Yosef the Closer, the Continuer and the Need to Internalize Impermanence
Just when you think that the story is over, there always seems to be more.
As we read the epic tale of Joseph, Yosef HaTzadik, each chapter in his life seems that it could be the end of the story, but it is not.
He is put in a pit, left to die–not the end.
He is sold as a slave-not the end.
He rises to the top level in his job-not the end.
He is sent to jail to languish-not the end.
He has a ruptured relationship with his brothers-not the end.
Yosef is the paradigm of resilience in the book of Breishit and in looking more at this fascinating character, his life reflects the dual nature of his name.
In Vayetze, we are told that Rachel is finally given the gift of children and she gives her child the name Yosef.
The first allusion to his name is the hope for an end. Yosef contains the root of the word for the end, the sof, as it is the end of this terrible chapter of childlessness for Rachel. (Gen 30:23-24)
וַתַּ֖הַר וַתֵּ֣לֶד בֵּ֑ן וַתֹּ֕אמֶר אָסַ֥ף אֱלֹקְים אֶת־חֶרְפָּתִֽי׃ וַתִּקְרָ֧א אֶת־שְׁמ֛וֹ יוֹסֵ֖ף
She conceived and bore a son, and said, “God has taken away my disgrace.” So she named him Joseph.
At the same time, naming her son Joseph is not only about ending a chapter in her life, it is also about adding and continuing. It demonstrates her hope that that her good fortune will continue and she will have another son.
לֵאמֹ֑ר יֹסֵ֧ף ה' לִ֖י בֵּ֥ן אַחֵֽר׃
which is to say, “May ה' add another son for me.”
Rashbam points out that Yosef is therefore named for both of these ideas:
הרי שם זה משמש שני אמירות: אסף ויוסף.
His very name contains the seemingly contradictory message of both finality and continuity. (The idea that sof is can be seen as both a continuing and an ending is also reflected in the Rashi on וְלֹ֥א יָסָֽפוּ on the prophesying of Eldad and Meidad in Bamidbar 11:25.)
Throughout the last month of reading the Yosef parshiyot, I have constantly “coincidentally” run into books or poems that have reflected the reality that the idea of an end to anything in our lives is not so simple.
David Whyte, the Anglo-Irish poet and philosopher, in his Consolations II dedicates a full essay to the concept of “end.” While certainly there are some things that are fully final, most things are not. He writes, “End only means that we have reached the limit of our ability to track what is actually occurring. End is never an ending in itself…There is no right true end in any of the endings we imagine we desire.” For Whyte, human beings have a natural need for clear endings, as we like to frame things and put them in particular categories. Yet, there is really no such thing as a truly permanent end, just a pause.
This idea of life being a state of constant motion is echoed in the concept of impermanence articulated in Buddhist nun Pema Chodron’s When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times. She writes, “Impermanence is the goodness of reality. Just as the four seasons are in continual flux... everything is constantly evolving. Impermanence is the essence of everything. It is babies becoming children, then teenagers, then adults, then old people and somewhere along the way dropping dead. Impermanence is meeting and parting.…” (p..59)
In looking at the life of Yosef, whether it was through his ambition to reach the top in the house of Potiphar or in jail, always being attentive to dreams, or even his ability to realize that success is planning for the famine that will come after plenty, he constantly kept his eyes on the opportunity to impact what comes next. Yosef’s character truly reflected his name, kishmo ken hu. It is this unique name that contains the sound of sof,end, but really embodies hoseef, of constantly adding chapters, realizing that end is just a way of naming the limit of our ability to track what is actually fully occurring.
Whether we look at the story of Yosef or our own stories, the constant evolution of life is something that we have to keep in mind always. While cognitively we know that things change, it is hard to truly emotionally internalize impermanence and use it as a lens, yet this skill is critical.
When we show ourselves, our students, our children and our loved ones that we know that every stage is truly temporary, that most every disappointment will pass and that every triumph is fleeting, we incorporate this concept of impermanence and a trust in the ongoing, dynamic experience of human existence. “Impermanence is a principle of harmony. When we don't struggle against it, we are in harmony with reality.” (Chodron) When we are in harmony with this impermanence it allows us to both live in the moment, and, at the same time, prepare and plan, with humility and generosity, with our hearts and our heads, as Yosef did.
Life, the world and all of our relationships, as Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks said, are “a never-ending stream.” Very few things and chapters of our lives are a full-stop end, a sof, but they are rather an impermanent, yoseef.
As we head into the heart of winter, the time where darkness seems to reign, let’s keep in mind that the bare dead trees of the winters of our lives will give way to blossoming springs. Springs will sprout into vibrant summers, and summers will decay into surrendering autumns. The only permanence in our world is in fact its impermanence. We must embrace that reality and do what we can to impact the inevitable changes that will come to our homes, our classrooms, our communities and our worlds.
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