Chapter A:
1.
A person’s greatest obstacle is not the mountain in front of him, nor the challenges of society, nor the pressures of the world. The real barrier is the self — fear, ego, comfort, hesitation, and the inner negotiation that cripples action. This resistance determines whether a life rises or collapses.
2.
Judaism calls this inner engine ratzon — will. Not whim or mood, but the deep direction of the soul. When ratzon is firm and clean, nothing can block it. When ratzon is tangled with fear or self-interest, even small responsibilities become heavy.
3.
Ratzon Hashem is only human language, because the Creator has no need, no change, and no desire in the human sense. He willed the world into existence to give mankind the chance to act as a giver — the one form of Divine imitation that a limited being can achieve. A Creator with no needs designed a world filled with needs so that people could elevate each other.
4.
This defines the mission of every human being, and even more sharply the responsibility of the Jew: to show the world how a person rises above self-centered instinct and becomes a source of good. Torah life is built on this outward focus, aligning the human being with the purpose of creation.
5.
The path to success often feels like climbing a mountain, but anyone who pauses and reflects will see the truth: every step came from Hashem. Many others tried the same route with the same effort and failed. There is no superiority here — only being chosen. Yet the fear of losing what was given becomes a heavy obstacle. It turns a person inward, makes him protective, egotistical, and suspicious. Many wealthy individuals end up living in self-constructed towers, spending endlessly on themselves, surrounded by people who want proximity to money, not friendship. This breeds loneliness and makes generosity feel dangerous. The only way to break this trap is to strip away the illusion of ownership — to treat oneself as if nothing truly belongs to him — and to give, give, give until the ego releases its grip.
6.
Marriage reveals this truth in daily life. It forces a person to stop operating as the center of his own world. Giving, compromising, and sharing become non-negotiable. This transforms character and breaks selfish instinct. A single person may be kind, but he often chooses when to give and when to retreat. Marriage removes that escape.
7.
Many people carry emotional habits rooted in childhood. Parents from the post-war Eastern European generation — often themselves children of survivors — lived through hardship and had no modern language for emotion or conversation. They were sharp, tough, and one-directional in discipline. That upbringing left many adults today searching for a “blanket” or emotional pacifier to cover the wounds of a difficult home. Yet that same hardness often pushed their children toward resilience and success. Too-soft parenting can produce weak, unformed adults; too-hard parenting can leave emotional scars. The truth lies in balance — a blend of firmness and warmth. Earlier generations leaned heavily toward hardness, but that was the world Hashem shaped at that time and the method He used to build stronger character. Today the task is to keep the strength they gave while repairing the emotional gaps they could not fill.
8.
A developed human being is someone who rises above instinct, gives without self-worship, shares without calculation, and places others’ needs alongside his own. Success in any form rests on this ability. Stumbling over the self is the beginning of failure; stepping beyond the self is the beginning of life.
9.
The design of the world itself teaches the path forward: stop stumbling over your own self, and the way ahead becomes clear.
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