Life's Passages
Lighting Up

Dina is sitting in her bedroom with a scowl on her face.

She is sixteen years old, and it seems like everyone is always trying to change her.

There's her mother who urges her to be neater and more organized. "Just look at this room of yours!" Her mother rants. "One day you will have a home of your own and you won't even be able to find the floor with your mess piled so high. You've got to learn to be more orderly!"

Her father is always criticizing her for being too dreamy and not more ambitious. Whenever he finds her pensively engaging in her favorite pastimes of writing or drawing, Dina's father frowns. "You've got to start thinking about your career path, Dina. If you would just apply yourself as much to your school grades as you do to your meaningless hobbies...!"

Even Dina's friends are critical. They ridicule her for not paying more attention to her hair, her clothes or her general appearance. It's not that Dina doesn't take care of herself, it's just that she can't keep up with all the latest, changing fashion trends. Their disparaging appraisals prove to her that she just isn't up to par.

Dina is mature enough to understand that her parents and friends care about her and seek her benefit and welfare. But she feels that they just don't understand her, or validate her for whom and what she is.

Dina wonders: "Why can't they ever just appreciate my positive qualities? Why do they try to change me into someone else, instead of helping me to develop into the best 'me' that I can be?"

This week's Torah reading, Behaalotecha (Numbers 8-12), opens with the divine instructions to Aaron the High Priest regarding the lighting the Menorah:

"Speak to Aaron and say to him: When you raise up the lamps, the seven lamps shall cast their light toward the face of the menorah." (Numbers 8:2)

Rashi: He is required to kindle the lamp until the flame rises by itself, on its own accord (Talmud, Shabbat 21a). Our Sages further expounded from here that there was a step in front of the menorah, on which the kohen stood to prepare the lamps.

The lights of the menorah are symbolic of the Jewish soul. The word "raise up" (Behaalotecha) is used rather than "kindle" or "light" because Aaron's task was to raise up every soul, to bring out the great potential within each individual.

There are times when a person's potential is concealed, so hidden within his subconscious that even he himself is unaware of his capabilities.

Perhaps he has been surrounded by criticism his whole life so that he no longer believes in himself.

Perhaps he has traveled through life's twisted paths of challenges and has failed so many times that he no longer trusts his abilities to ever succeed.

Perhaps he just has never been surrounded with the nurturance and validation so vital for all of us that he has come to consider himself with utter disdain.

Or maybe he just never pushed himself to the limit, and is therefore simply unaware of how to bring out his latent potential.

The role of a true mentor is to "light up" the potential in every individual, to reveal it from its state of dormancy.

When "lighting up" another, the key is not only to light up his flame of belief, but to take him to the stage where he is no longer dependent on your outside inspiration. He is lit up--as Rashi interprets the meaning of our verse--"until the flame rises by itself, on his own accord" and is able to shine strongly by himself without the constant aid of another. He begins his trek by first taking baby steps and then gains inner confidence to take real strides in his own growth and development.

The mentor provides the keys by providing the belief, direction and confidence in his abilities and then the individual is able to soar on his own wings.

And this is achieved by raising up instead of putting down. By teaching and illuminating via uplifting and encouraging messages rather than criticism and rebuke.

The menorah had seven branches. These branches are metaphors for the seven soul personalities.

There are some individuals who are right oriented, they are outward bound, giving, extroverted, full of love and kindness (chesed) to everyone around them. There are others who are more introverted, more restrained, more exacting and fearful (gevurah). Then there are those who beautifully (tiferet) synthesize the two, sometimes giving and other times withholding.

Some individuals surge with a swell of competitive energy (netzach); while others are masters of non-swerving, consistent devotion (hod). Some are characterized as being experts at connecting with others (yesod) by gathering and condensing their messages through effective communication skills. And others have an aura of authority, regality (malchut), confidence and self-appreciation that affects all aspects of their personality.

In all, there are seven general paths, each with its own personal and unique way and direction.

The three wicks on the right and the three wicks on the left were all directed toward the Menorah's central stem, concentrating their light toward the center. The Torah is teaching that irrespective of your personality, irrespective of your unique path or calling in life, as long as your actions are not self-serving but are directed towards a bringing more goodness into our world--you are able to shine brightly.

In the mentor's role, it is crucial that one values these special qualities and paths of another.

All too often we try to change people. Whether as parents, spouses, friends, co-workers or teachers, we see someone's lack and we point out his errors, in the interest of "helping him improve". In doing so, we construct an artificial model of what we believe is the only true path to self-actualization. We denigrate others' differences rather than learn to appreciate the beauty of their diversity in creating a better world.

Our job, says the Torah, is to help another reach his potential by seeing the beauty in his path and qualities, rather than by becoming a carbon copy of ourselves. As long as his path is directed "inward," towards a higher calling of creating a G-dly world, his path is true.

We "light up" another not through scathing criticism aimed at crushing individuality, but through warmth, love and validation. By validating positive qualities, by discovering latent capabilities, by igniting his fire so that his own branch shines brightly, we have succeeded in enriching another life.

So, tell your child you love him unconditionally. Find his positive qualities and show him how beautiful he is. Demonstrate to him through words and actions that you value how special he is.

Tell your spouse you love him and appreciate him for what he is—not just for what he can be. Point out his positive qualities and you have empowered him to become the best person he can be.

Lighting up another fire is not an easy task. But, in the process, you will have raised yourself to become a better, taller, more tolerant and loving individual.

"There was a step in front of the menorah, on which the kohen stood to prepare the lamps."

By seeing the beauty in another's qualities, by helping him actualize his best qualities, even when different from your own, you will have raised yourself, to now stand as a taller individual.

Perhaps this is the connection to the conclusion of this week's Torah reading, where Miriam's mistake and punishment are recorded.

Miriam and Aaron spoke against Moses regarding the Cushite woman he had married... They said, "Has the Lord spoken only to Moses? Hasn't He spoken to us too?"

G-d called to Aaron and Miriam: "If there be prophets among you, G-d will make Myself known to him in a vision; I will speak to him in a dream. Not so is My servant Moses... With him I speak mouth to mouth; in a vision and not in riddles, and he beholds the image of G-d. So why were you not afraid to speak against My servant Moses?"

The wrath of the Lord flared against them and He left... and behold, Miriam was afflicted with tzara'ath, [as white] as snow. (Numbers 12:1-10)

Moses differed from all other prophets in that he had to be ready to hear G-d's communication at any moment. He therefore had to be ritually pure at all times, meaning he had to refrain from marital relations with his wife, Zipporah.

Miriam learned of Moses's conduct by a chance remark of Zipporah. Not realizing that G-d had instructed Moses to do so, and feeling it was unjustifiable, Miriam criticized Moses to his older brother, Aaron, in the hope of rectifying the situation. Since both Aaron and Miriam were also prophets, but were not required to withdraw from normal family life, in their understanding neither was Moses.

G-d punished Miriam for instigating this criticism.

The driving force in Miriam's life was her championing family harmony. Ever since she was a little child in Egypt, under the cruel laws of the Egyptian taskmasters, she sought to increase familial unity.

We are first introduced to Miriam as a youngster, when the new Pharaoh ascended the throne and decreed that all Hebrew baby boys born must be put to death. The young Miriam would serve at her mother's side in her role as midwife to help the Jewish women give birth. The two valiantly risked their lives by not doing what the king had commanded them and saving the Jewish babies.

As a result of Pharaoh's decree, Miriam's father divorced her mother so that no more children would be born and thus there would be no more baby boys for the Egyptians to murder. Miriam protested vehemently to her father. Though she was a child of only six, her wise words of rebuke caused her father—and all the other men of the generation who followed his example--to reunite with his wife, with the resultant birth of Moses.

Years later, during the Jewish people's forty year sojourn in the desert, the "well of Miriam", miraculously traveled with them, in Miriam's merit. This extraordinary well not only provided drinking waters for the nation, but it also provided spiritual nourishment by serving as a mikvah. Miriam's well enabled the Jewish people to uphold the laws of Family Purity, allowing husbands and wives to live in marital harmony.

Throughout her life, the focus and essence of Miriam's life was a determined objective of increasing family unity and harmony. This drive was part of her quintessential self and path of Divine service.

When Miriam witnessed her younger brother willfully separating from his wife, she could not stand by but voiced her protest to correct what to her was a reprehensible situation.

Miriam's intentions were pure and upright, but she erred in her basic evaluation of Moses. She applied her own path--and the correct path for every other Jew--to Moses. Moses, on the other hand, was a unique individual, a prophet like no other. Being such a supreme prophet, standing head and shoulders above others, he was not to be judged by the same yardstick and the same parameters as any other individual--even another prophet as great as Miriam or Aaron.

Miriam was punished for her criticism, despite her proper intentions. Because ultimately in helping to rectify another individual, we have to view him in light of his own individualized path in serving G-d, even if it is diametrically different from our own.

As great as Miriam was, she erred in her calculation. Her judgment was ultimately blurred by her own positive and altruistic path in creating more marital harmony in our world. Her challenge was too see Moses shining brightly through his own, unusual path.

We learn from Miriam that despite our best intentions in helping to create a better world, we can only do so by realizing that there are several "branches on the menorah"--several different paths. We can only succeed to "light up" another if we are able to see the other for their own self, without being colored by our own personal biases--even when these are positive, altruistic ones.

If we can appreciate another person for what he is, for what he represents, for what he ultimately can contribute to our world through his unique talents and personality--we will have lit up our world as a brighter, more tolerant and more loving place.