The Courage to Change

Here’s My Story (JEM), “There is No Point of No Return.”

Zechariah 3:7.

See, for example, the commentary of Metzudat David ad loc.

See Torah Ohr, p. 30a, for a discourse on this verse; Likkutei Torah, Parshat Re’eh 38d; Derech Mitzvotecha, p. 140b.
The Rebbe would quote this idea frequently, often emphatically, as a defining feature of a human being and as one of the reasons our soul descends to earth instead of remaining in its original pristine state in the spiritual worlds above.
See, for example, Igrot Kodesh, Vol. 12, p. 36: “The Chasidic interpretation of the verse that refers to man as a ‘walker’ [Zechariah 3:7] is already known—that this is a person’s task, and this is a sign of their inner vitality, that they grow and develop from day to day. We see clearly that this depends only on a person’s will, for the ability to grow is always accessible, to reach a higher level today than yesterday, and so on from day to day. If this is true of all people, all the more so with regards to the younger generation, whose energy is not yet spent and still percolates inside them, and whose initiative is strong…” See also Igrot Kodesh, Vol. 13, p. 367, and Vol. 14, p. 257; Torat Menachem, Vol. 5, p. 56 (chabad.org/4280217), and Vol. 10, p. 110 (chabad.org/2987598)—this source brings into sharp focus the direct correlation between the capacity for failure and the capacity for exponential growth, in contrast to angels who have neither. Ibid. Vol. 34, p. 6 (chabad.org/2988015).
The Rebbe would also often refer to the Talmudic statement (Berachot 64a): “Torah scholars do not stagnate, not in this world and not in the next, as the verse states [Psalms 84:7], ‘They walk from strength to strength.’”
Additionally, the Talmud (Eruvin 54a) says, “Grab and eat, grab and drink, as the world from which we walk is like a wedding feast.” The Rebbe explained that “the world from which we walk” alludes to the unique feature of this world—that here, unlike in the higher realms, we can truly move forward instead of standing still. And this unique opportunity creates the urgency to metaphorically “grab and eat, grab and drink” while one still can.
On a related note, multiple letters reference the analogy of the Rebbe’s father-in-law, the Previous Rebbe, that when you’re walking on level terrain, you can stop and just stand in place, but when you’re climbing up a steep mountain, you can’t just hunker in place. Moving upwards is what keeps you from falling down. And our volatile times are like a steep mountain. See Igrot Kodesh, Vol. 7, p. 353, and Vol. 18, p. 274.

Igrot Kodesh, Vol. 18, p. 479.

Igrot Kodesh, Vol. 8, p. 128.

Tanya, Shaar Hayichud Veha’emunah, ch. 1, elucidates this teaching of the Baal Shem Tov.
Rabbi Nachman (1772–1810) was an early Chasidic master, and a great-grandson of the Baal Shem Tov, who lived in the Ukrainian town of Breslov. He was known to spend his time immersed in Torah study, ecstatic prayer, and earnest meditation. Over time, a group of dedicated students gathered around him to learn from his teachings, until his early passing at the age of thirty-eight. One of them, Rabbi Nosson, transcribed the following moment:
“[Our teacher said:] ‘Even if someone finds himself in the lowest pits of Hell and darkness, may G‑d spare us, he should nevertheless keep himself from despair…. The main thing is to encourage oneself in every way possible, for there is no such thing as despair!’
“He drew out these words, ‘for there is no such thing as despair,’ saying them emphatically, with profound and awesome depth, in order to instruct each and every person throughout the generations to not despair under any circumstances, no matter what they go through” (Likkutei Moharan, Vol. II, 78:7:3).
This moment, and its poignant message, became a central theme in the Breslov Chasidic tradition for centuries to come.
Moshe Maisels (1901–1984) was a thinker and writer who grew up in the vibrant Breslov community of Warsaw (before it was decimated in the Holocaust, along with the 400,000+ other Jews in the Warsaw ghetto). Although recognized for his acute mind and pointed pen—serving as the editor-in-chief of several distinguished Jewish newspapers—he was a humble spirit who notoriously evaded the limelight. However, his increasing retreat from the public (he moved from journalism to publishing to academic pursuits) was also motivated by a deep despair. He felt the losses his generation had suffered caused an inevitable void of spiritual leadership for the younger generation and there was nothing that could be done about it.
In a letter written to Maisels in 1962 (Igrot Kodesh, Vol. 22, p. 179), the Rebbe encouraged him that “despite being a hidden person who holds on tightly to the words of the Sages that ‘there is nothing better for a person than silence,’” [Avot 1:17] he should more fully utilize his talents for the benefit of the public. And “the fact that in our generation the creative powers of our people has been greatly diminished only increases the responsibility of each and every individual who has been gifted with talent. . .” The letter continues:
“I was told that your family, as well as your personal perspective, is associated with the Breslov [Chasidic tradition] and its worldview. I mention this here because a common justification for not being active is that there is no hope for success and the effort is thus a waste. But this spirit is diametrically opposed to the slogan of Breslov: “No despair!”
“Finding ourselves in the [Hebrew] month of Adar, this too is related to the above. The whole idea of the Purim miracle was that in the natural means there seemed to be absolutely no hope for salvation. And the miracle happened specifically in a way of v’nahapoch hu [Esther 9:1]—radical transformation from one extreme to the total opposite extreme….”
“Even if,” continues a follow up letter (Igrot Kodesh, Vol. 22, p. 281),
“to our eyes it seems, as you put it in your letter, that a great emptiness prevails in the world, an inner emptiness—nevertheless, who is it who can judge and decide that their personal perception is in fact the objective reality, to the point that they can lock themselves [metaphorically] into their own little room….
If I have elaborated too much, please accept my apologies; [but] I will not conceal my hope that perhaps as a result of this [elaboration], despite the disappointment you express in your letter, you will go out of your normal framework and begin being active wherever your influence reaches.”
See Kovetz Hayechidut, Vaad Talmidei Hatmimim, Tishrei 5782, no. 3, p. 85, for a letter where the poet Zvi Yair Steinmetz records a conversation he had with Maisels, in which Maisels told him that he identifies with the words of the writer Leib Rochman (a prominent Yiddishist who came from a Polish Chasidic background and survived the Holocaust in hiding) that “the miracle and wonder of the Jewish people after the Holocaust is the Lubavitcher Rebbe.”
(In this regard, it is interesting to note a 1975 conversation between former Israeli Prime Minister Menachem Begin and one of his early financial supporters and friends, Sam Moss [a Holocaust survivor who later lived in Australia]. Moss asked Begin, “Who do you think is the greatest leader of the Jewish people alive now?” Begin responded that, in his opinion, it was the Lubavitcher Rebbe. When Moss asked him why he thought so, Begin answered, “He lifted up the generation after the Holocaust. He helped the Jewish people believe in themselves again.” See Here’s My Story (JEM), “The Survivor Who Wouldn’t Sit Down,” accessible at chabad.org/4047408).
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On a similar note to this correspondence with Maisels, another type of despair the Rebbe tried to drive out of people was the despair of activists and educators who felt all their work and efforts were for naught.
For example, the following 1955 letter (Igrot Kodesh, Vol. 12, p. 4) to a despondent educator:
“Although from time to time I hear of your activities [from others], it was a pleasure to receive a letter from you directly; though, of course, I am unhappy about the spirit expressed therein, namely your dejection that, to your eyes, you do not see any positive effects from your work with the youth.
“It is understood that if an activist is fully satisfied it doesn’t bring the best results; for it is prone to weaken his resolve, as his evil inclination says to him, ‘You did enough, you succeeded, now let others come and take over.’ However, the opposite extreme—feeling entirely hopeless or even dejected—also leads to bad results. In fact, it is worse, because the withdrawal from work caused by despair is much greater [than that of satisfaction].
“Now, to the heart of the matter—that [you feel] the youth in whom you invested so much energy are nevertheless swept up in the wave of assimilation—we are assured that ‘no serious [educational] effort returns empty-handed’ [Hayom Yom, entry of 12 Tishrei], though it doesn’t always succeed on the level one aspired and hoped for. Furthermore, very often, for various reasons, these results are only evident much later. It is often delayed until the student settles down to family life, when he is in less of a state of flux, and he then takes account of everything that he’s gone through in life as well as his present situation, and then the period when he received guidance from so-and-so in a given place makes its way into his self-accounting and can be the factor that tips the scale toward the good.
“Moreover, the Talmud [Yevamot 62b] relates the story of Rabbi Akiva, one of the greatest of the Sages, and one of the pillars of our Oral Torah, that for forty years he was a teacher, an influencer, an educator, and the leading sage, and he had 24,000 students, and these were students relative to Rabbi Akiva’s stature, meaning that they were on such a level of intellect and character that their educator had to be someone like Rabbi Akiva. And then, for a specific reason, they all perished, and the Torah was at risk of being forgotten from Israel. Rabbi Akiva nevertheless went ahead and taught another five students, and it was they who restored the Oral Torah and disseminated it to the Jewish people in their times, and this has been continually passed on from generation to generation until it reached us and our children and grandchildren for all eternity.
“It is clear that our Torah is not simply a story book; rather, the word Torah means a lesson [horaah—see Zohar, Vol. III, p. 53b], meaning that everything in it teaches us and shows the way for every man and woman. This story provides a living example that a person is to utilize and maximize his talents, and whatever obstacles are hurdled against his work, he cannot lose spirit. Even if, Heaven forbid, it is a setback on the level of the above story, where many years of labor seem to fleshly eyes to be entirely lost and in vain, nevertheless, it is upon him to continue his holy work with vitality and joy, and in the end he will certainly succeed. It might be as in the above story, that with a great number he sees no success at all, or no lasting results, but then with a small number he will have such tremendous success that it fills the void and deeply gratifies him for all the toil he invested. In the words of the verse referenced by our Sages in the above story, ‘Sow your seed in the morning, and don’t hold back your hand in the evening, since you do not know which is going to succeed’ [Ecclesiastes 11:6].”
In a 1972 talk (Torat Menachem 5732, Vol. 2, p. 129 (chabad.org/5989361)) the Rebbe relayed this lesson through a quote from King Solomon: “Cast your bread upon the water, for after many days you will find it” [Ecclesiastes 11:1]. It might indeed take many days, the Rebbe explained, but cast your bread and the result is assured—you will find it.
Some letters also point to the verse “Water wears away stone” [Job 14:19], as the Sages interpret it [Avot D’Rabi Natan, 6:2]: If one drop of water after another ultimately penetrates even a stone, all the more so the human heart. See, for example Igrot Kodesh, Vol. 8, p. 342; Vol. 11, p. 241; Vol. 21, p. 302. Other letters add the assurance—and condition—of the medieval Jewish leader, Rabbeinu Tam (1100–1171), that “words that come from the heart enter the heart” [Sefer Hayashar, Shaar 13; Shelah 69a]. See also Igrot Kodesh, Vol. 7, p. 144; Vol. 10, p. 126; Vol. 12, p. 370; Vol. 14, p. 356.

Sefer Hamaamarim 5643, p. 97.

Torat Menachem 5743, Vol. 3, p. 1223 (chabad.org/6011409).

Sefer Hasichot 5750, p. 598.

English letter dated 1 Iyar, 5711. See similarly Igrot Kodesh, Vol. 4, p. 267.
Another English letter from 1951 (dated 6 Nissan, 5711) highlights a different lesson of hope gleaned from Passover:
“For a long time the children of Israel were enslaved in Egypt, in physical and intellectual bondage, and the danger of complete assimilation was grave, as the Torah tells us [see Zohar Chadash, Yitro]. So low had they sunk that when Moses brought them the message of deliverance from Egyptian bondage, 'they did not listen to him because of lack of spirit and hard labor' [Exodus 6:9].
“However, after their liberation from enslavement, they reached, in comparatively very short time, the highest spiritual level which is humanly possible to attain, making them all, men, women and children, fit for divine revelation at Mount Sinai, and worthy of the highest knowledge and inexhaustible source of wisdom and faith for all generations to come. This shows that potentially every person has it in him to rise from the lowest depths to the loftiest spiritual heights in a comparatively short time, provided he has the sincere and wholehearted desire and will to do so.”
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This leads us to an important point: We always have the capacity to start anew—not only after a period of stagnation but even if we messed up bitterly. Many letters counsel the teaching of the Sages that “nothing stands in the way of teshuvah [repentance]” (Jerusalem Talmud, Pe’ah 1:1). No matter how far one has fallen, they should not despair, because with sincere regret and firm resolution to behave differently, they can begin anew. And we are assured by covenant that G‑d is forgiving and accepts those who repent with open arms.
See, for example, Igrot Kodesh, Vol. 26, p. 68, for a letter addressing a woman who wrote remorsefully about a “bad incident” involving a married spouse and another person (it’s not entirely clear if she was the spouse or the other person, or what level “incident” this was):
“In answer to your letter of Jan. 5th,
“Since you describe the incident as a ‘bad’ one, certainly there is no need to further expound on the incident itself, how it hurts not only the three people involved, as you write, but also the couple’s children, as it is the nature of sons and daughters to sense an upheaval in their parents’ relationship. Additionally, the effects of the incident endure—one cannot know if it will be for weeks, months, or even longer—while the ‘pleasure’ was only momentary and only of two people.
“On the other hand, every one of the sons and daughters of Israel has been commanded to repel a sense of despair [see Berachot 10a], because nothing stands in the way of teshuvah. And teshuvah means [Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Teshuvah 2:2] complete regret of the past from the depths of your soul and thus a firm resolution for the future. This includes being careful of anything that can place the relevant individuals in a tempting setting again, and every additional caution in this regard is praiseworthy.
“And G‑d, ‘who sees the heart’ [Samuel I 16:7] and knows that your repentance as detailed above is real and authentic, ‘pardons in abundance’ [Isaiah 55:7], and grants a complete pardon as only G‑d can, including to diminish the pain and shame caused to all those involved in this incident. As the verse puts it, ‘Is the arm of G‑d too short [to fulfill a request]?’ [Numbers 11:23]. And your heart’s wish is indeed to diminish the pain, etc.
“Based on what is explained in the teachings of Maimonides, who was a healer of both body and soul [in addition to being a spiritual leader, he was a prominent physician], it is understood that any incident requiring repentance must be utilized for increasing goodness and uprightness between man and G‑d and between man and his fellow, as the Creator of man has outlined in His Torah, which is called the ‘Torah of Life,’ meaning, it is a guide for life. My intention is simply daily behavior in light of the Torah and being more careful with this than you were before. And, as mentioned above, nothing stands in the way of the will.
“With blessings for success in all the above, and to have good news to share about this.”
Other letters point to a teaching of the Zohar (Vol. I, p. 129a): “Fortunate are those who repent, for in one hour, in one day, in one moment, they become close to G‑d. This is not the case even for the completely righteous, who become close to G‑d [only] in a [matter of] years. Abraham didn’t reach [the status of] ‘elevated days’ until he aged [Genesis 24:1]. King David as well, as the verse states, ‘And King David was old [and only then did he achieve ‘elevated] days’ [Kings I 1:1]. But those who repent immediately enter and bond with Him—with the Holy One blessed be He.”
See, for example, Igrot Kodesh, Vol. 12, p. 290: “Even one who finds themselves in the lowest of the lowest places can transform themselves from one extreme to another, sometimes even, as the Zohar expresses it, ‘in one hour, in one moment.’” See also Igrot Kodesh, Vol. 14, p. 284; Vol. 19, p. 226; Vol. 23, p. 170.
Some letters point to the concluding statement of a Talmudic story [Avodah Zarah 17a] about the wayward sage Elazar ben Durdaya [approx. 2nd century CE] who fell from greatness to lowly places of lust and passion:
“They said about Rabbi Elazar ben Durdaya that he was so promiscuous that there was not one prostitute in the world with whom he did not engage in sexual intercourse. Once, he heard that there was one prostitute in one of the cities overseas who would take a purse full of dinars as her payment. He took a purse full of dinars and went and crossed seven rivers to reach her. When they were engaged in the matters to which they were accustomed, she passed wind and said, ‘Just as this passed wind will not return to its place, so too Elazar ben Durdaya will not be accepted in repentance.’
“[This statement deeply moved Elazar ben Durdaya, and] he went and sat between two mountains and hills and said, ‘Mountains and hills, pray for mercy on my behalf, so that my repentance will be accepted.’ They said to him: ‘Before we pray for mercy on your behalf, we must pray for mercy on our own behalf…’ He said: ‘Heaven and earth, pray for mercy on my behalf.’ They said to him: ‘Before we pray for mercy on your behalf, we must pray for mercy on our own behalf…’ He said: ‘Sun and moon, pray for mercy on my behalf…’
“[Finally,] Elazar ben Durdaya said, ‘Clearly, the matter depends on nothing other than myself.’ He placed his head between his knees and cried loudly until his soul left his body. A divine voice emerged and said: ‘Rabbi Elazar ben Durdaya is destined for life in the World to Come.’
“When Rabbi Yehuda Hanasi heard this story, he wept and said: There are those who acquire their world [their portion in the World to Come] only after many years of toil, and there are those who acquire their world in one moment… And he further said: Not only are those who repent fully accepted, but they are even called ‘Rabbi’ [—as the divine voice referred to Elazar ben Durdaya as Rabbi Elazar ben Durdaya].”
See, for example, Igrot Kodesh, Vol. 9, p. 285: “Explain to him that nothing is ever lost, and ‘no banished one will remain banished’ [Samuel II 14:14], and though one shouldn’t wail about the past [Mishnah, Berachot 9:3] and about the time that has gone to waste—from now on, every moment should be precious…. And, as can also be logically understood, ‘One can acquire their world in one moment’ [Avodah Zarah 17a]… And the question as to why his bygone years happened as they did—‘Why dig in to the secrets of the All-merciful?’ [Berachot 10a]…”
See also Igrot Kodesh, Vol. 4, p. 56; Vol. 23, p. 176 (in the footnote).
Other letters take this theme a step further. Drawing on the Talmud’s teaching (Yoma 86b) that through “repentance from love” one not only earns forgiveness but can, in fact, transform their mistakes into positive accomplishments, the Rebbe would counsel people that not only is their future not lost, but even their past is redeemable! Sincere teshuvah has the capacity to transcend the limits of time. This 1967 English letter (Michtav Klali, period of Selichot, 5727, accessible at chabad.org/744109) elaborates:
“There is an accepted rule that no thing can become totally extinct. It applies also to human thought, word, and deed. This is to say that the thoughts, words, and deeds of yesterday, and of the day before, and prior to that, do not vanish without a trace; their influence lingers on, affecting the shape of things today and tomorrow, as evidenced in actual results, both in regard to the self and to the environment.
“Another point in this connection is this: Although at first glance it may appear that an action in the past is no longer under human control—i.e. the past is gone, and no person can retrieve it and alter it—this is really not so. For G‑d has given man a divine power by means of teshuvah to alter not only the course of the future, but also the power to directly affect the past as well: to change it, even to the extent of reversing it altogether, so much so that ‘willful transgressions are deemed as inadvertent errors,’ and can, moreover, be converted into positive accomplishments [Yoma 86b].”
See similarly Igrot Kodesh, Vol. 19, p. 448.
On a related note, see Here’s My Story (JEM), “Service-Oriented Teshuvah.” When a rabbinical student who had recently become religiously observant asked the Rebbe for advice on how to mend his past mistakes, the Rebbe responded: “Help other people not to falter and transgress in the ways that you did.”
Reflecting on this answer from the Rebbe years later, he said, “I heard it, I absorbed it, and I remembered it. But, honestly speaking, it took me years to figure it out. I’ve thought about it a lot, and the reason I am sharing it here is because I think it is important advice. This was the Rebbe’s instruction to a baal teshuvah, but it could apply to many people in a variety of situations. The Rebbe wasn’t telling me to work on myself—which of course is important, but it was not what I needed to focus on at that time. He was telling me to help others improve and, by doing so, I would end up improving myself as well.”
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In 1954, Gad Frumkin, an Israeli jurist and scholar who served as one of the few Jewish Supreme Court judges in Mandatory Palestine, wrote a letter to the Rebbe, and sent along a gift—his translation of the Mecelle (the civil code of the Ottoman Empire) into Hebrew. The following is an excerpt of the Rebbe’s response to him:
“It is fascinating that our sacred Torah’s legal code contains a fundamental difference from the legal codes of other nations—namely, the blanket absence of incarceration as a punishment. (The case where one is placed in a vaulted room [Sanhedrin 9:5] isn’t intended to be incarceration as a legal punishment, as the Mishnah explains there.)
“This, too, illustrates the Torah’s perspective on the great value of action and the preciousness of life. In the words of the verse, ‘Days are formed, and not one of them [is superfluous],’ indicating that all moments in a person’s life are significant. Because punishment in the Torah’s view is not for the purpose of revenge, but rather to correct or repair, therefore, there is no room to deprive a person of the capacity to act, even if it is done for the benefit of the public, as is the logic of prison. (With the sole exception of someone who is entirely unfit to fulfill their individual task, whose punishment is death.)
“We can learn from this three fundamental principles:
1. The tremendous value of every moment in a person’s life.
2. The tremendous value of the individual.
3. Even though a person has sinned—they are a human being, and they continue to have a unique mission from the Creator of the universe.”

See Exodus 7:7.

Recorded in the book Short Stories From The Rebbe, pp. 187-189.

Likkutei Sichot, Vol. 39, p. 297.

The response does not specify where in Tanya it is referring to. In conversation with a few Chasidic scholars, a few possibilities were suggested:
In chapter 1 of Tanya the Alter Rebbe explains the danger of considering oneself a wicked person because it can lead to carelessness about one’s actions.
In chapter 27, the Alter Rebbe explains that if one finds themselves thinking inappropriate thoughts, they mustn’t feel sadness and despair; instead they should see it as a joyful opportunity to do the mitzvah of diverting their mind from these thoughts. This can be understood as a tool for helping a person avoid falling into victimhood and self-pity over the proliferation of negative thoughts, and instead feel responsible and empowered.
In chapter 31, the Alter Rebbe addresses a person who is depressed over their lowly spiritual state, and sees themselves as a mere piece of flesh and blood full of crass cravings and misdeeds. He emphatically counsels a meditation to counter this, to uplift their spirit and change this gloomy and pitiful self-perception.

Megillah 6b.
This teaching of the Sages is brought in countless letters. Many letters cite it as an assuring promise: “If you toil, you will [certainly] succeed.” As one English letter puts it: “The road from hope to reality lies in effort and determination, as our Torah, the Torah of life, declares: ‘Try, and you will succeed.’”
Some letters point out that the Hebrew words of the Sages, “If you toil, you will find—umatzata,” indicate that the success you discover will be on an entirely different level than the amount of effort put in—just like when you find a precious object (in contrast to when you buy it with hard-earned money), there is an element of surprise, of beyond expectation, and a sense of being rewarded out of proportion to the effort invested. See, for example, Igrot Kodesh, Vol. 17, p. 311; Vol. 18, p. 517; Vol. 21, p. 420; Vol. 26, p. 446; Vol. 27, p. 447.
In a 1956 letter to Zalman Shazar, who was then a member of Israel’s parliament and later its president, the Rebbe shared a lesson on effort he gleaned from a seeming contradiction between two Talmudic statements (Yevamot 63a). One statement tells us that “whoever engages in building becomes impoverished,” while another statement (on the same page) implies [see Tosefot ad loc., s.v. “she’eiin lecha umanut”] that “whoever hasn’t a building is not a human.” How can these two statements be reconciled?
“And I thought to answer this seeming contradiction: In order to put up a building—a true building that surrounds and individualizes a person and all his possessions, raising them to their highest level, that is, the human level, called adam from the word adameh l’Elyon, i.e., reflecting the Divine—[to accomplish this,] a person’s overt strengths do not suffice, for not with them alone can one create an eternal edifice. Only when one ‘becomes impoverished,’ meaning, they invest all their overt strengths, and moreover draw on their hidden strengths, their essential strengths—only with this can one lay a foundation, build walls, and create an exalted ceiling, and it becomes “the beauty of a human (because they did their work, and toiled, and reached) to settle a home” [Isaiah 44:13].
This conclusion can be better understood in light of the spiritual meaning of the building components (foundations, walls, ceilings, etc.), especially as they are explained in the teachings of Chasidut, in the maamar of the Alter Rebbe titled Mizmor Shir Chanukat Habayit, printed in Likkutei Torah, Parshat Vezot Habrachah, pp. 98a-100d.
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On the subject of effort, another principle from the Sages (see Shir Hashirim Rabbah 5:2; Likkutei Torah, Parshat Korach, p. 55a; Likkutei Sichot, Vol. 1, p. 191, in footnote) that recurs in the Rebbe’s counseling is: “Open for Me like the eye of a needle, and I will open for you like the entrance of the ulam [the tallest and widest entranceway in the temple, leading into the Holy chamber].” This indicates that it is up to man to initiate and make an effort to open a crack. However, if you only make that first move—you are helped from above and the tiny crack is transformed into a large front-door opening. One letter (Igrot Kodesh, Vol. 9 p. 298) explains:
“There is entirely no need to feel down and dejected that you do not have consistent times for Torah study—because this is in your hands; at any given moment you can change this. In light of the approach in matters of holiness that ‘little by little will I dispel [negativity],’ it is not advisable to immediately accept upon yourself a few hours [of study]. Rather, in the beginning it should be a quarter of an hour or half an hour, preferably some of it in the morning and some at night…. However, you should insist on this quarter of an hour with determination. And once you break a path with this, over time it will become a well-trodden path, and you will be able not only to maintain this time commitment but also to increase it.
“Our Sages have taught us [See Berachot 61a, Sukkah 52b] that G‑d stands at the right of every individual to help them in their divine service, and if only they create an opening like the ‘eye of a needle,’ they are given an opening from above like ‘the entrance of the ulam.’ And the significance of the word choice—’like the opening of the ulam’—is known: The ulam famously didn’t have any doors [Middot 2:3], so that it was essentially always open. Thus, the work consists only of entering, which requires only breaking open a crack the size of a needle head.”

Petakim, Vol. 1, p. 30.
See also Otzar Hamelech, Vol. 1, p. 320 (“Stop the self-pity; use your talents as detailed above—and you will succeed…”). See also ibid., p. 73 (“Crying and questioning the way the world operates only complicates all the above. This is only an escape (since crying doesn’t take any effort at all) from fulfilling that which is your responsibility, for which you were given all the necessary capabilities, if only you truly resolve to do so.”)
In a 1965 talk (Likkutei Sichot, Vol. 10, p. 148) the Rebbe pointed to a fascinating Talmudic source about the inadequacy of tears when action is called for.
After Joseph reunited with his younger brother, Benjamin, the Torah records (Genesis 45:14): “With that, Joseph embraced his brother Benjamin around the necks and wept, and Benjamin wept on his neck.” The Talmud (Megillah 16b) points out that, peculiarly, the neck of Benjamin is referred to in the plural (necks), while Joseph’s is referred to in the singular. “How many necks did Benjamin have?”
The great sage Rabbi Elazar (3rd century CE) explained that this discrepancy alludes to a broader meaning in the cries of Joseph and Benjamin. “Joseph cried over the two [plural] Temples destined to be destroyed in the tribal territory of Benjamin. Benjamin cried over the [single] tabernacle of Shiloh that was destined to be destroyed in the tribal territory of Joseph.” The brothers cried for each other.
But, the Rebbe noted, this story is quite strange. While they surely cared about each other, “a person is their own closest relative,” and the future of their own temples must have mattered to them too. Why were they only crying about the other’s temple?
This captures a powerful idea: If you see a friend destroying their personal “temple,” of course you must do what you can to help. You can talk to them, advise them, encourage them—but in the end, it’s up to them. It’s their choice. After you exhaust your efforts, the sympathetic heart is left to cry, helplessly watching a friend’s temple going up in flames. But if your own temple is being destroyed? Don’t cry—do something! That is in your hands to change—so don’t wallow in misery, don’t be satisfied with tears, get on it! Thus, Joseph and Benjamin cried for each other’s temples. For their own temples, they weren’t going to cry. They were going to do something.
Those present at this talk recount the emphatic vigor with which the Rebbe explained this, to the point that these words echoed vividly in their minds half a century later.
A related Chassidic dictum (from the Rebbe Rashab, repeated by the Previous Rebbe) referenced numerous times in letters is: “A single act is better than a thousand groans” (Hayom Yom, entry for 8 Adar II). Some letters add, “All the more so a lot of acts.”

Igrot Kodesh, Vol. 12, p. 315.

Living Torah (JEM), program 754.

The Zohar (Vol. II, p. 162b) says, “Everything in the world depends on nothing but will.” Various sources point to this as the source for this known Jewish dictum, quoted in many letters of the Rebbe. In Kuntreis Limud Hachasidut, p. 29, the Previous Rebbe quotes the Mitteler Rebbe teaching this dictum to a Chasid in a private audience, and explaining the deeper meaning of it.

Tanya, beginning of chapter 2 (quoting Job 31:2).

English letter dated 4 Elul, 5739.