Soul Freedom – “Eudaimonic” Vs. “Hedonic” Well-being

by Rabbi Yoseph Kahanov Jax, FL

“We become aware of the void as we fill it” (Antonio Porchia).

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A skillful fiddler caused a large crowd of pedestrians to clap their hands and lift their feet as he played lively tunes in the center of the town’s square. Unable to hear the music, a deaf passerby stopped to observe the strange spectacle. As he watched the people bounce and swirl, he wondered to himself: “What has gotten into these people, why in the world do they act this strange?”

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Is it just me, or is the world waking up to Torah reality? The reason I ask this question is because wherever I turn these days, I seem to run into another ancient Torah principle being touted as a brilliant new discovery. A recent article, in the Wall Street Journal, is just the latest of this type of discovery on the part of secular society.

The article, to which I refer, was published on Thursday March 15, 2011, entitled: “Is Happiness Overrated.” It introduces a concept called “Eudaimonic well-being,” a phenomenon which happens to resemble an essential Jewish life perspective regarding the age old quest for happiness.

The article’s author, Shirley S. Wang, asserts that according to new research, happiness as people usually think of it—the experience of pleasure or positive feelings—is far less important to physical health than the type of well-being that comes from engaging in meaningful activity – a phenomenon researchers refer to as “Eudaimonic well-being.”

“Happiness research, a field known as ‘positive psychology,’ is exploding,” says Wang. “Some of the newest evidence suggests that people who focus on living with a sense of purpose as they age are more likely to remain cognitively intact, have better mental health and even live longer than people who focus on achieving feelings of happiness.

In fact, in some cases, too much focus on feeling happy can actually lead to feeling less happy, researchers say.

The pleasure that comes with, say, a good meal, an entertaining movie or an important win for one’s sports team—a feeling called “hedonic well-being”—tends to be short-term and fleeting. Raising children, volunteering or going to medical school may be less pleasurable day to day. But these pursuits give a sense of fulfillment, of being the best one can be, particularly in the long run.

‘Sometimes things that really matter most are not conducive to short-term happiness,’ says Carol Ryff, a professor and director of the Institute on Aging at the University of Wisconsin, Madison.

‘Eudaimonia’ is a Greek word associated with Aristotle and often mistranslated as ‘happiness’—which has contributed to misunderstandings about what happiness is. Some experts say Aristotle meant “Well-being” when he wrote that humans can attain eudaimonia by fulfilling their potential.

Striving to live a meaningful life or to do good work should bring about feelings of happiness, of course. But people who primarily seek extrinsic rewards, such as money or status, often aren’t as happy, says Richard Ryan, professor of psychology, psychiatry and education at the University of Rochester…”

While I tend to agree with what Ms. Wang has to say and the fascinating research that she quotes, I can’t exactly agree with the novelty of it all. In fact what she presents is actually Judaism 101.

The distinction between monetary short term pleasures, versus meaningful long term happinesss is indeed a fundamental Jewish tenet – which happens to be one of the major themes of the upcoming holiday of Pesach. But you don’t have to take my word for it. Allow me to present some of the classic commentary vis-à-vis the message of the Passover holiday and its age old lessons, and you judge for yourself.

As we know, on the fifteenth day of the Hebrew month of Nissan, over 3,000 years ago, the Children of Israel were liberated from the tyranny of Egyptian bondage, by the mighty hand of G-d.

The barrage of shock and awe type signs, which rained down upon the land of Egypt; rocking it to its foundation, had a magical affect in breaking the iron resolve of the wicked Pharaoh and the cruel Egyptian tormentors. Over twenty decades of brutal slavery and suffering had thereby come to an abrupt end.

Throughout history Jews have observed the Divine call to mark that date with the festival of Passover – one of Judaism’s foremost holidays. The miraculous liberation from Egyptian bondage is in fact considered to be the inaugural event and cornerstone of our faith and nationhood.

The popular “Seder,” with all its exotic rituals and traditions, is indeed a central component of Jewish creed and culture. So what is the inner message behind the salient symbolisms of this important festival?

To comprehend this, we need to first understand the meaning of a baffling Talmudic declaration – one that has actually made its way into the Haggadah (the narrative that we are each obligated to recite during the Passover Seder): – “In each and every generation one must view himself as though he had himself gone out of Egypt.”

To be sure, the Rabbis were well aware that none of us have ever been enslaved in Egypt, or for that matter, have ever even been to Egypt. Why then would they have us make such an absurd statement?

Among the explanations offered, is the notion that “Liberation from Egypt” is an enduring cosmic phenomenon, one that reaches well beyond the actual historic event. This idea is supported by the fact that the Hebrew word for Egypt – “Mitzrayim,” means “Constrictions” and “Limitations.”

In view of the above, the stated Talmudic exhortation does not speak of the Egyptian bondage per se, but of its microcosmic equivalent – our personal and individual Mitzrayim. In fact, Chassidic philosophy places great emphasis on “Personal freedom,” in its depiction of the essential holiday message and theme. So what, after all, is personal freedom and how is it achieved?

The answer lies in another Talmudic statement, one that is equally perplexing: “One is not ‘Free’ unless he is preoccupied with the study of Torah.”

But how is this to be understood? What does Torah have to do with freedom? To the contrary, the Torah is replete with what many would consider to be restrictions – “Thou shalt” and “Thou shalt not” – how then can the Rabbis in all honestly call this freedom?

It is rather obvious from this, that the Torah’s perception of freedom is quite different from that of the secular and colloquial perspective. The secular idea of freedom revolves around man’s ability “To do what he wants.” To do what one wants requires little thought or self-discipline; it is to follow the path of least resistance. However, while to do what one wants is easy, the rewards are rather shallow and short lived, as the saying goes “The path of least resistance is all the way down hill.”

This is to say that while in the short run it may feel good to do what one wants, it is not the case in the long term. After the immediate impulse and gratification ware off it usually does not feel nearly as good. More often than not, one ends up regretting having succumbed to his raw urges and impulses, as the lyrics of an old song suggest: “I hate myself for loving you.”

The Torah’s definition of freedom, by contrast, is “To want what one does,” that is to feel good about the choices one makes and things he does in the long run; well after the initial pleasure has worn off. To want what one does, is to be comfortable with whom we are and the life we lead. The latter requires a measure of self-discipline based upon higher moral wisdom and guidance, hence the assertion that “One cannot be truly ‘Free’ unless he is preoccupied with the study of Torah.”

Torah style freedom does not focus solely on the body but on the soul as well. Since man is not a mere physical entity but rather a body and spirit combined, it is necessary to nurture the spiritual dimension as well as the physical. The nourishment of man’s higher spiritual self is not a matter of luxury – an exercise reserved for the spiritually inclined – it is rather a human necessity.

This notion is portrayed in the following analogy offered by the Lubavitcher Rebbe: Freedom is clearly a subjective phenomenon that varies in accordance with the needs of each thing and the manifest void created in its absence. A plant for example, derives its contentment through conditions that are most conducive to organic growth such as water, air and light. Plants have no need or desire for such things as mobility and the like.

To the animal however, the plant’s level of freedom and comfort is anything but satisfactory. An animal can never be contented with water and air alone while constrained to a distinct location. An animal requires the independence of mobility. Its needs include the ability to roam freely from place to place. This is true regardless of the fact that there is no tangible component, or organ, within the animal that accounts for this need. The proof of the need is the need itself.

By the same token, what might be considered optimum conditions for the animal can be very restrictive to the human being. Should man, for instance, be granted all his material needs but be denied any form of intellectual nourishment, he would no doubt find the situation highly repressive.

As an intellectual creature, freedom in man’s eyes must include the ability for intellectual stimulation and development.

The same is true, albeit less conspicuous, with man’s need for higher spiritual purpose. This is to say that all the non-spiritual matter in the world cannot satisfy the cravings of man’s soul. The higher spiritual dimension within man will only reach completion when its spiritual aspirations are nurtured.

In summary, an essential component of the human composition is his spiritual consciousness. This consciousness has its own set of needs. In fact, according to the teachings of Chassidus, the earliest tangible manifestation of the soul is a deep felt void – a need for true purpose and meaningful accomplishment.

To ignore our spiritual dimension is no different than to ignore our bodies’ needs for food and water, or to neglect the human necessity for intellectual stimulation. Man can never be truly free if he does not care for his higher essence – his soul.

The lesson of Passover is that in each and every generation, each and every one of us must make the journey out of Mitzrayim – constriction. We must acquire freedom not just of the body but of the soul as well. Pesach is a highly apropos and auspicious time for this endeavor.

May we all experience true freedom, physically and spiritually. May we merit the ultimate redemption that will take place with the coming of the righteous Moshiach BBA.

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