‘Self-motivators are Great Storytellers’

Darkness sometimes helps light do its job. The sages say, if you light a match at midday, in broad daylight, it won’t have the brightening effect it does when you light it at midnight. This doesn’t mean dark times are needed, God forbid. Instead it says something else: when dark pain does happen, the light you manage to kindle will radiate further. 

I’ve been thinking about this a lot this week, particularly when reflecting on the difference between this year’s Hanukkah and last year’s. Last year, Hanukkah was the first holiday that followed October 7, 2023, one of our people’s darkest days, when Israel’s least formidable enemy had inflicted the worst devastation in the State’s history. This year, although 100 of our beloved Hostages remain wrongfully in dark harm, Israel’s defense forces have restored their credibility. More formidable enemies like Hezbollah, Syria, and Iran are no longer the threats they once were. Thick darkness has given way to soft light.

When you control the agenda and have momentum, you’re winning in the Middle East. Tal Becker, who makes this observation, then adds another point. When you control both the agenda and the momentum, you can retake control of the story being told. We can replace Iran’s story of destructive warfare with our story of building dignified coexistence. In so doing, we remind all people of good faith of a much worthier story. 

The story you tell yourself can be a powerful motivator. Julian Edelman made this point with me and his dad Frank this week: “Self-motivators are great storytellers.” Hanukkah’s story, the Hanukkah miracle you want to focus on is a telling decision  – the few defeating the many, rekindling faith, the jar of oil that lasted. It’s telling for others. It’s telling for you too. Tell one that motivates a better you.  

Is this week’s portion of Torah a story of Joseph getting even with brothers who wronged him? Or maybe it’s a story of his facilitating their repentance. They express guilt, confess, and then improve their ways. Perhaps it’s the Torah’s best illustration of the kind of cleansing we aspire to every Yom Kippur. Again, it’s a story that motivates a better you, a you who’s thirsty to heal and repair and cleanse. 

May darkness soon give way to a brightening story. One that generates a new sweep of momentum that motivates cooperative coexistence and faith-warming dignity.