Missing a False Self

The Book of Isaiah says: “See, for my own peace I had bitterness upon bitterness. But You, in Your love, drew my soul up out of the pit of ruin, for You have thrown all my sins behind Your back.” The Question Anyone who has been through something like this asks one question at night, when he is alone with himself: “If I knew it was bitter, if I knew it was destroying me, why do I feel like I’m falling apart now that I’m out of it? Why is my body crying over the thing that destroyed me?” This really is puzzling. A person leaves a relationship that he knows in his own mind was bad for him. It may have been a marriage, a job, or any connection where another person controlled him. He does not feel relief. He feels lost, as if he has no life without that person. The question cuts to the bone: if it was so bitter, why is the pain of leaving seven times greater? Two Souls The way to understand this opens a whole door in Hasidic teaching. In the Tanya, the classic book of Hasidic thought, Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi teaches that every Jew truly has two souls. The first is the divine soul, which is a piece of Hashem above. By its very nature it longs for Hashem, for truth, for real life. Beside it lives the animal soul. Its whole nature is to search for vitality and pleasure in this world. This needs to be said clearly: the animal soul is not evil at its core. It is alive. It wants to live. The tragedy begins when it finds its source of vitality in a place that is not right for it. The animal soul, by its nature, learns. It gets used to things. As the saying goes, “Habit becomes second nature.” That is not just a worn-out phrase. It describes a real mechanism inside us. Suppose something outside you gives your animal soul the feeling that you are worth something, the feeling “I exist,” the feeling “I belong.” The animal soul then recognizes that thing as its provider, as the source of its life. Over time, it can no longer tell the difference between real vitality and the “drug” it has become addicted to. How the Darkness Works There are people whose whole skill is to set themselves up as the source of someone else’s life. This is a spiritual matter, not a personal one. In Hasidic teaching, this is called a “husk”: a force that hides the true light and puts itself in its place. Every conversation, every gesture, every small criticism slowly builds one single message: “Your worth comes from me. Without me, you are nothing.” The divine soul hears this and knows it is a lie. But the animal soul is searching for vitality. It wants to live. It is thirsty for the feeling of “I.” So it hears this and believes it. It does not believe it with the mind. It believes it with the body, in the nerves, deep down. In the language of Hasidic teaching, this is a subtle form of idol worship. It happens when we attach our feeling of being alive, our feeling of being worth something, to anything other than Hashem. Missing an Imagined Self Now we come to the heart of the matter. When a person finally gets out of this destructive relationship, the pain he feels is not longing for that person. It is not that person he misses. Deep in his heart he knows it was bitter. As Shai put it: “The whole relationship was bitter for me. All they wanted was my soul.” The pain is something else entirely. It is the cry of the animal soul, which has lost its “drug of life” and the “I” that was built around it. The person is not mourning “him.” He is mourning the imagined “I” he had grown used to. He is mourning the identity that was built around that relationship, and the feeling of existing, even though that feeling was false. This is not longing for love. This is withdrawal. It is like someone coming off an addictive substance. His body screams, and the habits inside him cry out. But that is not a call to go back. It is proof that the withdrawal has begun. What to Do with the Pain So what do you do with the pain? First of all, name it correctly. The pain is not proof that you need to go back. It is proof that your animal soul is looking for a source of vitality, and until now it was going to a false address. Now the address has to change. The work is to redirect that same deep need to draw nourishment. Do not crush it and do not cancel it, because the animal soul is never erased. Instead, turn it toward the true source. Torah and the commandments are not a cover-up for the pain. They are the true address, the place where the animal soul can learn to draw its vitality. The Torah says: “You shall love Hashem, your Lord, with all your heart.” Our Sages explain that “with all your heart” means with both of your inclinations. That includes the evil inclination, the inner voice that pulls us toward wrong. It includes the animal soul, and the side of you that just wants to live. All of them can turn upward. Who You Really Are The pain you feel right now is not proof that you are weak. It is proof that something alive in you wanted to live, and has not yet found its true place. Your soul is “a piece of Hashem above, truly.” It was never damaged. It was there the whole time, waiting. Your true identity is not the one that was built around “him.” It is the identity that is built around the “I” of the words “I am Hashem, your Lord.”