When you say "in its mainstream" I'm not sure what you mean. I think of my family members and friends, and we really are living the Judaism I describe. I routinely encounter people being amazingly kind and giving the benefit of the doubt. I don't think we're so unique in Orthodoxy. I am fully aware that there are some folks who don't live so beautifully, though. The judging that she describes is practiced all over the map. Any mother who schedules a playdate will want to ensure that she is comfortable with the standards of the home she sends her child to. The difference is that in Orthodoxy those standards will include some things that are foreign to you. How kosher are they? What kind of language do they use? Yes, these things are important to me. It doesn't make me more judgmental (I call it prudent – I'm not judging the person), just applying my decision-making with different criteria than you may be used to.
Also, I like it because of the irony.