A Clash of Wills
We all know that human beings have been endowed with free will. But did you ever stop and think about the fact that having a free will presupposes that a person has a will at all?
Having stopped to dwell on that fact, let’s delve a bit deeper and ask ourselves what our will is based on. What is the unique perspective of each individual that makes him want this rather than that? It seems to me that getting down to basics in this way can give us a pretty clear picture of who the person is. What we want helps to define who we are.
We all have desires. In fact, wanting things is an integral part of being human. I am, therefore I want… But we don’t all have the same drive to get what we want. Some of us are the Type A kind of person who pushes with single-minded purpose until he reaches the goal. Others, more laid back, prefer not to work too hard. For this second type, we might say that relaxing is what he desires most of all. By not wanting things too much or too hard, he, too, is expressing his will.
Now here’s a question that affects all of us at one time or another. What happens when your will contradicts my will?
Let’s boil the question down to its lowest common denominator: preschool psychology. Suppose the teacher gives out crayons to all the children. One child gets a blue crayon, another is given a pink, a third receives a green one, and so on down the line.
When asked which color is the best, the little boy clutching his blue crayon in one pudgy fist shouts out, “Blue!” Likewise, the little girl staunchly advocating for her pink crayon. Because it’s mine, it is by definition the best. Or so goes the thinking in a three-year-old’s mind.
Unfortunately, preschool kids sometimes grow up without growing out of that mindset. Whatever they have, wherever they live, whoever they are, must by definition be superior. Because it’s mine, it’s the best. Even more, anything that’s connected with me is entitled to be the best!
Two countries both want the same parcel of land. When their patriotic feelings remain on the nursery level, they will each feel entitled to that land. This sense of entitlement stems from the childish, ego-driven notion that whatever I have is the best. I live here; ergo, my country is the best. And the best deserves… whatever it wants. When one or both countries feel that way, the all-too-frequent outcome is war.
Clearly, what’s missing from the equation is an objective standard. A way of fairly adjudicating the merits of yours and mine. When the desires of unchecked egos clash, the inevitable outcome is conflict. Only by introducing an impartial yardstick can the claims of both parties be justly weighed.
In preschool, that yardstick is represented by the teacher and, above her, the principal. In the judicial world, it’s represented by the judge seated on his dais.
In the larger geopolitical world, it ought to be represented by an impartial United Nations forum. But enough said on that subject…
Kindergarten Thinking
Trimming our discussion down from global conflict to our own narrower lives, we see the same dynamic in play. Mrs. X is determined to have a certain bungalow or summer home, but so is Mrs. Y. Their disputing claims can turn ugly unless an outside, completely objective party intervenes to settle the case.
Contrary to what they may secretly feel, neither of them is inherently in the right simply because they want something very badly. That’s kindergarten thinking.
Because we are emotional creatures, it can be hard to divest ourselves of our extreme subjectiveness. By the yardstick of our emotions, everything that has to do with us, our families and our interests, seems as though by some law of nature to have a superior claim. If we’re smart, we’ll realize this and turn to a more objective party for advice or adjudication.
When we do that, we’ll come to the mature, if belated, realization that the blue crayon is not necessarily the best just because it’s the one I happen to be clutching it in my hand.
Too Much Me-ness?
The problem, then, is that the “me”-ness of whatever I am or have makes it feel intrinsically superior to that of those around me. And the “me”-ness of whatever it is that I want makes my right to it seem a foregone conclusion.
The real problem is that there’s altogether too much “me”-ness around.
Hashem could have created us as obedient little robots, but He didn’t. He created us with egos. He chose to endow us with a will, and He left that will free and unencumbered. We can want whatever we choose to want. The question is, what will that be?
With everyone’s vision being so limited by the ego’s natural assumption of superiority and entitlement, it makes sense to seek out the people with the least ego limitations that we can find. To seek them out and to learn from them. That is the path to wisdom.
Taking it a last step further, our wisest move of all is to imitate the ways and obey the instructions of the only One who is truly impartial. Three times a day, in Aleinu, we beseech Hashem to hasten the time when all the world will bend their knee to His Name. On that glorious day, our myriad individual wills will unite to serve the One Will, which fashioned us limited human beings as well as the stupendously beautiful and variegated universe we inhabit.
People tend to keep themselves very busy championing their right to pursue the things they ardently desire. And that’s natural. After all, we’re only human. We are, therefore we want. But sometimes we can let ourselves get bogged down by all the small things we want, and lose sight of the bigger picture.
On that longed-for tomorrow, we’ll know exactly what we should and do want, down where our deepest truth lives. The clashing wills that so often divide us now will fall away.
And all of humanity’s hearts and minds and egos will find it astonishingly easy to transcend themselves, in service of the One Mind that dreamt us all up and that keeps us all going.
