The other night, I was listening in on a conversation between my siblings who have middle school aged children discussing the process of trying to get their kids to learn to have better work ethics. While it was all fairly regular type of content: learning how to study, developing techniques, and balancing oversight and independence, I was struck by a similarity that seems to occur constantly in parenting but really in life overall.
They were discussing how they put in work through all these steps as parents, tediously and painstakingly giving of themselves, hoping and trusting that a process will end up where they hope it ends up. The focus of that methodology shifts as a parent. Right now, in out stage of parenting, trying to instill independence in sleep is very real (and ridiculously maddening!) But there’s an underlying connection.
In the perfect world we all visualize, we wish that we could magically snap our fingers and voila, whatever arduous process we’re involved with would magically come to fruition. Unfortunately, life doesn’t work that way, and maybe that’s a necessity for what it means to be alive. We’d all probably agree there are certain things in the world that we wish we could solve instantly: terminal illnesses, peace processes, and ending spam calls forever but for the mundanities of life, we need the step-by-step nature of the process of building skill, grit, and resistance to make our progress long lasting.
That taking note of those processes was jogged in my brain this week as I thought about the counting of the Omer, the day by day marking of 50 days between Passover and Shavuot. Many of us have an association with various mitzvot with the ritual of the she’he’chiyanu blessing. We say it at life cycle events, when we light candles for holidays, and many other events that sanctify that particular moment in time for being significant.
So why don’t we say it when we count the Omer? If we don’t think saying it every night would make sense, why don’t we say it right when we start the process? That is the question posed by Reb Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev1, the Kedushat Levi. His answer is powerful:
We find that there is a constant desire for the counting to be complete and for the closeness to be achieved. There is a constant desire to complete the days of counting. If it was feasible to complete the days of counting in one moment and immediately begin the closeness [with The Holy Presence], how good and pleasant it would be. We therefore find that it is not appropriate to say the blessing of Shehechianu on this [counting due to the desire for the counting to be over with so that we can be close with The Holy Presence].
This teaching is initially based on the notion that the Israelites needed to go through a purification process out of Egypt. We reflect that process of purification back by counting the Omer daily; the Kedushat Levi goes deeper than that. There is something foundational that happens when we count. With each day, we realize we’re building toward something. We couldn’t have just left Egypt and been ready for revelation. We needed to go through it.
If we were to give the Omer a blessing of she’he’chiyanu, that’d be it. The process would be done as we would sanctify the moment, but we need the process to be prolonged. We need to learn, make mistakes, and then grow from them. Closeness requires tending and connection.
That seems true in parenting and in life writ large. If we didn’t have the opportunity to measure various processes in steps, we couldn’t become the people that we are. We need the fits and starts just like we need the immediate successes here and there. The former is where the magic happens.
Wherever you are, whether you’re parenting or just living life, this is instructive for all of us. Be patient in the work. Remind yourself the progress isn’t always linear. And as tempting as it might be to flip a switch, the true growth happens when you can persist.
Shabbat Shalom, Happy Weekend, and Chag Sameach!
late 18th century-Ukraine
Good analogies! I also believe if we immediately had all our wishes resolved, would we feel the gratification of what was to come if we had not watched it happen gradually. And, knowing we may have played a role in doing so. Shabbat Shalom! Chag, and Shavua Tov! Hugs and love! ❤️✡️ Zeta