Ask any grown up what the scariest part of being an adult is, and I bet you they'd answer it's the responsibility. I can easily tell you that's what's scaring me most about getting older, and it all flies by so fast that it's not until you hold your future in your hands that you realise it ever fell there in the first place. Making choices and decisions are the unfortunate consequence of growing up and recognising the gravity of seemingly minute decisions can be terrifying. It's all so much easier when we're younger, our parents hold our hands and tell us where to go, where to live, what to do, make our meals, wash our clothes.....and we happily skip off to play on the swings while our parents balance the checkbook. In every decision that we make, the alternate option is lost, and there is no way for us to see how it would have played out and whether we did, in fact, make the right decision-and it's hard living with that kind of uncertainty.
At the moment, I am feeling the decision making pressure in copious amounts. It seems like an easy enough thing to do, right? Make one simple choice, it shouldn't be that hard! But from where I'm standing, I realise that one basic decision has the power to alter my entire future. If anyone's ever seen the movie The Butterfly Effect, you know what I'm talking about. The smallest things can change our lives forever, without us realising its possible ramifications in the moment. As Kundera (author of one of my favourite books ever) said: ""There is no means of testing which decision is better, because there is no basis for comparison. We live everything as it comes, without warning, like an actor going on cold. And what can life be worth if the first rehearsal for life is life itself?" Life is nothing more than a series of moments, little cliffs we jump off of every day without thinking.
In high school, we learnt in business studies class that in any situation, there is an opportunity cost-the loss incurred by choosing one option over the next best alternative. We make hundreds of choices each day, and therefore incur equal opportunity costs. Waking up at 8 in the morning means we lose out on sleeping in till 8:30. Eating a bowl of cereal for breakfast means we miss out on the chance to have some eggs. Driving to work means we miss out on taking the bus. In each situation, there isn't even a way of knowing what you have lost.
Ultimately, though, this is the way of life. It's all about trust in Hashem. We need to be able to take that blind leap every second of every day and know that Hashem is our safety net-there's no need to look down. No matter which decision we make, He has it all planned out, and everything will work out for the best. That's the beauty of Judaism-we have free will, yet everything is already decided in shamayim. We often question how this can be possible..my Rabbi once laid out the issue in this way: it's kind of like a scientist running a mouse through a maze with cheese waiting for him at the end. Knowing the behaviours of the mouse, the scientist can predict the exact course the mouse will run to reach his goal. Despite this knowledge, at each corner the mouse makes the decision for himself, with no intervention from the scientist. He runs according to plan, yet made all the decisions by himself.
Keeping in mind that life is short, we need to recognise the power of each decision we make, and ensure that we do not leave that power untapped. Not all opportunity costs are as inconsequential as the eggs we miss out on when we eat cereal for breakfast. Other decisions, like learning torah vs. facebooking or sleeping in vs. volunteering at an old folk's home have far greater ramifications. These small day to day choices shape the person we are and become, without us even knowing it. They build up our schar in olam haba. They change the people around us, and can affect them for years, even if you don't see it's impact right away.
The gemara brings down a story in mesechet brachot about the Tana Shmuel. His father was a very pious, careful man, to whom many members of the community would leave their money to in the event that they should pass away and leave behind young children who could not be responsible for it, until they reached a certain age. He was so cautious with this money that when he himself passed away, even Shmuel did not know where it was hidden. It got to the point where, for his lack of knowledge, he was being accused of having stolen the money for himself. Shmuel went to his father's grave to ask where on earth the money could have been kept and, while there, encounters the "ghost" of his friend Levi who had passed away some time ago. He asked Levi what he could possibly be doing still on this earth- Levi had been a learned man, a careful follower of mitzvot and , on top of that, a rosh yeshiva!Levi then explained that for seven years, he had skipped a shiur every day by Rav Afas. For this, he was accountable for two grave aveyrot: firstly, every day Rav Afas noted his absence, and was hurt. Secondly, as Rav Chaim of Volozhin says in Shar Daled of Nefesh HaChayim says: one word of torah is greater than all the mitzvot. Therefore, by skipping the class when he had an opportunity to learn, Levi was bitul torah!
From this, we learn the grave power of each decision we make, the way each moment can shape and alter our lives. Despite all his good deeds, Levi would not be allowed to enter gan eden for seven years (one year for each in which he skipped Rav Afas' class). In each moment, each interaction, we have two choices. We can choose to put in a little extra effort, or take the easy way out. We can think of another's feelings, or we can be selfish. No matter what we ultimately choose, we need to be careful that the opportunity cost is not the option that could have bought us a brick in the road of the world to come.
At the moment, I am feeling the decision making pressure in copious amounts. It seems like an easy enough thing to do, right? Make one simple choice, it shouldn't be that hard! But from where I'm standing, I realise that one basic decision has the power to alter my entire future. If anyone's ever seen the movie The Butterfly Effect, you know what I'm talking about. The smallest things can change our lives forever, without us realising its possible ramifications in the moment. As Kundera (author of one of my favourite books ever) said: ""There is no means of testing which decision is better, because there is no basis for comparison. We live everything as it comes, without warning, like an actor going on cold. And what can life be worth if the first rehearsal for life is life itself?" Life is nothing more than a series of moments, little cliffs we jump off of every day without thinking.
In high school, we learnt in business studies class that in any situation, there is an opportunity cost-the loss incurred by choosing one option over the next best alternative. We make hundreds of choices each day, and therefore incur equal opportunity costs. Waking up at 8 in the morning means we lose out on sleeping in till 8:30. Eating a bowl of cereal for breakfast means we miss out on the chance to have some eggs. Driving to work means we miss out on taking the bus. In each situation, there isn't even a way of knowing what you have lost.
Ultimately, though, this is the way of life. It's all about trust in Hashem. We need to be able to take that blind leap every second of every day and know that Hashem is our safety net-there's no need to look down. No matter which decision we make, He has it all planned out, and everything will work out for the best. That's the beauty of Judaism-we have free will, yet everything is already decided in shamayim. We often question how this can be possible..my Rabbi once laid out the issue in this way: it's kind of like a scientist running a mouse through a maze with cheese waiting for him at the end. Knowing the behaviours of the mouse, the scientist can predict the exact course the mouse will run to reach his goal. Despite this knowledge, at each corner the mouse makes the decision for himself, with no intervention from the scientist. He runs according to plan, yet made all the decisions by himself.
Keeping in mind that life is short, we need to recognise the power of each decision we make, and ensure that we do not leave that power untapped. Not all opportunity costs are as inconsequential as the eggs we miss out on when we eat cereal for breakfast. Other decisions, like learning torah vs. facebooking or sleeping in vs. volunteering at an old folk's home have far greater ramifications. These small day to day choices shape the person we are and become, without us even knowing it. They build up our schar in olam haba. They change the people around us, and can affect them for years, even if you don't see it's impact right away.
The gemara brings down a story in mesechet brachot about the Tana Shmuel. His father was a very pious, careful man, to whom many members of the community would leave their money to in the event that they should pass away and leave behind young children who could not be responsible for it, until they reached a certain age. He was so cautious with this money that when he himself passed away, even Shmuel did not know where it was hidden. It got to the point where, for his lack of knowledge, he was being accused of having stolen the money for himself. Shmuel went to his father's grave to ask where on earth the money could have been kept and, while there, encounters the "ghost" of his friend Levi who had passed away some time ago. He asked Levi what he could possibly be doing still on this earth- Levi had been a learned man, a careful follower of mitzvot and , on top of that, a rosh yeshiva!Levi then explained that for seven years, he had skipped a shiur every day by Rav Afas. For this, he was accountable for two grave aveyrot: firstly, every day Rav Afas noted his absence, and was hurt. Secondly, as Rav Chaim of Volozhin says in Shar Daled of Nefesh HaChayim says: one word of torah is greater than all the mitzvot. Therefore, by skipping the class when he had an opportunity to learn, Levi was bitul torah!
From this, we learn the grave power of each decision we make, the way each moment can shape and alter our lives. Despite all his good deeds, Levi would not be allowed to enter gan eden for seven years (one year for each in which he skipped Rav Afas' class). In each moment, each interaction, we have two choices. We can choose to put in a little extra effort, or take the easy way out. We can think of another's feelings, or we can be selfish. No matter what we ultimately choose, we need to be careful that the opportunity cost is not the option that could have bought us a brick in the road of the world to come.
