Imagine a mountain climber, struggling up the last sharp
incline to reach the summit of Everest. His body is hot,
because of the exertion of the climb, but he can't take off
his coat because the air is well below freezing at that
height. His heavy rucksack with his gear is cutting into his
back, but he can't drop it because he needs it for the climb.
His hands are sore, even with the use of professional
climbing gloves, and his feet have blisters inside his
freezing boots. His whole body aches to have a warm bath and
a hot meal . . . and most of all a soft clean bed to sleep
in.
This man is struggling against the odds to achieve something
that is very important to him. In fact, his success almost
entirely depends on his attitude. He has to believe that the
accomplishment is very important. If he hasn't got that
absolute, almost obsessive, desire to succeed, then when the
going gets tough . . . he gives up.
This type of commitment is also true of great sportsmen who
have to train to the limits of their endurance; it's true of
the most successful businessmen, who often have to devote
their days and nights to their work. It's true of the great
artists, scientists, men of war and makers of peace . . .
people who have become possessed by a vision . . . like
building something great or improving some aspect of the
human condition.
What's the difference between those who 'make it' to the
summit of excellence in their chosen field, and those who
fall by the wayside? Even though to others, their obsession
may seem quite ridiculous, these people believe . . . not
just said as a platitude . . . but feel deep down in the core
of their being, that the 'cause' they are pursuing is more
important (to them) than their comfort. It's more important
than the hurdles.
The climbers' desire to reach the summit is more important to
them than the cold, the hunger or the pain. This deep belief
is feeding their endurance . . . helping them to find ways to
cope, no matter what difficulties come their way. They
recognize that their troubles are temporary, and will pass,
and the achievement will be permanent, and of lasting
significance (if only to them) . . . making the hurdles they
have had to overcome inconsequential in their own eyes.
What can we learn from these people who are willing to
sacrifice so much so that they can conquer the summit of
achievement? Probably a lot, but in particular we can learn
from their attitude to problems. We also have difficulties in
life, and if we can develop the same deep-seated belief that
there is a purpose to those problems, and the feeling that
the end results will be worthwhile, then we also can find the
endurance we need to overcome them.
In parenting, it means realizing that the fulfillment
children bring us can only be achieved with the sleepless
nights, mess and noise all children bring with them (even the
'easy' ones). The pain our children cause us (it's not called
tzaar gidul bonim for nothing) is part and parcel of
the journey we need to travel to accomplish what is important
to us. That is not to say the struggle is easy. It isn't. It
is often painful and difficult . . . just like climbing a
mountain is not easy. The question we have to ask ourselves .
. . and have a good answer for, is . . . is it worthwhile?
And if we can give this attitude over to our children —
that success in anything worthwhile of necessity requires
struggle and difficulty, then we will have given them a great
tool for life. Because the prevalent attitude of society is
that pain is bad, and that it needs to be avoided at all
costs. Sacrifice is seen as a negative quality. But without
sacrifice, very little would ever have been achieved in the
course of human history. The essential attitude to try to
live by is that 'nothing worthwhile is achieved without
struggle.'
And it doesn't matter if the achievements we are struggling
for are undervalued by society. After all, not everyone can
appreciate why anyone would want to suffer so much, and
sacrifice so much just to climb a mountain. The really
important thing is that the goal is important to the climber.
Many in the secular world cannot understand why anyone would
struggle or suffer in order to raise a large family, or sit
and learn, or keep mitzvos.
It is also possible to learn from these mountain climbers
that joy and pain are not mutually exclusive. These people
enjoy climbing; they enjoy the struggle, not just the result.
If you take on an important assignment, you can enjoy the
challenge, even while the challenges cause pain.
And then there are those who are struggling with illness,
childlessness, or other immense psychological pains,
situations where there seems to be only 'struggle' and no
obvious 'worthwhile result,' when it can be so hard to see
the 'point' of all the pain because the final purpose is
hidden.
In these situations, it is essential to strengthen our belief
that there is a purpose, and that it is a very important one.
It's not about taking away the pain or saying the struggle is
not as difficult as it is. It's not about saying or believing
or feeling 'it's easy.' It's about believing that pain and
struggle have a purpose.
Sometimes it is the climb itself that is the purpose; the
person we become because of the struggle — stronger
perhaps, or more sensitive. And sometimes we are fortunate
enough to eventually get to see the purpose, like the
struggling climber who was climbing in fog and who, at the
end of his climb, finally sees the summit.
[Will the unsigned author of this piece please contact the
editor?]
