Holy hair cut

It was not quite time for a haircut, though some hair was fast approaching the top of my ears, but the opportunity for an all American haircut was too much to pass.  In Israel, a friend or the local barber cuts my hair in a simplistic, yet effective way.  But, I decided to pamper myself with a more sophisticated haircut.  Several blocks from my parent’s apartment sat a Supercuts with over twenty stalls.  Despite the inconspicuous hour, right smack in the middle of the work day, I had a fifteen minute wait before my grooming.  Finally, my turn arrived and a plain looking fifty year old with a perfectly plain expression on his face, neither particularly happy nor particularly sad, and plain brown hair took the reins. 

                In the mood for a shmueze, I asked how long he’d been a hair dresser.  It turned out I was in very experienced hands, since 1986, and he had studied several years at beauty school (found out they even need to study anatomy there).  To my surprise, despite his education and experience, Supercuts required an extra education when he joined them many years later. Granted, Supercuts looked like a successful establishment, but I didn’t understand why such experience and knowledge of the human hair would be wasted at the equivalent of a fast food hair-cutting chain.   Wasn’t it time to move to the ritzy world of the beauty salon? 

When I asked him, the answer he gave surprised me. Indeed, he had dabbled in that world for a period of time, but he said she could not sleep at night knowing the truth.  He explained that there are five basic types of haircuts possible- that’s it! It is not rocket science, and to think that these salons should charge seventy five dollars for exactly the same thing he could provide at Supercuts for twenty dollars was not something he could tolerate morally.  Who knew such people still existed, especially given the following?

   It turns out, those mitzvahs we often do begrudgingly, if at all, are meant to come from a passionate place.  Why?  The root of the word Mitzvah, is צו, or inspired act.  We are introduced to this definition in this week’s Torah portion where the Priests are ‘commanded’ or ‘ וצו’ to bring the burnt offering.  On the spot, Rashi inquires as to the reason why the language of צו is used here as opposed to the myriad of other places were commands are given without this explicit language.  Rashi answers that the Priest loses money on this offering because he does not get a portion of meat; therefore, he needs to be reminded to act with inspiration, since inspiration to do the mitzvah will not come as naturally. 

Even the holy Priests needed to be reminded that it is not all about the money, but that doing the right thing itself is inspirational.  How refreshing it is to see that lived in the unlikeliest of places, Supercuts. 

                

Pregnancy and Purim

People associate pregnancy with an enhanced sense of smell, swollen feet, and an achy back more than with a month of the year.  But sure enough, while Gregorian years leap, Hebrew years become pregnant, and not just with an extra day, but an entire month. The real question is why this month, Adar, is the month picked to carry with it the potential for a birth of a second Adar (this year happens not to be a ‘pregnant’ one)?  Further, is it a coincidence that the month with the potential for pregnancy is also a time of enhanced joy and that the name of the month means ‘strength’? 

                If we look at Purim, the holiday that characterizes Adar, to put it mildly, it is strange.  You take a group of rabid intellectuals and tell them to turn it off for a day; turn off the mind and turn on the heart.  It is a time of giving each other gifts, eating and merriment.  How can we make sense of it?

  To begin, our intellects have a foreign feel to them.  In other words, our intellects play a decidedly small role in how we make our decisions.  We make decisions based on our feelings and we consult with our intellects to help shape our feelings in the right direction.  However, at the end the of the day thoughts are outside of ‘us’ and they can manipulate ‘us’ towards countless rationalizations to the point that we are no longer ‘us’. 

Strength is the ability to find an inner voice that transcends external influences, even our intellects.  It is the ability to do things because they are right even if we don’t understand the full ramifications of the decision.   It is no surprise that the month of strength is the month of joy, because joy comes from a feeling that I am not dependent on external forces for my mood- it is feeling that I am in control in spite of external circumstances.  So how does it tie in with pregnancy and Purim?

Purim is the time when a series of unlikely events transpired that didn’t make sense.  A former barber, Haman, suddenly becomes a man of power, means, and a thirst to destroy the Jewish nation.  A modest Jewish woman becomes a queen and a wise sage is put into a position to save the king.  Had any political pundits been around back then, this certainly would not have been the prediction for how the Persian Empire’s power structure would be set up, and that is precisely the point.  Even at times when things don’t fit into the neat molds our mind creates, we find a deeper voice that is unwavering and tells us to hang on.  The potential to create a mindset from within ourselves despite external factors is represented by pregnancy.  Obviously, pregnancy starts with two, but at the end of the day, pregnancy is the ability to create life from within. And that is the idea that resonates strength, creates joy, and saved the Jews on Purim- the ability to stay true to an inner voice that knows what is right even when our intellect may say otherwise.