שפה משותפת
Our Common Language
By Gavriel Aryeh Sanders
You may have heard that Eskimos have many words for snow. Originally mentioned in 1911 by linguist Frank Boas, the idea really “snowballed” (sorry) from an essay in 1940 by American anthropologist Benjamin Lee Whorf (of the Sapir—Whorf hypothesis). The notion became a factoid of popular culture, so much so that in a 1984 editorial, the New York Times confidently affirmed that “Eskimos can discern 100 varieties of snow.” Except they really don’t. When it comes to snow, from an Eskimo point of view, it’s either falling or drifting or on the ground. It can be heavy and damp; it can be light and powdery. Sounds pretty simple.
Imagine Eskimos boldly asserting that English has at least 20 different words for water. For proof, they offer up ocean, sea, rain, pond, dew, river, avalanche, hail, snow, sleet, slush, frost, blizzard, flurry, brook, lake, stream, liquid, steam, and ice. But these terms only describe forms or bodies in which water exists. They certainly aren’t synonyms for water itself.
A similar cliché has been circulated that Bedouins have a sizable number of words for sand. They don’t. There is one primary Arabic word (رمل ramel) modified by adjectives to describe whether it’s fine, coarse, light, dark, beach sand or hourglass sand. Nothing exciting there.
Now, having swept these two urban legends out the door, we could just end the column here and go for coffee. But I’d rather conclude on a happy note. It will take us a few more paragraphs to get there, so think about what blend of coffee you prefer while I cue up Pharrell Williams to sing “Happy.” (Oh, it’s sefirah. We’ll hum it.)
On the subject of happiness, Hebrew offers a rich variety of synonyms. Note the familiar string in the sixth blessing of the sheva berachot list: שָׂשׂוֹן, שִׂמְחָה, גִילָה, רִï€Ö¸×”, דִיצָה חֶדְוָה – all of which are related (according to my DavkaWriter translator) as variations of “joy” and “gladness.” Sefer Tehillim (Psalms) opens with the well-known word ×ַשְׁרֵי, which appears 45 times in Tanach and can be rendered as happiness, contentment, bliss, felicity, blessedness (ibid.). The Torah admonishes us to suffuse our service to Hashem בְּשִׂמְחָה וּבְטוּב לֵבָב מֵרֹב כֹּל, with happiness and glad-heartedness that overflows from a sense of abundance (Devarim 28:47).
It’s ironic, considering the vicissitudes of Jewish history, that simcha occupies such a central position in our communal Weltanschauung. How could a people that has endured so much for so long have such a tenacious grip on the pursuit of happiness? Over ten years ago, my mentor and friend Rabbi Baruch Klein taught me a significant lesson about the nature of Jewish joy. He reminded me that at the onset of the month of Adar we increase our simcha quotient, and in Av we reduce the measure of our simcha. He pointed out that even though simcha oscillates like a sine wave, with its recurring peaks and valleys, it is ever-present in our lives. Simcha is the steady state of Jewish life.
So if simcha is the attitudinal baseline of Jewish life, where is it when I don’t feel happy, jubilant, exultant, joyful, effervescent, ebullient, and a host of other candidate adjectives for Scrabble and Anagrams?
For that, we look to the wisdom of Rebbe Nachman of Breslov, zt’l, who set the benchmark for his followers in all aspects of Divine service to always be in a state of simcha. (See Likutei Maharan Part 2, Lessons 23 & 24.) According to Breslov author Rabbi Ozer Bergman, simcha is a mindset which leads one to act in ways that make a positive difference. He teaches that simcha is a byproduct not of giddy childishness, but rather of “avodah that leads to maturity” (see Rabbi Ozer Bergman’s elaboration at www.tinyurl.com/Bergman-Simcha).
Where does this simcha reside? How is it accessible? Several weeks ago, in one of my high-school Ivrit classes, we examined Rebbe Nachman’s famous injunction “Mitzvah gedolah lihyot b’simcha tamid.” As many readers in our Five Towns community are aware, we observe that the letters of b’simcha (בשמחה) can be rearranged to read מחשבה (machshavah, thought). Herein is a strong hint as to where simcha is found–in one’s thoughts. This concept is not a recent Chassidic novelty or a spinoff from a Tony Robbins success seminar. Marcus Aurelius (who we know was influenced greatly by Rabbi Yehudah HaNasi, the editor of the Mishnah) said, “The happiness of your life depends upon the quality of your thoughts; therefore, guard accordingly, and take care that you entertain no notions unsuitable to virtue and reasonable nature.” His words sound like a paraphrase from the Mussar masters.
We can make an additional observation from the word שמח (samei’ach, happy) as to the locus of the joy we seek. The last two letters are מֹח (mo’ach, brain, mind). The battle for simcha happens between the ears. Rebbe Nachman, zt’l, said:
“It is a basic principle that two thoughts cannot be present in the mind at one and the same time. You can therefore easily banish negative thoughts by sitting and doing nothing–by not pursuing the bad thought but concentrating instead on a different thought, be it one of Torah, devotion, or even business. For it is impossible to think two thoughts at one and the same time.
“There is no need to make a war and shake your head from side to side in order to banish bad thoughts. This does not help at all; quite the contrary, it makes them attack even more strongly. Simply pay no attention: do your part and think instead about Torah, prayer or business. Don’t glance back at the bad thought at all. This way, it will go away by itself.” (Likutei Maharan I, 233)
With this background, the Tzemach Tzedek’s famous Yiddish expression טר×ַכט גוט וועט זיין גוט (tracht gutt vet zain gutt, think good and it will be good) takes on greater depth (Likutei Dibburim, Ch. 1, page 159). True joy originates in the mind, in the quality of one’s steady subcurrent of thought. Knowing this simple truth of higher Jewish consciousness helps us rise above the dust and din of the negative world around us. (Recommended reading: Conversations with Yourself, Rabbi Zelig Pliskin, ArtScroll 2007.)
In 2008 and 2009, I had occasion to be in Singapore several times. At least twice, I rented a room on the campus of the 125-year-old Magen Aboth shul. Security was serious, and the security staff, under Israeli supervision, was a reflection of the cultural mix that makes Singapore a unique city-state. I got conversationally acquainted with a Sikh guard named Dylan. He made quite an elegant impression in his crisp uniform, his spotless turban, and his dark skin contrasted by his piercing blue eyes. What impressed me most was his consistent reply to my daily “How are you, Dylan?” In his refined British-Tamil accent, he’d say, “Mr. Gavriel, what more can we find than peace of mind?”
Dylan hadn’t studied Jewish thought on thoughts, but his mindset reflected it. His positive mantra reminded me of a gem of insight from Isaiah 26:3: יֵצֶר סָמוּךְ תִּצֹּר ש×Ö¸×œ×•Ö¹× ×©×Ö¸×œ×•Ö¹× ×›Ö¼Ö´×™ בְךָ בָּטוּחַ – which we can loosely translate: The mind (yetzer) which is stayed upon You (Hashem), You will guard in perfect peace, because it trusts in You.
With these considerations “in mind,” I wish you a joyful journey through sefirah toward Chag HaShavuot. May the unique middot of each day bring you just what you need to acquire lasting simcha in every thought, word, and action. v
Gavriel Aryeh Sanders has spoken to tens of thousands of Jews across North America and abroad delivering lively lectures related to Jewish living and learning, including his autobiography on “A Minister’s Journey to Judaism.” He currently teaches Hebrew at a Long Island Jewish high school. He can be reached at GavrielSanders@gmail.com. Read more at www.gavrielsanders.com.
