How does one avoid being paralyzed in the face of a threatening situation?
The answer is simple to state: see it as a challenge rather than a threat. But how does one actually achieve that shift—one that empowers and motivates rather than crushing and discouraging?
Two things are required: 1) to see the benefit one will gain by overcoming the adversity; and 2) to prepare adequately so that one can actually do so.
In this week's Torah portion, Vayetze, we follow Jacob as he leaves his parents' home in Beer Sheva for the house of his maternal grandfather, Bethuel in Haran. Two things compelled the journey: his brother Esau's desire to kill him for receiving their father Isaac's blessings, and the need to find a wife, since his parents disapproved of the local women.
Put yourself in Jacob's place. Life in Beer Sheva had been tranquil: he lived at home, unmarried, with no great concerns, free to devote all his time to study and personal growth. Overnight, he was forced to flee that sheltered life and set out toward a destination full of adversity. Our sages note that the very name of his destination, Haran, shares a root with the word for "wrath," since the conduct of its inhabitants provoked G‑d's anger. And his uncle Laban, who lived there, was notorious for his dishonesty. Can one imagine a sharper contrast than between the peace of Beer Sheva and the hostility awaiting him in Haran?
His state of mind at that moment must have been one of anxiety and vulnerability.
The Torah describes how Jacob stopped to pray and how he protected himself from wild animals when lying down to sleep on the road.1
But the situation soon changed. In a dream, Jacob saw a ladder, its base set on the earth and its top reaching the heavens. Angels were ascending and descending upon it. G‑d spoke to him, promising protection, renewing the promise to give his descendants the land on which he lay, and blessing him regarding the quality and number of his offspring.
Upon waking, Jacob made a vow: if G‑d would accompany him, provide him with food and clothing, and allow him to return home in the same spiritual and moral condition in which he had left, he would build an altar in G‑d's honor and dedicate a tenth of all he earned.
Immediately after, the Torah tells us that “Now Jacob lifted his feet and went to the land of the people of the East.”2
Rashi notes that this phrase, "lifted his feet," reflects the promise of Divine protection Jacob had just received. Jacob didn't believe the road ahead would be easy. He simply trusted that he would come through it, and that trust was enough to transform the weight of the journey into something he could carry lightly.
But trust alone was not sufficient. He had to prepare. The three conditions Jacob set — food, clothing, and spiritual integrity—each has a deeper dimension. The Torah is compared to food because, like food, it nourishes and, once metabolized, becomes part of us. The commandments are compared to clothing because, like garments, they create a protective layer. And the goal of all one's engagement with the material world must be to transform it into a dwelling place for G‑d—returning, as it were, to "the father's house."
The tool for this week, as Nietzsche put it so well: He who has a ‘why’ to live can bear almost any ‘how’.