Small tidbits and Sparks of wisdom

The Gate of Self-Accounting: Chapter 3
…one destined to receive it, whether in his lifetime—as it says: “At a young age it will leave him” (Yirmeyahu 17:11)—or after his death, as it is written: “They leave their wealth to others” (Tehillim 49:11).
The Wise One [King Solomon] warned us against excessive drive and effort to gain wealth, as it is written: “Do not toil to get wealth; of your own understanding, desist” (Mishlei 23:4); and described the ill inherent in it: “Before you can set your eyes on it, it is gone” (ibid. 23:5). The other Wise One [King David] guided and encouraged us to work only for one’s basic sustenance, what is sufficient for one’s needs, saying: “You will eat the fruit of the labor of your hands; you will be happy and it will be well with you” (Tehillim 128:2).
The pious man also asked God to grant him an adequate livelihood but to withhold from him wealth, which leads to luxuries, and poverty, which leads to the corruption of morality and religion. As he said, “Two things I ask of You… Give me neither poverty nor riches, but provide me with my daily bread; lest I be full and deny [You] and say, ‘Who is God?’ or lest I be poor and steal…” (Mishlei 30:7–9). Similarly, we find that our patriarch Ya‘akov, peace be upon him, asked God to provide only his needs: “If God will… give me bread to eat and clothing to wear” (Bereshis 28:20).
Will you not awaken, my brother, and see the drawback in what you have worked for and hastened to, [namely] maintaining the natural welfare of your body, which will be associated with you for only a short while and which, for as long as you are joined to it, is never free of pain or immune to accident. If it is too full, it becomes ill; if it is hungry, it becomes weak. If you overdress it, it is irritated; if you leave it naked, it suffers. Moreover, management of the body—when it is healthy or sick, when it lives or dies—is not in accordance with your will or in your power, but is under the control of your Creator, May He be exalted.

Wasting Energy “Fishing” for Wealth
A man can exhaust his life chasing money and still end with nothing, while another receives wealth with little visible effort. That alone should force an honest person to question the fantasy that wealth is proportional to hustle. The tradition never taught that parnassah is a hunt. It taught that it is assigned.
Fishing is the right metaphor because fishing depends less on effort than on conditions you do not control: the tide, the fish, the weather, the net. You can thrash the water all day and catch nothing, or drop a line once and pull out abundance. The one who thinks effort itself produces wealth confuses motion with causation.
The Torah view is blunt: excessive striving for wealth is not diligence; it is anxiety dressed up as responsibility. Shlomo HaMelech does not say “don’t be lazy.” He says, “Do not toil to get wealth; desist from your own understanding.” That is not poetic—it is a warning. When a man over-invests his strength, mind, and time into money, he is not securing his future; he is signaling distrust in Providence.
What is meant for a person’s good arrives with measured effort, not obsession. The effort is a vessel, not the source. Once the vessel is sufficient, more strain does not bring blessing—it leaks it. The Gemara already tells you this: extra effort beyond what is fitting often subtracts rather than adds.
There is also a moral cost. Wealth chased aggressively reshapes the soul. It narrows vision, hardens judgment, and quietly replaces service of God with service of outcomes. That is why the wise pray neither for riches nor poverty. Riches intoxicate. Poverty degrades. Both distort clarity. Only sufficiency preserves balance.
A man who understands this works honestly, steadily, and within bounds. He does not panic when others appear to surge ahead. He does not gamble his life force on “what could be.” He accepts that if something is truly destined for him—and truly good—it will reach him without destroying him along the way.
In short:
Fishing harder does not summon fish.
It only tires the fisherman.

Another way to say :

On the Futility of Expending Excessive Energy in the Pursuit of Wealth
The impulse to expend one’s strength in relentless pursuit of wealth rests upon a fundamental error: the assumption that abundance is generated by exertion itself. Our tradition rejects this premise. Sustenance is not seized by force of will, nor extracted through relentless maneuvering; it is apportioned, and human effort serves only as the proper vessel through which that apportionment is realized.
The image of fishing is apt. Success in fishing depends far less on the vigor of the fisherman than on conditions entirely beyond his command—the movement of the waters, the presence of the fish, and the suitability of the moment. One may labor from dawn until dusk and return empty-handed, while another casts his line briefly and draws forth a full catch. The disparity lies not in exertion but in allotment.
Scripture therefore cautions against excessive striving. Shlomo HaMelech does not condemn labor; he condemns overinvestment of the soul in material acquisition. “Do not weary yourself to acquire wealth; desist from your own understanding.” The warning is precise: when a man relies upon his own calculations as the determining force of success, he displaces the true source of provision and inevitably invites frustration and disquiet.
That which is intended for a person’s genuine benefit arrives through effort that is proportionate and restrained. Once the necessary measure of endeavor has been supplied, additional strain does not increase blessing; it distorts it. Excessive preoccupation with gain consumes clarity of thought, corrodes contentment, and subtly reorients a person’s loyalties. What begins as responsible engagement with the world often concludes as servitude to outcomes beyond one’s control.
For this reason, the wise sought neither abundance nor deprivation, but sufficiency. Wealth tends toward indulgence and spiritual dullness; poverty toward desperation and moral erosion. Only a measured livelihood preserves equilibrium of character and steadiness of mind.
The individual who comprehends this works diligently yet without agitation. He neither begrudges the apparent ease of others nor sacrifices his inner order to speculative pursuits. He understands that what is destined for him—and truly beneficial—will reach him without requiring the exhaustion of his vitality or the compromise of his principles.
In sum, strenuous motion does not summon provision.
It merely exhausts the one who mistakes exertion for causation.

Shabbas 25: says. Who is called wealthy,4 answers

The Four Teachings on True Wealth
(as taught in the Baraisa)
1. R. Meir says:
“Who is truly wealthy?
Anyone who takes pleasure in his wealth.”
2. R. Tarfon says:
“A wealthy man is anyone who has a hundred vineyards,
and a hundred fields,
and a hundred servants who work in those fields.”
3. R. Akiva says:
“He is anyone who has a wife beautiful in deeds.”
4. R. Yose says:
“He is anyone who has a wife refined and fitting for a Torah scholar.”
Notes and Explanations (Relevant Extracts)
Note 26 (Rashi):
For those who aspire to wealth, the Gemara teaches its true nature.
Note 27:
That is, anyone who is happy with his portion in life, whether large or small (Rashi). Alternatively, a wealthy man is one who, by the grace of God, is able to enjoy his wealth (Maharsha).
Note 28:
The mnemonic MaT KaS refers to the four Tannaim cited:
M = R. Meir
T = R. Tarfon
K = R. Akiva
S = R. Yose
Note 29 (Maharsha):
People are motivated to accumulate wealth for three reasons:
(a) to attain honor as a wealthy person,
(b) to provide generously for one’s wife, and
(c) to maintain a financial reserve in case of illness.
The Tannaim teach that these goals are illusory, implying that the true definition of wealth is that of R. Meir.
Note 31 — R. Akiva (Key Point)
R. Akiva teaches that a man who accumulates wealth in order to provide his wife with luxuries cannot be considered rich, for he will never be satisfied. Rather, one married to a woman beautiful in deeds—whose material demands are slight, and who is content with her portion together with her husband—is truly wealthy.
Indeed, R. Akiva was referring to his own wife.
Clarifying the Hierarchy
R. Tarfon deliberately exaggerates to expose the emptiness of material accumulation.
R. Meir defines wealth psychologically: contentment.
R. Akiva deepens the concept: wealth is relational and moral, not quantitative.
R. Yose refines it further for the Torah scholar: inner harmony and refinement within the home.
R. Akiva’s teaching is the pivot point:
If one’s domestic life demands constant expansion, no amount of wealth will suffice. If one’s home is governed by virtue and restraint, even limited means are abundance.

Why Married People Who Pursue Wealth as an End Do Not Endure
R. Akiva’s teaching in Note 31 is not a moral flourish; it is a diagnosis. A married person who makes the pursuit of wealth central to his life places his household on an unstable foundation. Such a life cannot endure, because the structure itself is internally contradictory.
Marriage introduces permanent obligation. Wealth, by contrast, operates on comparison and escalation. When a man accumulates resources in order to satisfy expanding expectations—particularly domestic expectations—he guarantees perpetual insufficiency. No level of provision settles the matter, because the standard is no longer necessity or virtue, but comfort and display. R. Akiva therefore states unambiguously: such a man is not rich, and never will be.
The contrast he draws is precise. A wife “beautiful in deeds” is not merely morally admirable; she is existentially stabilizing. Her restraint defines the household’s horizon. Where material demands are limited, provision becomes achievable; where they are unbounded, provision becomes a moving target. In the latter case, the marriage itself becomes contingent on performance, and the home turns into a site of pressure rather than continuity.
This is why marriages oriented toward acquisition rather than sufficiency tend not to survive. The husband is driven outward, compelled to expand income without limit; the wife’s expectations—once detached from restraint—cannot be permanently met; and the relationship becomes transactional. Affection yields to accounting. Presence yields to pursuit.
R. Akiva is teaching something sharper than contentment: alignment. When husband and wife share a moral framework that values deeds over display, their material life stabilizes naturally. Wealth, if it arrives, does not dominate; if it does not, life remains whole. Where that alignment is absent, no level of income produces rest, and the marriage erodes under the weight of endless striving.
In short, a household built around wealth does not fail because it lacks money.
It fails because it lacks a stopping point.