With joy, you will exit – כי בשמחה תצאו

If you have ever heard Yemima Mizrachi speak, you know that her speeches evoke laughter and tears and impart a deeply heartfelt authenticity. In a clip from a few months ago, Rabbanit Yemima, in her honey-sweet voice, discusses the idea of happiness within and that in order to celebrate and be happy with others, we must feel joy on our own.

In the seven brachos we bestow upon a newly married couple, the first four words of blessing are those of solitary happiness, of being joy-filled by oneself: גילה, Yemima says, is “the capacity to laugh from the depths of your heart alone in your house.” רינה, she humorously notes, is “singing alone in the shower with your horrible voice, forgetting all the words.” Then, דיצה is putting on music in your room and dancing to it without caring. Afterwards, חדוה is an expression of חדות, of sharpness, the ability to go from one emotion to the next, from laughing to crying—from sobs upon sobs to wiping away our tears and saying resolutely, ‘Forget it. I’m going shopping.” Only after finding yourself in all four ways of  internal self-satisfaction, Yemima says, you can then celebrate with another.

In An Invite to Happiness (הזמנה לשמחה), this lyrical Israeli woman, with her poetic language, implores her readers to join her in exploring what it means to be joyful. I love this passage at the very beginning, where she discusses her own relationship with “joy,” personifying it as a development over time and not simply as an emotional state:

אני כל הזמן משחקת איתה מחבואים, מחפשת אותה והיא, מצידה, מראה את פניה ומכסה את פניה ומתחפשת ואני צריכה לזהות למה היא התחפשה היום. אבל היא תמיד שם. אני עוסקת בה תמיד, צועקת עליה כשצריך, נוזפת בה כשהיא הולכת לה לאיבוד, לאיזו התבודדות…וכל הזמן .מנסה לשקם אותה

All the time, I’m playing hide-and-seek with her [happiness]. I’m searching for her while she disguises herself, showing her face and then uncovering it and dressing up as something new. I always have to identify her in her next disguise, but no matter what, she is always there. I’m always busy with her, I scream at her when necessary, and scold her when she gets lost. And this whole time, I’m trying to rehabilitate her.

(הזמנה לשמחה, pg 10)

In this excerpt, Yemima so beautifully describes happiness as an ever-evolving entity, which she keeps chasing after determinedly in an almost playful-like dynamic, no matter how unpredictable and elusive it is to her. What Yemima portrays especially in the book’s introduction is the frustrating yet meaningful process of attaining simcha. And she accomplishes this through a raw and genuine depiction.

This motif of happiness, as a long-term internal process rather than an immediate, one-dimensional accomplishment, is also evident when she writes, “Search for her. Get angry over her. Be saddened by her. And be sad because you’re sad” (pg 16). (It obviously sounds better in Hebrew!)

In general, I love Rabbanit Yamima’s unabashed humanity, which is why many people probably find her so appealing to listen to. And here, in the quote above, it’s so easy to relate to this wanting to be happy but not always being able to achieve it. But the wanting and the will, as we know and as she argues, is key to fulfilling this dream. Yemima encourages her readers to join her in finding a joy of life, a simchas ha-chaim, “no matter what kind of death we once knew.”

I believe part of becoming a happy person—not a perpetually smiling but rather a deeply content and grounded person—is reframing our circumstances. Like the pain of labor. There’s an enormous trend now of women seeking alternative methods to birthing that don’t include traditional forms of medical pain relief. I’m aware of an effective method called Hypnobirthing, which is a model of teaching women positivity by eliminating fears, welcoming the pain (not fighting it), and reframing the whole birthing process as something positive and productive—not as something of sheer suffering and an inability to cope—even with the language we use to discuss and prepare ourselves for the process.

My friend, who swears by this method, mentioned to me that in her class with Sara Kramer, a renown hypnobirthing instructor, the students learned how contractions, or rather “surges,” are your body’s good and healthy signals to you to effectively push your baby out.

This whole idea of reframing and shifting one’s perspective is key to any kind of suffering that we hope isn’t just an end in itself but a means to more blessings. Interestingly, in this past week’s parsha, the Jewish people left Egypt and experienced the wonders of Exodus and freedom. A notable figure in this story, besides for Moshe, was Miriam—a name which literally means, “bitter waters.”

I heard a beautiful analysis of the name “Miriam” from the Sklener Rebbe, whom I actually met with today. He told me and my husband that MiRYa”M is an acronym for Mah Rabu Ma’asecha HaShem (Ykvh), stressing how important it is even when there’s a little bitterness to remind ourselves how amazing Gd is to us and what a loving Presence He holds in our lives. Even when there’s a challenge, it’s upon us to thank HaShem for all our blessings!

So, it’s not about finding joy in our pain but reframing our pain so that we can find some joy to be thankful for. Our blessings are proof that HaShem loves us and that our suffering is not for naught.

Finally, in her eye-opening book that almost reads like a wise tale, Rabbanit Yemima underscores the importance of striving towards a joyful lifestyle, where happiness is like a beautiful fragrance (a בושם), which, even if not strong at times, permeates our feelings and behaviors, uplifting us from our depression and lack—showing us that there is something more.