“Follow your heart” is the prevailing wisdom in today’s society; “be true to what you feel” seems to be the mantra of our generation. From this perspective, the main arbiter of our actions should be our emotions.

In Jewish thought, the matter is more complex. Certainly, one’s feelings are valued as a source of motivation for our actions and life choices. However, Judaism is also skeptical of leaving everything up to our whims. Some things are simply too important to wait for a surge of inspiration. Sometimes action is required no matter how we may feel in the moment.

Based on this awareness, Judaism posits that “action is paramount”1 ; feelings, and even beliefs, are secondary to how one actually behaves in this world and how one chooses to spend their time and resources. This is the logic underlying halachah, the vast system of Jewish law and behavioral requirements for fulfilling the commandments of the Torah.

Halachah literally means walking and is primarily focused on how we navigate the world. It is the Jewish “way” of honoring and actualizing the potential holiness and existential impact of our every step.

The mitzvot themselves are almost entirely focused on tangible actions that one must do or not do within the personal, professional, social, and ritual dimensions of life. As commandments, they comprise the bedrock of Jewish religiosity and culture. The mitzvot give concrete experiential expression to abstract principles such as justice, self-restraint, love for one’s neighbor, righteousness, fairness, etc.

These are the things the Torah considers simply too important to put off until we are graced with the inspiration and motivation to do so.

According to Jewish teaching, it is always the right time to pursue justice, to feed the poor, to take care of the stranger, to pay your employees on time, to act with respect in all manner of relationships, to express gratitude to G‑d for the fruits of your labor, and so on. And it is this spiritual investment in obligatory action, rather than fleeting feeling or abstract philosophy, that has led people throughout the ages to characterize Judaism as being a religion defined by “deed over creed.”

However, all that is not to say that Judaism disavows or devalues the role and importance of feelings and inspiration in the realm of action. Not at all. But it does suggest that the Torah takes a different approach to ethical action and sustainable practice than to simply “follow your bliss.”

Religious, relational, and societal commitments all demand a heightened degree of behavioral consistency and even willful perseverance to maintain and live up to. Truth, faith, love, justice, community, education, success—these values, goals, and ideals all require regular practical action to become realities. It is not enough to just think about or have feelings for them.

This means that anyone who desires to live in accordance with such commitments will inevitably have to show up, support, and contribute to their actualization, even when they don’t necessarily feel like it.

How then does one ensure that their commitment to sustainable practice does not devolve into a series of mechanistic actions devoid of heart and soul?

Traditional Jewish teaching offers a novel perspective to solve this behavioral conundrum.

Rather than framing the matter as a one-way street from feeling to action, inspiration to initiative, the Sages teach that our feelings can flow and follow from our deeds, not just the other way around. As the thirteenth-century compendium of mitzvot, the Chinuch,2 states succinctly: “Hearts are drawn to follow actions.”

The recognition that rather than passively waiting for inspiration to strike, one can consciously cultivate feelings of excitement, passion, and even pleasure for their most important commitments through repeated action is relevant to all forms of practice, learning, and mastery.

For example, many writers and musicians stress the importance of sitting down to write or practice every single day, whether one is inspired or not. There is something about the rhythm and regularity of the act itself that helps to maintain and even progressively deepen one’s abilities and identification with their art form. Sometimes it is just a matter of putting pen to paper, fingers to keys, brush to canvas, or sitting down to meditate that opens the inner channels for inspiration to flow.

Often, the muses are simply hovering and waiting for us to initiate the process. Our proactive instigation is the proverbial lightning rod that can catch and direct the energetic currents of creation. If we never act, our infinite potential remains untapped.

What is true of the creative process is equally true of the spiritual process. For instance, in Judaism, prayer is a thrice-daily obligation whose times are proscribed. Notably, the Sages refer to prayer as the “work” (service) of the heart.3

This suggests that the Sages understood that inspired daily prayer does not come easily; it requires actual work. And what is that work? It is the work of preparing,4 softening, and opening one’s heart on a daily basis in order to be fully present and receptive to the Divine Presence in our lives at any given moment. Rather than prayer flowing from a sense of Divine intimacy and inspiration, the inspiration and intimacy follow from the regular act of prayer.

The above psycho-behavioral insight, that our feelings can follow from our actions, has multiple implications. We need not be slaves to our erratic emotional states. We can make our emotions work for us rather than helplessly following their unpredictable and often self-centered lead. If we want to live a certain lifestyle, or according to a certain set of values, then we must actually perform those actions that embody and express those truths, which, in turn, can generate corresponding feelings5 and inspiration.6

All of this, and more, is alluded to in the Hebrew word for deed, maaseh, which is related to the word me’asin,7 meaning to compel. This reveals a common thread in Jewish thought—that many of the most fulfilling, impactful, and important things for us to do in this world are not necessarily those that come naturally. To elevate our actions and awareness in light of the Divine, according to Torah, takes effort. Ultimately, we must choose to compel ourselves to act in accord with our highest values and ideals.

Otherwise, if left to their own devices, our emotions and appetites are bound to lead us astray.

Ultimately, inspiration and emotions are important, but they are also fleeting. Sometimes we are motivated, but often we are not. When we establish a regular routine, we develop a “second-nature” that enables our chosen actions to endure despite the changing weather patterns of our emotions.

So don’t just follow your heart and wait until you feel like doing something important; that may never happen. Instead, follow the timeless Jewish wisdom expressed by Nike’s trademark slogan, “Just Do It!”; the feelings will follow like ripples in a pond after a stone has been tossed into its depths.

The Big Idea

Don’t wait for inspiration to strike. Just do what’s right, and the inspiration will follow.

It Happened Once

A Chasid once turned to his Rebbe, R. Schneur Zalman of Liadi, known as the Alter Rebbe, for a private audience, where he lamented that his religious observance felt mechanical and lacking in passion and inspiration.

The Alter Rebbe responded to his predicament by sharing a novel interpretation of a famous Biblical episode.

In the fourth chapter of the second book of Kings, we read of the miracle of the cruse of oil performed by the prophet Elisha. An impoverished widow sought the help of Elisha, crying that her debtors were about to take her two children as slaves, and all she possessed was a single cruse of oil. The prophet told her to borrow as many empty vessels as possible and fill them with oil from her cruse. Miraculously, the oil kept flowing as long as there were vessels to receive it.

The Alter Rebbe explained the deeper significance of the widow’s quandary and Elisha’s advice, interpreting the story in a psycho-spiritual manner that spoke to the Chasid directly:

The woman (ishah) is analogous to the innate Divine flame of the soul8 (eish), which constantly yearns to express its love for G‑d (represented here by Elisha the prophet).

A woman, the wife of one of the prophets, cried out to Elisha—The soul calls out to G‑d: My husband, your servant, has died—my service of You is lifeless, devoid of inspiration. I yearn to fill my deeds with passion and meaning. …And the creditor has come to take my two sons as slaves—but my base inclinations are monopolizing my emotions. They want me to worship the material and revere the temporal, clouding my vision of Your eternal truth. Elisha responded: What do you have in your home?—G‑d replies, “What part of your soul can you still access?” She answered: Your maidservant has nothing in the house, save a small cruse of oil—nothing but its pristine essence, whose inner flame and core remains forever unsullied by the mundanities of life.

Said [Elisha]: Borrow vessels from your neighbors; empty vessels, only that they not be few—Act. Continue to do positive and G‑dly deeds, even if they seem “borrowed” and empty to you. Remember, deeds are vessels, ready recipients for Divine light and connection.

…And pour [of your oil] into these vessels—the more vessels you acquire, the more your “oil” will flow from its source and fill your actions with meaning and depth.

Without the vessel of deed, there is nothing to ignite the oil of inspiration. Ultimately, if you persist in doing what you know to be true and right, your Divine essence will fill your every “empty vessel.”

The Chasid left with renewed vigor and insight, rededicating himself to the holy vessels his actions would create.