Toldot

Reflections on parsha and practice

As I write this, I am on the plane home to Texas to see my siblings - all 8 of us will be there this Thanksgiving, a rare occurance!

My mom claims she doesn't have a favorite, although she once said, "But if I did, it would be your sister!" Like Jacob and Esau in this week's parsha, there was a fair amount of conflict and competition between us as kids. But now that we're adults, my sibling relationships feel loving and relatively easeful. What changed?

Jacob and Esau aren't the only struggling siblings in the Torah. Our first sibling example - Cain and Abel, ends in murder. Then we have Isaac and Ishmael, Rachel and Leah, Joseph and his brothers - so much competition, conflict, resentment. Finally, in Shmot, Moses, Miriam, and Aaron present a different possibility for siblinghood: collaboration. They work together, each contributing unique gifts that are essential for the deliverance of the Israelites.

There's a dichotomy here: a sense of scarcity of attention, leadership opportunity, or specialness - vs. the truth that each one's gifts are needed for the well-being of the collective. In any of our relationships, how can we move from competition to collaboration?

Often my meditation practice has to do with cultivating a clear understanding of Self - to answer the timeless question, "Who am I?" - which is only meaningful when I consider myself in the context of others. There is a sweet intersection in the space between my own desire for self-expression, and what role my community is calling me into - and therein lies my true calling.

Living into this intersection requires 'anava' - often translated as humility, it is more correctly understood as 'taking up the right amount of space in any given moment.' We need to ask, what voices are missing here? How can I do my part to make space for them? Sometimes, having 'anava' means garnering courage and leading boldly. And sometimes it means stepping back and releasing control. Anava requires a generous heart, and trust in a deep knowing that when we tend to the collective, everyone wins.

Perhaps what has changed between my siblings and I is the realization that there is no scarcity of love. We can see each other for our unique and essential contributions to the family. Perhaps true maturation means shifting focus from "me" to "we," and celebrating one's place in the whole.