In the previous column, we asked: If pain becomes suffering when it lacks meaning, what do we do with the fact that we don’t want pain at all? Even if we believe that everything Hashem does is for our ultimate good, how does bitachon quiet rational—even justified—worry? The answer lies in understanding the deeper relationship between pain, pleasure, and meaning.
The Meaning of Pain
Lifting weights is difficult and often painful—but that pain has purpose, which not only short-circuits suffering but also becomes the path to pleasure. It gives meaning to the discomfort, transforming it into something rewarding—even enjoyable.
This is easy to grasp in the context of physical training. But what happens when pain stems from real-life challenges—or even tragedy?
Imagine a person losing a limb in an accident—a devastating, life-altering event. The emotions that follow—grief, sadness, even anger—are natural. Now consider that same loss occurring in the act of saving a life—or many—through an extraordinary act of heroism. Everywhere he goes, people honor him, praising his bravery and turning him into a living legend. Does he still endure the daily struggles of his physical loss? Undoubtedly. But when he looks at his missing limb, is it merely a reminder of what was lost? Or has it become something greater—evoking something beyond pain? Could it now stir pride, gratitude, or even joy for what it represents?
(Wait… pride? Isn’t that just a function of the ego? Just as we have a body, we also have an ego—so for all but those on the highest spiritual level, public perception will affect us to some degree. In any of these situations, knowing that others are aware can help mitigate ego-based feelings. Still, whether people know or don’t, the fact that we know the why—that’s what reframes the experience and opens the door to real pleasure.)
This psychological shift plays out across many life situations. Consider three people living in near-poverty. The first lost his fortune in a financial scheme and may feel ashamed for being deceived. The second struggles to find steady work and might see himself as incompetent or unskilled. The third gave away his wealth to fund a life-saving operation for a sick child. Their financial circumstances are identical—but their stories are not. The meaning behind each situation shapes how they experience it, and directly impacts their emotional well-being and overall life satisfaction.
For a final scenario, imagine a couple welcoming a child with special needs. Their initial emotions—grief, sadness, even anger—may mirror the struggles we discussed earlier. As they push a stroller down the street, they might grapple with feelings of embarrassment, shame, or envy toward parents of typical children. We might say there’s no reason for these emotions, but we can still understand why they arise.
Now contrast that with a couple who chooses to adopt a child with special needs. As they push the stroller, the experience may be entirely different—no grief, no resentment, only gratitude and joy.
In each of the previous situations, the challenges may be the same—but the experiences are not. These scenarios remind us that painful circumstances themselves do not cause unhappiness.
The Crucial Key
Of course, the key difference in all these scenarios is whether the experience was chosen—or imposed. When we make a conscious, intentional choice, our why becomes clear, naturally infused with meaning. As a result, suffering is reduced—or even absent—and the path to pleasure is paved. This much is certain.
These scenarios, however, expose a deeper pattern—one we’ve been tracing all along—that reframes our entire relationship with bitachon. The choices we make when we do have control shape how we experience the moments when we don’t—especially in times of adversity and uncertainty. Put simply: the only way to find meaning in the challenges we didn’t choose is to take full responsibility for the ones we do.
There’s no need to worry about tomorrow—if we take responsibility today. When we act responsibly and confront legitimate challenges, we shape the lens through which future struggles will be experienced.
Our choices shape our perspective.
Our perspective sets the context.
And that context determines the meaning we assign to any experience.
The mental framework we build—right here, in this moment—determines how we interpret what we face or anticipate: whether we respond with fear and anxiety, or with calm and confidence; whether we live with bitachon, or without it.
There’s a lot more to explore here. Next week, we’ll look at one of the most fascinating aspects of bitachon—and discover how perspective shapes both the quality and intensity of our experiences: what matters, and how much it matters.
(To be continued)
