26 Jan THREE LAYERS OF HUMAN IDENTITY THE HUMAN TREE
THE HUMAN TREE
“The human being is a tree of the field,” the Torah states. In fact, the Jewish calendar reserves one day each year, the “New Year for Trees” on the 15th of Shevat, for us to contemplate our affinity with the botanical universe.
Why is the human being compared, in the biblical imagination, to a tree?
ROOTS, BODY & FRUIT
A tree’s primary components are: the roots, which anchor it to the ground and supply it with water and other nutrients; the trunk, branches and leaves that comprise its body; and the fruit, which is harvested and enjoyed by humans or animals and also contains the seeds through which the tree reproduces itself.
This is why the Torah compares us to trees, because a human being is also comprised of three components: roots, a body, and fruit. This comparison holds true on three levels: psychologically, chronologically and spiritually.
The roots of the tree, buried underground and mostly invisible, represent the subconscious layers of the human psyche, which are for the most part invisible. Just like the roots of a tree, the composition, breadth and depth of the human subconscious are disguised and constitute the roots of all manifestations of the human self.
The body of the tree – the conspicuous manifestation of its roots — symbolizes the conscious personality of the human being, the way we describe our existence consciously to ourselves. It is the “person” you (think you) know.
The fruit of the tree – harvested and consumed by others – represent the impact we have on the lives of people around us; it embodies our ability to plant a seed in a fellow human being and see it sprout, grow and bear fruit.
CHILDHOOD, ADULTHOOD & LEADERSHIP
On a chronological level, the roots represent the childhood years, when our subconscious convictions and feelings are being molded, which is why investing time and energy in children is the most noble and critical endeavor. A scratch on the trunk does not amount to much; a defect in the roots can impact the entire tree in dramatic ways. The significance of childhood is often invisible like roots of a tree, but it is the foundation of everything that comes later. Nurture those roots and your tree will be beautiful.
As we graduate childhood and become self-efficient humans, we are compared to the tall and projective trunk of the tree. At last we have emerged to become independent and self-standing adults.
Then, as we grow older and become leaders in our communities, as we marry, bear children and create something larger than ourselves, we begin to produce “fruit” that continue to procreate and impact generations to come.
CONVICTION, STUDY & GIVING
On a spiritual level, the roots represent faith, our source of nurture and perseverance. The trunk is the visible “body” of our spiritual lives — our intellectual, emotional and practical achievements; our study of Torah, observance of mitzvos and daily ethical activities. Finally, the fruit represents our power of spiritual procreation — the ability to influence others, to plant our seeds in their souls.
Faith, just like roots, constitutes the foundation of life (without roots, a tree cannot survive). Our belief in the essential spirituality and meaning of life is the foundation of our entire “tree.” From it stems the trunk of our understanding, from which branch out our feelings, motivations and deeds. Yet the true extent of faith is concealed from others and even from ourselves.
“The human being is a tree of the field.” We operate on three levels. There is who we are (the roots); who we think we are (the trunk), and who others think we are (the fruit). In a tree, the three components are integrated into a single, wholesome entity. Our job, the Torah is intimating, is to integrate the components of our “tree,” so that our roots, bodies and fruits become one.
ARE YOU A BIRD, A WALL OR A TREE?
There is another reason we are compared to a tree. There is an intriguing Midrash based on a verse in Psalms (Chapter 144) where King David states: “Yamav Ketzeil Oyver” – A persons years are like a passing shadow (4).
One of the great Talmudic sages, Rabbi Huna, in the Midrash (Midrash Rabbah Bereishis 96:2) explains this verse to mean that there are three types of shadows. One is the shadow of a bird, which flies by quickly and casts its shadow but for a fleeting moment. The second is the shadow cast by a wall, which has some permanence, as it is seen during the early hours of the morning and in late afternoon, but in the midday sun, there is no wall-shadow.
Finally there is the shadow generated by the tree, which is consistent throughout the day.
And Rabbi Huna continues: “Would that life was like the shadow cast by a wall or a tree, but it is like the shadow of a bird in flight,” — “Yamav Ketzeil Oyver” – A persons years are like a passing shadow.
What does this mean? How is it that our days are likened to the fleeting shadow of a bird, which doesn’t remain stationary for a moment? After all, our days, though relatively few, still have some degree of continuity and permanence. People live seventy, eighty, even 100 years. If, indeed, our days are as an insubstantial shadow, are they not at least like the shadow of a tree, and not that of a bird?
REFLECTING ON THREE
LIFE-STYLES
The message here is simple yet profound. The three types of shadows represent three very different life-styles. There are people who generate the shadow of a bird, others who create the shadow of the wall while others who are compared to the tree and its shadow.
Every human being leaves an impact. Each of us casts our own inimitable shadow on our world. “Life is a powerful play and you contribute your verse,” a poet once said. Each of us contributes our note to the ballad we call life. The question is, how profound and how real is our impact? Will my shadow be the one of a bird, a wall or a tree?
Rabbi Huna says that there are those individuals whose life can be compared to the passing shadow of a flying bird. The bird flies and the shadow flies with it. This represents an individual whose impact is fleeting. He may live for many years and he may spend five decades building a business or a company, but this may prove one day to go down the tubes without true and lasting value. This person may have been very very busy, but essentially he is like a flying bird. He was not involved in anything which really left an impression, which made an eternal dent. He cast a shadow by virtue of being alive, of walking the street, of shopping in the store, of depositing money in his bank account, of selling a house, of tailoring his clothe and purchasing his car. But this shadow comes and goes.
How many people have shared with me over this past year their regrets over their past life-style. “I worked 13 hours a day for 10 years, I neglected my most important relationships, and for what? Where did all this work go to? Was what it invested in?”
IS YOUR JAR FULL?
A Professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly, he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.
So the Professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.