Good morning, Rabotai (my masters). We’re continuing our study of Eshet Chayil. We’re in the fifth pasuk (verse). We’ve been studying the balanced person, like a balanced ship. Yesterday, we spoke about the balance between feeling accomplished and knowing what we didn’t do.
Yesterday, we spoke about Abraham Avinu after the greatest accomplishment: the Akedah, the tenth test that put Abraham Avinu and his future on a different level. Right after that, the pasuk says, “They came back to the young men who were waiting for them,” and they did not show even the slightest arrogance or ego, even though they had just accomplished something at 137 years of age. Abraham Avinu was 137 years old at that point, and this was his greatest accomplishment. And yet, with all of God’s blessings that came out of it, Abraham Avinu did not show off, gloat, or talk about what he had accomplished.
And, by the way, it showed in the way he behaved when he came to the world—when he came back. There’s a question. Abraham Avinu came home and right away heard that his wife had passed away. The way he reacted—with such grace, calm, and strength—is what we spoke about on Friday. We spoke about Abraham Avinu and how he acted so appropriately with Ephron and the Bnei Het. That is actually connected to what we did yesterday.
We explained yesterday that Abraham Avinu was able to behave the way he did because he understood that in life, you take credit for making a decision. That’s all you did. But all the success and results that came out of it have nothing to do with you. They are a gift that you should thank the Creator for. And actually, the greater the accomplishment, the more humble you become. When you realize that you didn’t do it and that you only made the choice—which, again, is something to be proud of—and you realize that it’s the Creator who made it happen, you actually become more humble. You realize how thankful you should be for being the recipient of the gift that you gave to Abraham Avinu, of such a great result.
So actually, when a person does something big, it makes him even more humble. As Yaakov Avinu says, the more kindness I see Hashem doing for me, the smaller I feel. When a person feels that he did something, the more arrogant he becomes. The more he feels like he’s doing. But when a person realizes that the only thing he did was make his choice, and that everything else—from the setup of the circumstance to the consequence, the results, and all that took place—was not him, then the bigger the accomplishment, the more humble he becomes. He becomes more thankful.
If Hashem gave you only something small to accomplish after your decision, you have that much appreciation. If He gives you something bigger, then you have even more appreciation, and therefore you become more humble. So actually, the Akedah, instead of being the event that made Abraham the most haughty, made him the most humble. He felt so much thanks for such a result, for such a situation that Hashem put him in, and for helping him go all the way and fulfill the nisayon (test). It was a great feeling of gratitude to Hashem. So the more you do, the more humble you should become. Follow? The more you achieve, the more humble it should make you, if you’re a balanced person.
If you’re not a balanced person, you see the achievement as yours, and you start to think a lot of yourself. Then come the many problems of life, like ego, kavod (honor), and disappointment in the way people treat you. Sometimes you get disappointed in your own family because they don’t realize how hashuv you are, how important you are. All of a sudden, your world starts to fall apart, all because you’re off balance. You took credit for great accomplishments that you’re not doing.
But if you’re balanced, and you see that all you did was make the choice and Hashem did the rest for you, you become more humble. You say, “What I do deserves this?” As you become more humble, the world around you becomes much more beautiful, because now you realize that you don’t deserve a lot of things. You’re overwhelmed by the blessings, and you can’t believe how much you’ve received and continue to receive.
This explains how Abraham Avinu was able to deal with the passing of Sarah Imenu. People ask, “How does he come home after the greatest act in his life, after 137 years of a great life, the number one, the top, and then his wife passes away? How can it be that he’s not disappointed? How can it be that he’s not asking, ‘After what I just accomplished, this is the way Hashem rewards me?’ This is the way Hashem rewards me. This is the way Hashem rewards me. This is the way Hashem rewards a mitzvah (commandment). I come home on top of the world, and I lose my wife. How can that be?”
People say, “I can’t believe it. How did he do it? How did he do it?” He did it. Abraham Avinu wouldn’t understand your question. Abraham Avinu wouldn’t understand even what you’re talking about. Some things need an answer, but some things are not even a question. Abraham would say, “What’s the question? What did I accomplish? What did I accomplish? I made a good choice. It was a great choice. Maybe it was a hard choice.” But he didn’t have that feeling. He didn’t have that ego, that entitlement, because he actually felt more humble for the great blessing of such a great thing that God gave him.
So it’s not a question why he didn’t feel cheated when he came home and lost his wife. “I wasn’t cheated.” If someone gives you so much and then takes something away, you don’t feel cheated by him. When you think you gave someone so much and then they take something from you, then you feel cheated. But if someone gave you so much and then took away something, that’s not the feeling of being cheated. It’s not a question. The only one who would ask that question is someone who is not balanced, who thinks that they’re the one accomplishing things. “I’m giving Hashem so much. Hashem, I just gave You this. How could You take this away from me after what I gave You?”
It’s all a bilbul. Bilbul means the person is all confused, and because he’s confused, he sees a world of confusion. If he would put his head in the right place, he would see a world of confusion. It’s we who are mebulbal, not the world. It’s we who are not clear.
This also explains how well Abraham Avinu behaved with Ephron and Bnei Het: his composure and humility in speaking to them. These are low people compared to the great Abraham. But Abraham didn’t see the world like that. He saw himself as a very blessed person who therefore owes more than anybody else. He didn’t look at them as lower than him. Actually, he looked at himself as someone who owes more than they do. So possibly they may even be greater than him in his eyes, because look how much God has blessed them. He has given him more than them. So the fact that he is doing more is a product of Hashem’s blessing; maybe they don’t have that same opportunity.
So he didn’t look at people as low people. He viewed himself as a person who was very blessed and therefore owed so much more than anybody else. So he’s not disappointed by Sarah Imenu’s death. He’s not going to show his kavod or his ego or his... in the dealings with Ephron and the people. He doesn’t talk like that. He doesn’t speak to people as if they’re lower than him. Why? Because he understands reality. He’s a balanced person. He knows that all he did was a small part, and everything else was a gift.
The more a person lives his life that way, the more his relationships start to beautifully come together. His home becomes a humble home. A humble home is a blessed home. A person who is humble in his home is a person who is going to see Beracha (blessing) in his home. A marriage with humility is a different marriage. What makes marriage very challenging and sometimes causes it to fall apart? Arrogance. Or, better yet, entitlement. A person feels, “I deserve. After all that I do, I deserve. I deserve.” Both parties feel they deserve, and that’s where Gehinam (Hell) begins. When people are together and they each feel deserving, why do they feel deserving? Because they do so much. They think that since they do so much, they deserve. They’re never going to get the amount they think they deserve, because their idea of what they deserve is probably in Shamayim (Heaven), while reality on the ground doesn’t see it that way. It ends up being a very unfortunate relationship.
This happens not only in marriage but in every relationship. A Rabbi teaches his students or has a Kahal (congregation), and at some point he says, “Look what I’ve done for these people.” When they don’t reciprocate properly, what does he do? He goes home and tells his wife, “I can’t believe it. After all that I’ve done for them, this is the way they talk to me. This is the way they treat me.” Whether he tells his wife or not, that’s the way he feels. He becomes a miserable Rabbi who says, “Ah, it’s not worth it. All the investment—not worth it. Look at the way the people react. Look at what they do. They don’t appreciate anything.”
This is what happens to a lot of good people who do a lot of good but lose their balance on the ship, and then the ship sinks. They misunderstood reality and became very disappointed in situations they really should not be disappointed in. It all started from a bad place. Their ship is not in the right place. So who can be disappointed? Anyone who does good. The more good you do in this world, the bigger the trap of disappointment. The better a father or mother you are to your children, the more disappointed you’re going to be if you’re off balance. “After all I do for my kids—what I give them, what I take them to, what I do—this is how they pay me back?” This attitude, this mindset, is so destructive. It’s the trap of being a good person. It’s the trap of doing for others.
You’re doing for others, and then your children disappoint you. Your wife disappoints you. Your husband disappoints you. Your students disappoint you. Your employees disappoint you. You go out of your way for your employees. You gave them a bonus, much more than expected. Two weeks later, they come for a raise: “Wow, you’re not paying me enough. I’m not appreciated here.” You think, “What? You’re all right. I did it for you.” And you get disappointed by so many people who, in your mind, should be bowing to you.
Abraham Avinu, if he were an off-balance person, would be waiting for Bnei Het, the Am Ha’aretz (people of the land), to bow to him. But he’s bowing to them. A balanced person doesn’t lose himself, and his relationships start to come together in the most beautiful way. This is one of the great challenges of life.
On this point, there is an important point that we should point out. In Parashat Terumah, we find that Hashem told Moshe Rabbeinu, “Daber El Bnei Yisrael,” speak to Bnei Yisrael; “Ve’yikchu li Terumah,” and they should give a donation to the building of the Mishkan, my home. “Daber”—talk to them.
Baal HaTurim says over here, “Daber El Bnei Yisrael, Patach Daber b’Lashon Piyus (Begin speaking in appeasing language).” Lashon Piyus, says the Baal HaTurim, means that Daber means appease them. The word “appease” comes from the word Piyus. To appease. Appease them. Meaning, try to convince them. Tell them, “Listen, if you find it in your heart to help build the Mishkan, to help Hashem build His edifice, maybe you could help us with a donation. Maybe you can give something of yours.” Daber, Lashon Piyus. Don’t go up to them and say, “Give money. We’re building the Mishkan; give money.” No, no, no. Daber: appease them. Try to get them to be convinced to give.
That’s a little bit hard to understand, because in reality, the money they had came from a miraculous lottery that they basically won when Hashem gave them all the riches of Egypt. All the wealth they had was not something they worked for. It was all given to them by the Creator. So where is the Hakarat HaTov (gratitude)? Don’t we owe someone Hakarat HaTov when they give us everything? Don’t we owe them gratitude for that? Don’t the Jewish people owe gratitude to Hashem for all the money He gave them for free?
You know, when a person works for money, he may convince himself that he made the money, which, as we’re learning, is not true. But at least there you understand why he may fall into that trap. After all, he goes to work, makes decisions, buys, sells, and talks. But in this situation, it was clear. They didn’t work a day in their lives, and they were wealthy people. God gave them wealth without their working. So, in that clarity of receiving God’s blessings, don’t they owe Hashem gratitude? And therefore, if He’s building a house, if He’s building an edifice, shouldn’t they be forced to give because they owe the Creator?
When someone owes you money—you sold them goods, and he owes you money—do you go appease him to pay you? That’s not the way it’s supposed to be. He owes you money. You call him up and say, “You owe me something. Please pay it. You’re past due.” So here, isn’t Hakarat HaTov, isn’t appreciation, an obligation? Isn’t that a bill that you owe the Creator? So why is the Baal HaTurim saying that Hashem told Moshe Rabbeinu, “When you go tell them, don’t tell them you owe Me”? That’s what he’s saying. “Don’t tell them you owe God. Appease them,” meaning, try to convince them that they should give out of the goodness of their heart. Why is that the right way for them to give? What happened to the Hakarat HaTov?
I once told you a very important principle, and it’s very much connected to what we’re learning, to this balanced person. When it comes to financial transactions, when somebody owes money to someone, when Reuven owes Shimon money, Shimon also has the right to demand the money. Reuven owes Shimon a thousand dollars. Shimon has the right to go to Reuven and say, “You owe me a thousand dollars. Pay me.” So both sides have a connection to this money. One must pay, and the other has the right to ask for and demand the money. That’s the way it works in the financial world. You owe me, so I have the right to demand my money.
In the world of Hakarat HaTov, it’s a little tricky, because it’s not like everything else in life, as I just described. Hakarat HaTov is not the same. Does someone owe Hakarat HaTov to someone who did them a favor? Reuven saved your life; he gave you a kidney. You owe him Hakarat HaTov. You owe him the world. You owe him. The way the Torah teaches us how to reciprocate is beyond our imagination. We have to go so far.
For example, the Torah says that we have to be careful not to distance the Egyptian too much from us. They want to marry a Jewish girl. So for one or two generations, we don’t let them, but in the third generation, you already let them marry a Jewish girl. The Torah says why: because you can’t treat the Egyptian like he’s a nobody. He hosted you in his country. You lived by him. You lived by him. We were slaves to him. They were torturing us. But the Torah says, “You can’t forget that you lived by him.” One wrong doesn’t cover the right. He did something good for you. You owe him. The fact that he did something wrong to you is not a good thing, but it doesn’t take away the good that he did. Therefore, you have to be mindful of that, and you can’t completely push them away.
Ammon and Moab we completely pushed away. They were never allowed to marry a Jewish girl. But the Egyptian who converts can marry in the third generation. Why? Not because he’s so special. Because you owe him. You were living in his land. They opened their land for you. So there’s a limit. Hakarat HaTov. The amount of Hakarat HaTov we need to show to those who gave to us—the obligation is great.
But don’t fall. Don’t fall into the trap. It’s not like financial transactions. With Hakarat HaTov, it’s only a one-way street, and we must always remind ourselves to be balanced in this area. What does it mean that it’s a one-way street? It means you owe tremendous Hakarat HaTov to the guy who gave you a kidney, or to anyone who did you a favor, small or large. You owe that person however you can pay them back: with a favor, with money, with whatever it is. But unlike financial transactions, just because you owe doesn’t create, on the other side, someone who has the right to demand. You don’t have the right to demand Hakarat HaTov. That’s a very big point.
Meaning, if you go over to your children and say, “After all that I did for you, don’t you think you owe me this?” No. No good. They may owe you. They do owe you. But you can’t demand it. Better yet, you can’t demand payment for what you did for them. You have to teach them to fulfill their obligation to you. It’s a little different. But you can’t demand it as a right, because they owe you. Follow?
Again, one more time: there’s a difference between teaching a child how to pay his bills to his parents and the parents giving the feeling that they have the right to demand reciprocation from him. It may seem very similar, but it’s worlds apart. Teaching a child how to pay his bills is very different from saying, “You owe me.” The attitude is different. The wording is different. The expectations are different.
A guy gives you a kidney. “He’s not in our Torah, he’s not allowed to demand Hakarat HaTov.” Why? Wait—why did you give a kidney? You have to ask him on day one. “Why are you giving the kidney? We’re going to interview him. Why are you giving this person a kidney? Is this a financial transaction?” He says, “No, no, no, no.” “Is someone forcing you to do it?” “No, God forbid.” “Why are you giving your kidney to a stranger?” He says, “You know why? Because I want to do kindness.” That was on the interview. You want to do kindness? That’s why you did it.
Once you want to do kindness, if you demand something in return, then your kindness has a string attached. If there’s a string attached, then it’s not kindness. It’s not pure kindness, for sure. Basically, you’re giving someone kindness and expecting something back from him. So it’s putting a stain on your kindness. Kindness by definition means you’re doing something unselfishly for someone else. But once you expect something back, like money, a gift, or whatever, then it’s not kindness, at least not pure kindness. It’s tainted. That’s why a person is not allowed, or doesn’t have the right, to demand appreciation. From his angle, once he demands appreciation, it shows that his act is no longer the pure kind act it was before. That’s a big point.
Someone says, “Listen, I see you work hard for your children. You take care of them, bathe them, diaper them. Tell me, why are you doing all this?” Most normal people would say, “What do you mean? I want to take care of them. Kindness. Helping my kids. I’m there for them.” Once you’re doing it because of kindness—and that’s why we should do it—we should take care of our children because of kindness, our wives because of kindness, and anybody because of kindness.
I get a very big donation to build a yeshiva. Why did you do it? Why did you do it? “What do you mean? You’re kidding? I know that kindness, that giving to others in need, is the greatest thing I can do. I’m so excited to give.” But after you give, if you’re waiting for someone to recognize you, you get disappointed because people didn’t give you as much recognition as you thought you should get. They didn’t call you enough times to say thank you, or recognize you in public the way you thought you should be recognized, or whatever the reason. Then all of a sudden, you’ve turned your kindness into an investment.
One time, a person told me that somebody he knows is very upset with me. I asked him, “Why? What did I do to him?” He said, “He’s very disappointed.” I said, “Why?” He said, “Because one time he gave the yeshiva a donation, and he feels like there hasn’t been enough appreciation on your side.” And Hifsid, the guy, is miserable. I felt bad for him. He’s miserable. He feels terrible. But that’s not the right approach. It’s the wrong approach.
Of course, maybe I was wrong. My job is to appreciate him, so that’s my mistake. Maybe I didn’t do enough, and he’s right on that. But he has no right to feel bad. If he feels bad for me because he loves me so much and feels that I’m not doing the right thing, and that’s why he feels bad, then that’s one thing. But I don’t think that was the case. So I took the message very seriously because it was my fault. If someone feels unrecognized and unappreciated, then it’s my fault. First of all, he didn’t give me the money. But at the end of the day, he helped me do something beautiful and great. Okay, so then I have a job to appreciate him.
But you should feel bad because somebody isn’t recognizing you? Your children aren’t recognizing you? A parent could feel bad that their children don’t have the right Hakarat HaTov, because it’s not good for them not to have appreciation. That much you can feel bad about. But you should feel bad that you’re unappreciated? That is the trap of kindness. The more kindness you do, the more people you help, the more you’re going to fall into that trap. And you’re going to start hating people.
That’s why you’ll see many, many, many big-hearted people—check in with them 10 years later, 20 years later—and they hate everybody a little bit. You’ll see a lot of good-hearted people, a lot of good-hearted people who give their lives to others and give their money. Fast-forward 10, 15, 20 years—how many years?—and they hate everybody a little bit, because they don’t feel appreciated enough by all the people they’re doing kindness for. It’s such a terrible trap. You see how a person who goes off balance, meaning they’re not understanding what’s happening, all of a sudden has their ship diving, drowning in the ocean. It’s a terrible disease, where a person develops this terrible attitude: “Because I give to you, you need it. But you now owe me. You owe me.”
But I shouldn’t feel that you owe me, because it’s kindness on my end. That’s what this means. Hashem told Moshe Rabbeinu, “Go appease them. Go see if they could find it in their heart to give money for My building.” “Oh, I gave them everything? So don’t they owe Me?” They owe Me, yes. But I, the Creator of the world, cannot speak to them as if they owe Me, because if I did, then what I did for them wouldn’t be kindness.
So what was given is over. You helped your children buy a house. You helped them—how many times does a guy help his son buy a house? His daughter, he gives them a house, he gives them something. And for the rest of his life, he feels, “You’re like my servant. The way you’re supposed to talk to me—all of a sudden, the tone isn’t good enough, the reciprocation isn’t good enough. Everything changes from your end, because how could you not do more for me, who gave you?” It’s a big trap of kindness. Hakarat HaTov is a one-way street. It’s not a two-way street. Yes, they owe you the world, but from your end, you can demand nothing.
Not only can you not demand it in words; you should feel that you’re owed nothing. That’s just in your wording. You should walk away thinking, “I am owed nothing by this student I just spent two years working with, day after day. He owes me nothing. From my end, I had the biggest zechut (merit): I did kindness for him. If not for him, I couldn’t do kindness. From my end, I’m lucky I was able to help him. I’m lucky I was able to buy a house for my daughter. I’m lucky I was able to give my children all the money I could give them. I’m lucky, because if not for them, I couldn’t do kindness.”
So I am fortunate. You owe me. From my end, you owe me nothing. Again, from your end, you have your own book you have to look into. From my end, you owe me nothing. Kindness has to be one way. No strings attached.
Could you imagine what a marriage looks like with such a mindset? You know, I don’t want to say all that, because it would sound too much like I’m an expert. I would say a very, very large portion—not 51%; I’m talking in the 90s—of all marriage issues, whether they end in divorce or are just issues that put a strain on the marriage, are usually because people feel unappreciated. You don’t even have to sit with them. You could just guess on your own that this is how they feel.
The husband says, “I work so hard. I do this. I do that. You don’t know what I do, Rabbi. You don’t know what I do. You don’t know how much I give. You don’t know. I can’t even tell you. If I sat here and told you, it wouldn’t be enough. Where’s the appreciation? I don’t see the appreciation. She’s not around. She’s not doing this. She’s not doing that.” Two minutes later, you sit with her. It’s the same recording from a different angle. “Rabbi, you don’t know what I do. He doesn’t know what I do. He doesn’t know what I do. He doesn’t know what I do. I’m up at night. I wake up early. I’ve got to take care of things. I’m tired. I’m this. I’m serving. Where is the appreciation? He doesn’t call. He doesn’t—can’t believe it.”
It’s like a fiction movie. It makes sense. He feels, “If she put...” How could that be? So obviously the solution to such a problem is to tell them, “Listen, I’m going to buy you both a book on Hakarat HaTov. It seems that you don’t appreciate your wife and she doesn’t appreciate you. Very simple solution. I’m going to buy you a book on Hakarat HaTov. You’re going to read it, and she’s going to read it. B’ezrat Hashem (with Hashem’s help), if you focus on Hakarat HaTov, you will fix your problem. It’s going to be a few months, and you guys will be appreciating each other in no time, and it’s going to be a beautiful marriage.”
But the reality is, that’s not the problem. It’s not possible that a husband and wife don’t appreciate each other. You should know, it’s not possible. Unless you’re really, totally, totally in a different world of evil, I would say that every husband—I bet that this woman talking to me, there’s nobody in the world that appreciates someone or another. I’m pretty sure. Who appreciates someone? The neighbor? Her son? Her daughter? Her sister? No. I have no doubt that this man does more for her than anybody on the planet. And the same for him. I don’t doubt that she does more for him than anybody on this planet.
So how can it be that the person who does the most for you leaves you feeling unappreciated? How can that be? She cooks for you. She cleans for you. Clothes. She takes care of everything that you... No one does that for you. So how can you feel unappreciated? That’s ridiculous. But that’s not the answer. Giving them a book on Hakarat HaTov is not really the answer. It’s not a bad idea, but it’s not the real answer.
Their problem isn’t so much that they don’t appreciate each other. Their problem is that they expect too much from each other. He’s looking at himself and saying, “I know she does... Of course she does. She does. She does. She does. She does. She does. Of course she does more than anyone else. But compared to what I do, it doesn’t come close. The appreciation she owes me doesn’t come close. It’s a big deal she made this? A big deal she does that? You know how much she owes me compared to what I do? There’s nobody in the world I do more for than her.”
So in my mind, the bill is inflated, especially in my head. I take it to a new level. A guy owes you a billion dollars, and he sends you a check for $10,000. He says, “What?” I’ll tell you. “I paid.” “He paid? What thing? It’s called payment.” “You didn’t do anything for me. You owe me 10... You owe me so much money.” When a person feels that someone owes him so much, there’s not enough that they can give back to make him feel paid off.
The mistake is in every husband and wife. Our lives would change completely if we fixed this. It’s a big undertaking because it’s not the way we normally... We live a life that’s off balance. We give and give and give and give, and we put it in the bills department. So we have a ship that’s full of bills: “My wife owes me. My mother at one point also owes me. My father also owes me. I pick him up every morning. I take care of his bills. I take him here. My employees owe me. My students owe me. My neighbors owe me. My grandchildren owe me.”
At some point, your ship has so many bills on it that you feel so unappreciated by people. You can’t deal with it anymore, and your ship starts to sink because all the bills are unpaid, at least in your mind. They’re not paid. The people I helped in the yeshiva, the people I gave money to—everything good in your life is going to sink your ship because it all became bills. Then the Torah says, “No, sir. You owe them, if anything, because without them you couldn’t fulfill your mission of kindness in this world.”
You’re lucky you have a child and you’re able to sacrifice for them. You’re lucky you can pay their bills. You’re lucky if you can buy them a house. First of all, God gave you the money. That’s number one. Number two, without them, who could you give your money to? What would you do with your money if not to give them kindness? It’s a whole different way of life.
Imagine a home where each person felt that they owed the other for allowing them to give. Then every meal would be like, “Wow, I can’t believe you’re doing this for me. I can’t believe it. You made me potatoes tonight? I can’t believe it.” The first guy comes home: “You only made potatoes? That’s all I’m worth? Potatoes? With some tomatoes on the side?” He gets up and says, “No appreciation in this house. After all that I do, potatoes?”
The second guy says, “Wow, you gave me potatoes? Unbelievable. Let me tell you something: if your neighbor came one day with a meal for dinner, with some potatoes, you’d say, ‘Wow, guy, you bought me potatoes? And you cooked them, marinated them, served them on a plate for me, and brought them hot? What a neighbor. Who does that? I can’t believe my neighbor. Guy randomly comes on Monday and gives me potatoes. Do you believe it?’”
Because you don’t expect anything, it’s a bonus, it’s beautiful. But in your home, with the people you’re expecting from, it’s not enough. Everything would change in every relationship when a person has the right balance of understanding. When you give, you’re the lucky one. They owe you—that’s their book, that’s their ship. If your ship is full of bills that you owe others, you have a very balanced ship. If your ship is full of bills that people owe you, then your ship is definitely in a very big storm and could sink at some point.
Be careful, as you get bigger in life, do more in life, and help more people in life, not to treat acts of kindness as bills people owe you. No accounts receivable on kindness. If you do have accounts receivable, your ship is going to tilt in a very dangerous way. Be a balanced person. Know when you owe, know when something is kindness, and know when people are doing extra for you. In your mind, they don’t owe you. Feel it that way. Your life becomes this unbelievably kind place where everybody around you is just doing good for you. You can’t believe how they’re doing good for you.
You can’t believe your son came over just to get a Beracha before Shabbat. “Wow, can’t believe it. Came over to get a Beracha. What a kid.” The next guy next door—that’s all he does. He comes to get a Beracha, nothing in his hand, no gift, nothing. Everything could be viewed through its opposite lens when the ship is not balanced.
Abraham Avinu was a balanced man. The Akedah—he gave to Hashem. “No way. What did I give to Hashem? Hashem, thank You, You gave me such a zechut of the Akedah. Yes, I made a good decision. I’m proud of that. But everything else—what a gift, that I was able to serve Hashem and give Hashem such a beautiful situation. Thank You.” Katonti, I feel like a small person. “I’m able to teach students. What a beautiful thing. Hashem, what do I do? How do I pay You back for this? I’m able to support a yeshiva. I’m able to build buildings. I’m able to help people. Hashem, what do I do? How do I thank You for this? I don’t know what to do. I do what I want, so I make this happen.” God bless you. “You blessed me too, Hashem.”
I hope that when you do something good, you will produce similar things and receive His blessings, so that His blessings will increase. And if you do something good, there’s something good in it too. The essential thing is knowing what to put on the boat and in which department; then all of a sudden the boat is beautifully in the water, on its journey, smooth sailing to its destination.
A balanced person is a great person. A balanced person is a happy person. A balanced person is an accomplished person. So many of life’s issues happen because our ship isn’t balanced. Our thinking is off. When we balance our thinking, all of a sudden things all work out beautifully.