We are discussing taking on bite-sized pieces in our avodah during the month of Elul. In Alei Shur (Volume 2, page 216), Rav Wolbe teaches the vital concept of having patience with ourselves. Often, when we endeavor to improve and elevate our spiritual standing, we stumble due to our inherent human weaknesses. We forget our instability, and the Yetzer Hara attacks us.
How do we live with this reality? Rav Wolbe cites a Midrash in Avot d'Rabbi Natan, quoted by Rabbeinu Yonah in Sha'arei Teshuvah (Gate 2, Section 26) on the Mishnah: "Im ein ani li, mi li?" ("If I am not for myself, who will be for me?"). Rabbeinu Yonah explains that even if a person dedicates all their strength to self-refinement and constantly pursues wisdom, what are they? Human comprehension is limited and meager; even through tremendous effort and refinement, one attains only a fraction of virtuous qualities. Therefore, who am I, and what is my life if I am not dedicated to striving and laboring to improve my soul, knowing I am starting with such poor fabric?
He offers this mashal: There is a field of poor quality known as Ziborit. Even with extensive labor and cultivation, it yields only a meager crop; if left unworked, it will produce no vegetation whatsoever, yielding only thorns and thistles. In contrast, a field of prime soil, called Idit, will yield significant produce even if one does not toil over it.
This reflects the pasuk in Tehillim: "Ki Hu yada yitzrenu" ("For He knows our inclination"). This is comparable to a king who gave a field to his servants, commanding them to cultivate it, guard it, and bring thirty measures—let us say thirty tons—of grain each year. They toiled thoroughly and brought only five tons before the king. The king asked, "What have you done here? I asked for thirty, yet you brought five." They replied, "Our master, the king: The field you gave us is of poor quality. We worked with all our might, but despite all our toil, it could not produce any more."
This illustrates what it means to have patience with ourselves: understand that you are limited, and that the parcel of land we were given is not pristine.
Rav Wolbe continues: Even within our limited capability, we stumble repeatedly. Yet despite this, we must not despair; rather, we must insist on starting anew until, with Hashem's help, we succeed. Starting anew is the essence of the New Year. I once heard from Rabbi Diamond, the Rosh Kollel in Deal, quoting a rabbi who said: "Every day I start again, and even in the middle of the day, I start again as well."
Indeed, a person requires immense patience with themselves. Yet with all that patience, we must not make peace with our present shortcomings or become indifferent. We must walk consistently on our path and remain resolute in our desire to achieve perfection. Rav Wolbe emphasizes this balance: you cannot give up, nor can you push yourself beyond reason. I try, I fall, and I get up again. As the pasuk in Mishlei (24:16) states: "Sheva yipol tzaddik v'kam" ("A righteous man falls seven times and rises"). Even if we stumble, we must rise, and in the end, with Hashem's help, we will succeed.
It is fitting here to read the famous letter by Rav Yitzchak Hutner in Pachad Yitzchak (Igrot, Letter 128), written to a yeshiva student:
"Your letter arrived, but because I was unwell, the reply was delayed until now.
Regarding your situation: A widespread failing among us is that when we discuss the perfection of our great leaders, we emphasize the end state of their stature while completely omitting the inner wars that raged within them. The impression left by our description is that these figures emerged from the hand of their Creator in their complete, ultimate form. Everyone marvels and speaks with inspiration about the purity of speech of the Chafetz Chaim, but who knows about all the battles, struggles, stumbles, regressions, and setbacks that the Chafetz Chaim went through in his war with his Yetzer Hara? There are instances where one could count thousands of such struggles and falls before reaching that state of purity.
The result of this omission is that when a youth of spirit, ambition, and longing experiences a stumble, fall, or regression, he imagines he is not made of the stuff from which greatness is built. For according to his thinking, if he were truly meant to become great, these stumbles, falls, and regressions would not happen to him.
Know, my dear friend, that the root of your soul is not the tranquility of the Yetzer HaTov, but the warfare against the Yetzer Hara. Your letter speaks of your stumbles and setbacks, and you write that you feel discouraged because of them. I tell you that precisely through these falls, you will build a true sanctuary for Hashem.
Shlomo HaMelech stated: 'Sheva yipol tzaddik v'kam'. Mistaken people believe this means that even though a righteous man falls seven times, he nevertheless manages to get up. But the wise know well that the true meaning of the verse is that it is precisely because and through the seven falls that the righteous man arises. His rising emerges from these falls.
If I had not fallen, I would not have risen; had I not sat in the darkness, Hashem would not have been a light for me. Therefore, my dear friend, cast away your discouragement. Do not look at your stumbles as a sign that you are far from greatness; view them as the very arena where your greatness is being forged. Cling to your inner desire, continue the fight, and know that every battle lost is just a step toward winning the war.
Be strong and courageous, and stand firm in the battle. Your Rebbe holds high hopes for your growth and stands by you in your struggles.
— Yitzchak Hutner"
Nothing needs to be added; his words are profoundly powerful.
Another facet of patience is waiting for processes to unfold. In modern life, we struggle with waiting in traffic and expect instant results. We must understand the dual concepts of building and growing.
Rav Wolbe explores this in Binyan U'Zriah B'Chinuch. What is the difference between building and planting?
- Building proceeds brick by brick. It requires patience, but you know where you are heading: you have an architect, a blueprint, and a defined program. As it says, Boneh Yerushalayim—God builds Jerusalem; we build, and we see it take shape.
- Planting operates differently. Organic growth is not something that can be watched or micromanaged. If you plant a seed and constantly dig up the soil to inspect it, you destroy the growth process. You must have faith in the process, knowing that it will grow.
The same applies to Avodat Hashem. We are planting seeds. We may not see immediate progress, but over time, growth occurs.
The Gemara in Masechet Shabbat (31a) discusses Emunat Itecha, correlating the six orders of the Mishnah to spiritual concepts. The order of Zeraim (agriculture) corresponds to emunah (faith). Why is agriculture linked to faith? Tosafot, quoting the Talmud Yerushalmi, explains that one must have faith in the "Life of the Worlds" (God) and plant. Planting requires believing in what is hidden beneath the surface—believing that rain will fall, and that the seed must first decompose and break open before new life emerges.
This dynamic also mirrors geulah (redemption). We are currently in the hidden, underground stage, awaiting the sprout to emerge: Matzmiach Keren Yeshuah, Tzemach David.
Growth takes time. Alongside having patience with ourselves, we must have patience with the natural process of growth. As we prepare for the High Holidays, remember to believe in yourself and recognize steady, gradual progress. Look at where you were last year, where you were the year before, and recognize the continuous forward movement.