From the heart of Jerusalem: My last column for now... but with lessons learned

“How was Israel, Sam?”
I get that a lot. And I never really know what to say. But not because I don’t know how Israel was. Rather, I am at a loss for how I could possibly summarize my experience in a few words of small talk. “It was great” falls so short of the mark. “Wonderful?” “Really wonderful?” I’ve tried “life-changing,” but people just look at me funny for answering too dramatically. Plus, as true as such a response may be, “life-changing” is still meaningless and vague. In this article I will describe what I wish I could say each time someone asks me how my year was.
My year in Israel can essentially be captured in one change and that is a change of priorities. During the year, I reassessed what brings the most to life and reached new conclusions. To say that Judaism is my new priority would be a copout. Rather it is through the lens of Judaism that I came to see a deeply revealing perspective of what is most important.
I would venture to say that this new objective can be captured in one word: appreciation.  It may seem obvious, but I came to see that happiness is not the accumulation of precious items but rather the appreciation of them.  And what was most striking to me was that I found the Jewish practice to be built around achieving this appreciation.  My Judaism is not labored servitude to another will but rather the realization of my own.
Before getting into examples, I’ll explain what I mean by appreciation. Quite simply, appreciation is valuing what you do have rather than coveting what you do not. Money is the obvious example. But this concept extends so far beyond money. Instead of wishing Yeshiva food was better, be thankful you look forward to three meals everyday. Instead of being sad when you are away from your family, just be happy that you have the close relationships in your life at all. Consider the cup half-full. The ultimate misunderstanding is that more possessions brings more appreciation. But this concept is absurd because appreciation is not in the external world but rather in the mind. In theory there is more potential to appreciate more possessions than there is to appreciate fewer possessions. But in practice, we are so far from fully appreciating that it makes no difference how much more we accumulate. When was the last time you fully appreciated your life? How can you truly appreciate a new car when you cannot even appreciate the infinitely dwarfing value of life?
So appreciation is the goal. And after a year studying in yeshiva and living in the Old City, I can say I have found a way I believe will allow me to succeed, and that is the observant Jewish lifestyle, whose halacha enforces appreciation.
The Talmud in Shabbat 31a describes three questions that one faces after he dies. One of these is whether he enjoyed G-d’s world. Indeed appreciating the world is a deeply Jewish value, in fact a pillar of Jewish life. He is not asked whether he accumulated the most during his life but rather whether he enjoyed what he was given.
To further illustrate this Jewish emphasis on appreciation I offer specific icons of Jewish practice. Shabbat is perhaps the most notable exercise in appreciation. For six days we work in what often feels like an endless chain of striving. And then for one day we stop and look around and, rather than think about where we have to go, appreciate where we already are. The specific halachot preclude plans for the future, forcing the observer to live in the moment and enjoy the moment.
Daily davening is another element of Jewish practice that highlights appreciation. Three times a day, we turn our minds away from the stressful trivialities of daily life and remember the bigger picture in order to appreciate life’s gifts. This directs our minds away from the dissatisfactions that darken our days and refresh us as we turn back to work.
Kashrut too captures a focus on appreciation. I do not mean an appreciation for the food itself—this is achieved by brachot on the food. But kashrut represents appreciation of humanity’s elevation over the animal kingdom. Choosing which food to eat and which not to eat on the basis of something entirely nonphysical reminds the observer that he himself is something beyond the physical as well. This appreciation of one’s unique humanity can be harnessed to overcome physical, animalistic strivings and replace them with contentment. These animal strivings may have helped the cavemen compete for survival but they bring misery in the modern age.
So that is my take on my year’s experience and my new take on Judaism. I now see Jewish observance as my gateway to happiness. It is shocking the amount of discipline still required to remain observant even after acknowledging observances’ potential to enhance one’s life. This is because although Judaism brings happiness, it does not always bring instant gratification the same way sleeping late or eating nonkosher food can. But still I am convinced that the struggle is worthwhile for the stable and deep-rooted haven of joy that it promises.
And so I leave Jerusalem for now, but not her heart.

Samuel Fisher grew up in Newton, Massachusetts and graduated from Maimonides School in 2010. He has just completed a year of studying at Yeshivat Orayta in the Old City of Jerusalem after which he will attend Harvard College.