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Rabbi's Corner...
Yom Kippur Life Choices 5770
Rabbi Lucy H.F. Dinner
Temple Beth Or
Yom Kippur Morning, 5770
September 28. 2009
Life Choices
I. Intro:
When I was a little girl, every summer my brothers and I would spend a week with my grandparents in Paducah, Kentucky, while my parents traveled to conventions. My grandparents lived way out in the country, or at least that is what it seemed like to me, when we would drive into their long gravel drive, past the chicken yard, up to the house surrounded by trees so thick on every side that you could not spot the street or a neighbor. They had a coal furnace and well water; they composted, and they recycled aluminum foil, glass and newspaper, and burned the rest of the trash. Their life seemed a lot more complicated to me than my life in the sophisticated city.
Looking back now I realize that in fact I had that reversed. This point was driven home to me in the oddest of ways when I was replacing an old bottle of shampoo in my son’s shower. Peering behind the shower curtain, I saw no less than four bottles of shower products. Four bottles of shampoo, conditioner, body wash, etc…. This is in no way to disparage my son’s shower habits. Rather, that explosion of product took me to my own shower, where behold I found seven different cleansing aids. The sight of all those products took me back to those summers in my grandparents’ home where one brand of soap and one brand of shampoo sufficed for the whole family’s needs just fine. Indeed, my grandparents really did live a much simpler, less cluttered, more free existence.
We have come to associate unlimited choices with the basic tenets of our freedom as citizens of the United States of America. Our lives are filled with so many options that our senses and our psyche are frozen in an overload of decisions. This Holy Day is all about choices: choices for good, choices for evil, choices to turn back, choices to ignore, choices to forgive, or choices to harbor animosity yet one more year. When so much of our day is already taken up choosing between the nuances of gel pens, or roller ball fine points, cartridge pens, sharpees, or acid-free permanent, non-water soluble, felt tips, all available in a rainbow of colors, suddenly choosing, choosing anything at all seems more like torture than freedom.
II. The Paradox of Choice
Barry Schwartz, not our Barry Schwartz of the Jewish Community Center and the Raleigh Cary Jewish Federation, but Barry Schwartz, the Darwin Cartwright Professor of Social Theory and Social Action at Swarthmore College, penned a book all about this overabundance of choice and its effect on our lives. In The Paradox of Choice, Schwartz delineates how the plethora of choices promulgated by American culture encumbers the very freedom that they represent. He describes a trip to a typical store where he finds 150 different lipsticks, 360 kinds of shampoo, 90 cold remedies, 61 varieties of suntan lotion, and 80 different pain relievers. (Paradox of Choice, p. 10). That was a visit to a grocery store, not a drug store where they carry the full selection of these items. Does the world really need 46 different flavors of Gatorade in order to quench our collective thirst? How do you think they survive in other countries without a dozen different Cheerios options?
Schwartz’ proposition about what all of these choices have done for American society turns conventional wisdom on its head. He presents the paradox explaining: “people spend more time shopping than they used to.” They have more options available than they have ever had before. But,” Schwartz continues, “why do people [report that they] enjoy [shopping] less? And if they do enjoy it less, why do they keep [spending more and more time] doing it?” (Ibid, p.19) Flying in the face of “the standard line among social scientists” who say that: “added options only make us better off as a society,” Schwartz postulates that there is a point of diminishing returns upon which too many options cause people to waste valuable time on menial choices, to refuse to choose at all, or to become overwhelmed and even depressed by the constant bombardment of choices. His theory has found support from the new trends toward buying American, eating local, and toward books and magazines devoted to “voluntary simplicity.” (Ibid, p.21)
In this year of tough economic times, with the highest unemployment rate in North Carolina in decades, this “voluntary simplicity” has escalated from novelty to necessity. The promulgation of news stories on how to manage with less has unveiled a hopeful underside to the struggles. Whether it is “shopping in your home first” to stock your college student’s dorm room, or exploring the many free museums and parks in the Triangle, “voluntary simplicity” need not mean a change in quality of life. For most, it does require a change in approach and expectation.
III. Maximizers and Satisficers
In The Paradox of Choice, Schwartz focuses on individual outlook and expectation as the key component in finding fulfillment. He describes consumers as oriented to be either “maximizers or satisficers.” Which would you rather be: someone who says: “I maximized my day” or someone who comes home each day and answers: “it was satisfactory,” to “how was your day?” The cultural premise that undergirds this country: If you work hard, you will prosper, compels us to reach higher and higher. It’s the American way. Some would conjecture that it’s un-American not to “go for the max.”
Maximizers “seek and accept only the best,” while satisficers stop when they have reached a limited set of criteria that meet their standards. (Ibid, p. 78). In a world of ever expanding options, however, a maximizer is set up to never find satisfaction. Maximizers will comparison shop at every store within a hundred mile radius; they will spend hours on the internet researching the best deal. Then, the day after they make a purchase, a cheaper, better, higher quality widget will come out and buyers’ remorse sets in. The satisficers, on the other hand, know what they want, know what the product is worth to them; and, as soon as they find it, they get it, freeing themselves to move on to other priorities. Satisficers not only end up more satisfied, they also save countless hours and avoid the boundless anxiety that consumes the maximizers in their quest for the best.
Our culture is filled with maximizers. The advertisement industry feeds the frenzy, and encourages the promulgation of bigger, better, best, even when bigger, better and best are detrimental. One of the most egregious examples of this excess comes from the now oft maligned fast food industry. Super size your order, get twice as many fries and a quart of soda, for just 40 cents. The results have built us into super sized Americans, with the corresponding degeneration of our health and well being. The losses accruing from those 40 cent bargains keep growing, despite the widespread evidence of their detrimental effects. We are a nation addicted to maximizing, even when the aggregate result causes increased anxiety, poorer health, and marginal to no satisfaction.
The fast food industry did not invent maximizers; they only engaged in business practices to maximize their own productivity based on the prevailing American culture. The majority of this country’s retail establishments pitch their business acumen to attracting maximizers. Even before the recession, you could hardly walk past a store in the mall without being bombarded with deal after deal. I joke that one day they are going to pay us to take the clothes out of the store. If I buy three dresses, two at 65% off and one at 15% off with another 5% coupon off the total when I only needed one dress in the first place, am I really getting the best deal? When that double sized bag of lettuce and the six pounds of bananas that could only be bought in large quantities at the discount store go bad before your family can eat them what have you saved?
We respond to the whims that society keeps prescient, the ones that make a profit for the economy, but not necessarily the ones that affect our own wellbeing. For maximizers the things that we say we value most: love, trust, family, community, and respect, often fall off the radar screen in our zeal to optimize every choice. We struggle for hours and hours finding the best cell phone contract and hardly engage in meaningful minutes of conversation with our friends and family each day. We stay up until the wee hours of the night ferreting out the ultimate deal on flights and hotels for a few days of vacation, but don’t give a thought to updating our wills that are destined to impact our family for decades to come.
Schwartz’ The Paradox of Choice makes a strong case for how the surfeit of choices in our culture has caused an ensuing explosion of personal expectations. These rising expectations correspondingly have spun out past the point of attaining any “hedonic yield.” No wonder, Schwartz concludes that though a small percentage of individuals thrive under these conditions, on a global level “these values [of maximization] have a pervasive, toxic effect.” (Ibid, p.215) It is no surprise then that even well before the great recession that began a year ago that our country has been experiencing an “epidemic of depression.” (Ibid) The unattainable expectations, the blindness to the opportunity costs, and the drive to continuous comparison to others, drain the vitality out of our accomplishments. We have reached the point where our freedom hinges not upon having more choices, but precisely on our ability to limit our choices.
For many the economy has already propelled us into a pattern of setting more livable limits and creating more reasonable boundaries. Nonetheless, when the economy begins to turn around, unless we have changed our orientation from maximizing to satisficing we will return to the futility right where we left off. Just a couple of weeks ago at the anniversary of the collapse of Lehman Bros. prognosticators were bemoaning how little has changed in the banking industry. They forecast that without necessary regulations the banks will soon be back on their same untenable path with unsustainable highs and disastrous lows. The same holds true for us unless we are willing to commit to teshuvah – turning back to choices that match our core values and our faith.
IV. Bharta b’chayim: Make life enhancing decisions.
How then do we go about creating priorities that align the time, energy, and resources we expend to the import of the decisions that we make? How do we wean ourselves from that maximization culture? The answer lies in the centrality of this day. “B’charta B’chayim, l’maan yihiyeh. Choose life that you may live,” the Torah portion for Yom Kippur beseeches. Though the Israelites are poised to cross over into the land of Israel, that inheritance they have been anticipating for 40 years, the emphasis is not on that prized possession. “Choose life that you may live,” comes precisely at this juncture to warn the Israelites that though the land is precious, it is life that is sacred. The land is called Yisrael, named after the wrestling of our patriarch, Jacob. If our greatest possession is by name forever linked to struggle, then so too all things that can be possessed require us to wrestle. The command to “choose life” on the other hand is connected to sacred existence. “L’maan tihiyeh.” That you may live, make sacred choices.
In order to keep “b’charta bchayim” at the forefront when they enter the Promised Land, the Israelites are instructed to etch the outcomes of their choices, the blessings and curses, upon the mountains. Even when you are safely in the land of Israel, God says, especially when you are safely in the land, do not allow the beauty of this land flowing with milk and honey to divert you from the centrality of your purpose. When you look upon the mountains, do not be fooled into thinking that the mighty mountains God has provided protect you. Instead, behold the words carved upon those stones, the choices that bring blessing and the choices that yield curses. Choose life, choose blessing that you may live.
The land is the place of your inheritance; the life choices you make the destination of your days.
This Day of Atonement asks that we loose our hold on the maximization culture that so divorces the choices we make from our life priorities. Like the ancients, we too can envision those mountains witnessing to the blessings and the curses, reminding us “B’charta b’chayim l’maan tihiyeh,” make life worthy choices!
“Bcharta bchayim, l’maan tihiyeh” provides the rubric that defines the nature of all decisions that follow. On Yom Kippur we are called to account to the standard of “Bcharta Bahayim.” Did we sin by failing to “choose life,” in the year gone by? Will we complete our path through t’shuvah, so that we may live, in the unfolding New Year?
A. Accept that you are all you need to be.
“Bcharta bchayim, l’maan tihiyeh” provides the rubric that defines the nature of all decisions that follow. Yom Kippur calls us to account for our lives by the standard of “Bcharta Bahayim.” Did we sin by failing to “choose life,” in the year gone by? Will we complete our path through t’shuvah, so that we may live, in the unfolding New Year?
Teshuvah, Turning to life worthy choices, begins through self-acceptance. We open Yom Kippur with Kol Nidrei, the admission of our frailty, that because we are human we will fail. The Kol Nidrei is a soul-rousing reminder that teshuvah does not ask perfection of us. Rather, teshuvah asks that we reconfirm our intention to return to the path that God has set out for us, despite the fact that we will never ultimately reach that goal of perfection. Rabbi Harold Kushner, the patriarch of Judaism’s spiritual consolation, suggests that there is a difference between being perfect and being complete. Self-acceptance involves understanding that we can be whole, though we will never be perfect. He uses the story of Jacob wrestling with the angel as an example: "At the end of the struggle, Jacob is injured and limping, but the Bible nonetheless describes him as shalem, a Hebrew word with connotations of wholeness, integrity, being at peace with oneself. . . . In a sense, Jacob has won by losing." That is the essence of self-acceptance, coming to the reconciliation that God does not ask us to be more than we are. And then going one step beyond to win by admitting that our frailty is also a part of our wholeness and our integrity. With acceptance of our whole self, we can begin to make life worthy choices, and make the best decisions we can given who we are.
B. Choose through your passions
As we accept ourselves we realize that there is a difference between the roles we play and who we are. Over the course of a lifetime most people will hold well over two-dozen jobs. Some jobs get us through a season; some jobs serve as a stepping-stone on the journey; some jobs keep us floating just above water; and some jobs engage us in the real work of our lives. Our jobs call on us to accomplish discreet tasks, our work calls on us to unearth the divine spark God has planted within us and to offer from it our gifts to the world. The jobs we hold will pay the bills, and hold down the fort. The work we do will lift our hearts and unveil our passions. Life worthy choices stir us to maintain a connection to our work, regardless of our current job. Life worthy choices challenge us to find an opening for that divine spark even in the most menial of tasks, even in a job we loathe.
C. Pick and Choose
“Bcharta bchayim, l’maan tihiyeh” Choose life, that you may live, begins with acceptance, is defined by the divine gifts planted within the heart, and is sustained through the discernment of where the heart can place its work most fully. It comes down to the ability to know the difference between picking and choosing. Picking is a random, often whimsical activity. Choosing calls for intentionality and insertion of self. Too often we find ourselves utterly consumed by menial decisions, which overshadow the important choices of our days. Accepting ourselves and lifting our God-given passion we can stay focused on when to pick and when to choose in life:
Pick the sock color that matches your pants.
Choose the deeds that match your words.
Pick the channel that gives you the news you want, when you want it.
Choose the friends who challenge you to grow and learn, when you least expect it.
Pick a carrier for your phone, your cable, and your Internet.
Choose your message and how you express it.
Pick a game to play with your children.
Choose to keep your cool even when their games drive you crazy.
Pick a place to sit at services.
Choose the prayers that offer a dwelling place for your heart.
Pick a secret pass code for your Ebay account.
Choose a code of ethics that girds your work.
Pick a hairstyle that reflects your personality.
Choose a time each day to reflect on who you are.
Pick a number from one to a hundred.
Choose the partner you want to live with until you are 120.
Pick a blanket to keep you warm at night.
Choose to dwell under the shelter of God’s Presence.
The Wisdom of our Sages Pirke Avot instructs: Who is rich? The ones who are satisfied with what they have. (4:1)
On this Day of Atonement I would add: Who is satisfied? Those who truly live by their choices.
Ken Yehi Ratzon: May it be God’s Will
May it be our Will
AMEN
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