Reflections
Sitting shiva just a week ago for my late, beloved mother was a deeply meaningful experience. I particularly benefited from the reflection it allowed me to do. By staying at home, not working, and spending time talking with friends about her, we all came to realize many things—about who she was and about our relationship. Above all, I began to appreciate the incredible love she gave us, and for that I will be eternally grateful.
At last night’s Baltimore Partners program, we learned about time from a Jewish perspective through Rabbi Jonathan Sacks’s writings. He teaches that time for reflection is like oxygen for the body: if we don’t make space for it, it simply won’t happen. Linda Hurwitz was my learning partner. We both resonated with this insight, and we added two important caveats.
First, reflection requires questions. What happened? What are the implications? How do I feel about it? How could I do better next time?
In Hebrew, a question is a she’eilah—the same word used for a borrowed item. Just as borrowing allows us to use something we don’t yet possess, questions allow us to reach understandings we couldn’t access otherwise. The questions I was asked at shiva about my mother did this for me.
Second, even with time and questions, we need to know how we reflect best. Do we process through conversation or in silence? Through thinking alone or by writing things down? Reflection isn’t one-size-fits-all. I reflect best through speaking and writing.
In this week’s Parsha, after the seventh plague of hail, Pharaoh appears to take responsibility. “I have sinned,” he says. “Pray to God to stop the hail, and I will let the people go.” Moses agrees—but adds that he knows Pharaoh’s words are empty; he has not yet come to fear God.
How did Moses know? Because Pharaoh hadn’t done the work of reflection. He hadn’t taken time to ask himself questions, to talk about his thoughts with others, or to write them down. Without reflection, we will not come to the realizations we are capable of.
