I have the habit of running myself ragged, sometimes beyond my body’s limits, and simply ending up with an empty tank. It’s strange that I never let my car gas tank go below a quarter tank, for fear that I might get stranded somewhere, but that seems to not apply to my own well-being. I have to schedule time into my calendar to refill my soul with a nourishing walk outside, or remind myself to put away my phone for some uninterrupted time with my kids. Shabbat can come in handy for these moments if I’m not working the whole day, but when I get to the empty mark, that’s it for me. I can’t see past my exhaustion and often don’t have the capacity to bring my spirit, comfort, or even presence to our community.
I realize it’s not just me facing this issue. We live in a world that celebrates busyness and pushing ourselves to the limit in terms of scheduling, activities, and commitments. In doing this, we often get to a point of being unable to see past the current moment, and the same happens in our Torah portion this week, Toldot.
This week, in Parshat Toldot, Isaac and Rebekah become parents. The pregnancy is not easy, and the twins are anything but calm. Jacob and Esau are very different, and each is feisty in his own way. Esau sells his birthright to Jacob for lentil stew, and Jacob tricks his father into getting the blessing his brother deserves. Esau finds out, and his outrage over the incident causes Jacob to flee for his life. The portion ends with Esau growing up and rebelling against the family in his choice of life partner.
Perhaps the most famous part of this Torah portion is the bargaining of Jacob with Esau for the birthright. The narrative tells us that Jacob, the favored child, the one their mother doted on, is cooking a delicious stew. Esau, who is described from birth as wild and clearly not favored by Rebekah, comes back from hunting. Esau is “famished” and accepts the bargain to give away his birthright, his prized position simply to satisfy an immediate need.
Joseph Soloveitchik, a brilliant mind among the 20th century Torah commentators, understands Esau’s hunger not to be solely physical, but rather a spiritual weariness and exhaustion. Perhaps Esau is weary because he doesn’t have faith to give meaning to his life, or perhaps he sees no point in living since death comes for us all, or perhaps he is so over it and exhausted that he can’t see past his own needs to his obligations to his family and community. Whatever combination of reasons, Esau acts out of this confluence of moments for his present need instead of what might have served him better in the future.
Parshat Toldot is a reminder to be aware of our hunger, both physical and spiritual, so that we don’t get to the point of famished. That might mean literally eating little snacks during the day to stay satiated but not stuffed, or metaphorically filling your soul with small breaks each day in nature or with your family. Whatever exhausts us does not have to control us. As long as we have a clear set of both values and boundaries, we’re able to act not from an empty, hollow place, but from a place of loving ourselves enough to know what we need.