I am a catastrophizer. That means I foresee catastrophe, real or imagined. I cannot watch my children run down a hill without picturing them falling and getting hurt. When there are reckless drivers on the road, I envision a car accident waiting to happen. Even in situations that aren’t life-threatening, I can let the worst-case scenario get the best of me, whether it’s a program that might flop or vacation plans that might fall through. It’s easy to want to give up and ask why do it if it’s just going to end up terribly anyway?
Rationally, I know my kids won’t injure themselves every time they play, and I know that sometimes things turn out just fine even if they don’t go as expected. But our brains seem to be very good at getting us worked up anyway, and believe it or not, the Torah knew this would happen and warns against it.
Our Torah portion this week, Parshat Ki Tavo, brings us closer to the final lessons God wants the Israelite nation to learn before they enter into the promised land. Our text reminds us again of the blessings and curses that come to us as we choose to follow or ignore the laws of the Torah. Specifically, we learn of the requirement to make an offering of “first fruits” for the priests in the Beit HaMikdash, and the different ways in which we are supposed to thank God and give praise (before prayer was a daily activity). Finally, the text reminds us of how we’re supposed to take time to rebuke one another when we’ve made a misstep and the ways in which we can do so with compassion and kindness.
In the midst of the section of warnings against stepping out of line with God’s commands, we read this verse in chapter 28, verse 67: “In the morning you shall say, ‘If only it were evening!’ and in the evening you shall say, ‘If only it were morning!’ – because of what your heart shall dread and your eyes shall see.” In other words, as bad as the reality will be, you will fear that the future will be worse. Fear of misfortune is often worse than any actual misfortune that might occur, as our imaginations conjure up all sorts of dreadful experiences we may feel we deserve.
I’m guessing I’m not alone. It’s easy to fall into catastrophizing because the human imagination and our anxious brains are phenomenally creative. However, nothing beats experience, and the Torah this week reminds us to let experience rather than overthinking set our expectations. One by one, perhaps we can work to silence our “what ifs.”
