Jerusalem Therapy

Jerusalem Therapy Therapy for individuals, couples, and parents

Loving Relationships and Living Values

Israel: 053-808-0435
International: +972-53-808-0435

13/01/2026

Words connect you. But, in relationships, the same word can mean very different things.

Take the word “care.” One partner means actions; doing, providing, fixing. The other means presence in listening, comfort, and emotional closeness.

So you argue about caring and not caring, but you’re not talking about the same thing. That’s why nothing gets resolved.

In your next argument, don’t argue the word. Define it.

Clarity creates connection.

To Reach Out:
Email: info@jerusalemtherapy.org
Phone: 053-808-0435
International: +972538080435

- Bio -
Yonasan’s a graduate of Hebrew University’s School of Social Work and Social Welfare. He completed post graduate training in a wide array of therapeutic approaches from CBT at The Beck Institute, behavior and emotion focused therapies, to various Psychodynamic theories. Before Hebrew University, he studied at Washington University in St. Louis and Drake University majoring in philosophy and ethics. He received his rabbinic ordination from Rav Yitzchak Berkovits.

Yonasan is a member of the Association for Contextual Behavioral Science and a Dialectical Behavioral Therapist skills trainer. He has collaborated with Machon Dvir and has been a group leader for the National Educational Alliance for Borderline Personality Disorder Family Connections program.

He specializes in treating anxiety, depression, anger, poor self-esteem, insomnia, autism, eating disorders, psychosis, problems in parenting, sexual dysfunction, and marital conflict. He has an extensive background working with individuals, couples, families, and children in his therapy practice.

If you feel anxious around your partner, something important is happening. That tightness in your chest, that urge to sn...
09/01/2026

If you feel anxious around your partner, something important is happening. That tightness in your chest, that urge to snap or run, isn’t proof something is wrong with your marriage. It’s a signal the relationship matters deeply and that love is hesitating to speak.

Here’s what anxiety looks like at home. Your partner comes in distracted, barely engaging. You feel it immediately. Instead of saying what hurts, you hear yourself say, “Are you even listening?” But that sharp edge isn’t the truth. The truth is softer. “I miss you. I want to feel close again.” Anxiety twists caring into irritation because it’s afraid to risk vulnerability. When love goes unspoken, it comes out sideways.

Here’s the shift I want you to try. The next time anxiety shows up, pause and translate it. Don’t defend. Don’t accuse. Say the caring underneath it out loud. “I’m feeling anxious because you matter to me.” That single sentence changes the whole tone. It invites closeness instead of conflict. Try it once this week and notice how naming love gives it room to be heard.

To Reach Out:
Email: info@jerusalemtherapy.org
Phone: 053-808-0435
International: +972538080435

- Bio -
Yonasan’s a graduate of Hebrew University’s School of Social Work and Social Welfare. He completed post graduate training in a wide array of therapeutic approaches from CBT at The Beck Institute, behavior and emotion focused therapies, to various Psychodynamic theories. Before Hebrew University, he studied at Washington University in St. Louis and Drake University majoring in philosophy and ethics. He received his rabbinic ordination from Rav Yitzchak Berkovits.

Yonasan is a member of the Association for Contextual Behavioral Science and a Dialectical Behavioral Therapist skills trainer. He has collaborated with Machon Dvir and has been a group leader for the National Educational Alliance for Borderline Personality Disorder Family Connections program.

He specializes in treating anxiety, depression, anger, poor self-esteem, insomnia, autism, eating disorders, psychosis, problems in parenting, sexual dysfunction, and marital conflict. He has an extensive background working with individuals, couples, families, and children in his therapy practice.

06/01/2026

When you argue with your spouse, two problems are happening at once.

The first is the mistake. You were late. You forgot dinner. You didn’t follow through.

The second is the hurt. Your partner feels like they didn’t matter.

Most people try to fix the first problem first. They explain. Defend. Correct the facts. And it almost never works because the real issue isn’t logistical.
It’s emotional.

When you reconnect first, the tension drops.
Then the practical problem can actually be solved.

Next time there’s conflict, ask yourself:
“Am I fixing the mistake—or the feeling?”
Start with the feeling.
The rest will follow.

To Reach Out:
Email: info@jerusalemtherapy.org
Phone: 053-808-0435
International: +972538080435

- Bio -
Yonasan’s a graduate of Hebrew University’s School of Social Work and Social Welfare. He completed post graduate training in a wide array of therapeutic approaches from CBT at The Beck Institute, behavior and emotion focused therapies, to various Psychodynamic theories. Before Hebrew University, he studied at Washington University in St. Louis and Drake University majoring in philosophy and ethics. He received his rabbinic ordination from Rav Yitzchak Berkovits.

Yonasan is a member of the Association for Contextual Behavioral Science and a Dialectical Behavioral Therapist skills trainer. He has collaborated with Machon Dvir and has been a group leader for the National Educational Alliance for Borderline Personality Disorder Family Connections program.

He specializes in treating anxiety, depression, anger, poor self-esteem, insomnia, autism, eating disorders, psychosis, problems in parenting, sexual dysfunction, and marital conflict. He has an extensive background working with individuals, couples, families, and children in his therapy practice.

If you keep leaving arguments feeling confused, guilty, or ashamed, this is for you. One of the hardest things about dea...
04/01/2026

If you keep leaving arguments feeling confused, guilty, or ashamed, this is for you. One of the hardest things about dealing with abusive people isn’t the conflict itself. It’s they follow a pattern, and without a map, you end up blaming yourself instead of protecting yourself. The good news is once you recognize the pattern, you regain your footing.

Here’s the map I want you to hold onto. Toxic conflict moves in three steps. First comes gaslighting: they deny what they did and tell you you’re “too sensitive” or “crazy” for reacting. When that doesn’t work, it escalates into terrorizing. Raised voices, threats, attacks on your character that are meant to scare you into silence. And if that still fails, they flip the script. They play the victim claiming they had to treat you this way because you are the problem. I’ve seen clients attempt to calmly negotiate only to end it apologizing for things they didn’t do. That’s not communication. That’s manipulation.

Here’s your next step. when you see the pattern, stop engaging with the story and protect the boundary. Name what’s happening. “I’m not okay with being spoken to like this” and repeat it without defending yourself. Write things down if you need to as a script. Lean on people who remind you of your best self when your clarity starts slipping. You don’t need to out-argue abusive behavior. You justneed to recognize it. And once you do, you’ll discover something powerful. Safety doesn’t come from fixing them. It comes from standing firmly on your own ground.

To Reach Out:
Email: info@jerusalemtherapy.org
Phone: 053-808-0435
International: +972538080435

- Bio -
Yonasan’s a graduate of Hebrew University’s School of Social Work and Social Welfare. He completed post graduate training in a wide array of therapeutic approaches from CBT at The Beck Institute, behavior and emotion focused therapies, to various Psychodynamic theories. Before Hebrew University, he studied at Washington University in St. Louis and Drake University majoring in philosophy and ethics. He received his rabbinic ordination from Rav Yitzchak Berkovits.

Yonasan is a member of the Association for Contextual Behavioral Science and a Dialectical Behavioral Therapist skills trainer. He has collaborated with Machon Dvir and has been a group leader for the National Educational Alliance for Borderline Personality Disorder Family Connections program.

He specializes in treating anxiety, depression, anger, poor self-esteem, insomnia, autism, eating disorders, psychosis, problems in parenting, sexual dysfunction, and marital conflict. He has an extensive background working with individuals, couples, families, and children in his therapy practice.

End of life moments are extremely potent.  They stick with you for the rest of your life.  They even have the power to t...
01/01/2026

End of life moments are extremely potent. They stick with you for the rest of your life. They even have the power to transform. The power necessary to cause a life to leave this world is earth-shattering. The residue of this force changes the lives of those that remain. In my own life, like all of us, I’ve lost the most important people who shaped me. Some of them I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. They were taken from this world as quickly as they were given. They died with their boots on, so to speak. Others like my grandfather, were standing pillars all their life. Reliable. Powerful. There. His last moments on this earth were kind. They were short but clear, giving us some warning. There was a month where he had a hard time getting out of his chair. Impossible. Then, about another month in bed. He would still get dressed. The same white tee shirt and blue jeans. Not even death could beat out of him his routine. Friends who stopped by would ask, “Hey Ray. Thinking of working out in the garden today. Why are you dressed.” I loved his answer. “Something like that.” His “garden” was half his backyard. He was a man who worked all his life and wasn’t about to slow down now – even for the angel of death.

My last conversation with him is seared into my gut. It was simple and straightforward – so him. I didn’t get the chance to have “the final talk” with every relative. But, what I imagine they would have been are almost as important as the ones I did have. For the person passing away this talk is the culmination of their entire life. It's a way to give themselves over to their children and grandchildren so their work can continue. Sometimes this is an apology. Other times it’s a command. They can be whispers of hope and reassurances that it will be ok. Take this as deeply as you can imagine – things are said, and things are not said. Even though it’s whispered, it’s as loud as a cannon. And for the kids? Whatever is given you have to take on. It’s something that seeps into your bones whether you want it or not. If you’re lucky enough, it can even be something you can live up to.

This is Yaakov’s last moment. The father is on his back. His staff is resting in the corner never to be picked up again. Surrounding his bed everyone who ever loved him, truly, waits to hear his whisper. What will a man who stood his ground against angels say? “Yaakov called his sons and said, “Come together that I may tell you what is to befall you in days to come. Assemble and hearken, sons of Yaakov; Listen to Israel your father” (Bereishis 49:1-2). I doubt anyone was shocked. Amazing people say amazing things – you take it for granted like the mighty sun rising. What is truly shocking is he didn’t deliver. Things are said and things are not said. Why did Yaakov not reveal the days of Moshiach to his children? Why was it more important to not tell them this?

Yaakov’s silence is loud because it was deliberate. While he was ready to reveal the "end of days", the timeline of redemption, the Shechinah, wasn't. Just as it left him during the days Yosef was lost to him, it left him now (Rashi on Bereishis 49:1). This wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t a failure. It was a decision from Hashem and Yaakov needed to follow through with it. Bereishis Rabbah pulls this silence into sharper focus. It wasn’t about withholding; it was God’s strategy. If the end of days was clear, why strive? Why wrestle with the moral and spiritual work that brings redemption closer? By leaving the details hidden, God ensured we keep moving and growing. We keep trying (Bereishis Rabbah 98:2). Ramban captures this beautifully. He sees Yaakov’s silence not as a withholding but as an invitation. A way of saying, “Redemption will come, but only if you work for it.” Yaakov chose to stay silent because it made redemption something we aspire to. This demand for action is obvious in the mixture of brachos and warnings he gave each of his children. The future is not something we wait for. It's something we build with grit (Ramban on Bereishis 49:1).

Still, Yaakov left a mystery. Mysteries demand to be solved. Three towering figures stepped forward. The Rambam, Ramban, and Ramchal each offer a vision of their own. Each, in their works, piece together the depth of Yaakov’s final hidden prophesy. For Rambam, redemption is not a sudden upheaval but something that unfolds naturally. It's a steady historical progression moving toward a society perfected by peace and justice. The Messianic era restores Jewish sovereignty. It also shifts humanity’s focus to divine knowledge (Mishneh Torah: Hilchot Melachim 11:1). In Rambam’s world, the Messianic age doesn't upend the natural order; instead, it elevates it. The Ramban, however, paints a very different picture. For him, the Messianic era is not a refinement of what already exists—it's a transformation. The miracles of resurrection and the ultimate revelation of God define this world. (Sha’ar HaGemul). In his vision, nature itself changes. Animals, once predators, are reborn in harmony (Ramban on Vayikra 26:6). His redemption is a cosmic symphony of divine intervention. A re-creation of existence as it was meant to be. Then there's Ramchal. He doesn’t align himself with either vision; he brings them together. Redemption, for him, is part of a cosmic rectification of creation. Since the sin of Adam, history has been fractured. But redemption is the process of putting it all back together. In Ramchal’s view, this era is both spiritual and physical. Humanity achieves a heightened awareness of God's will. It aligns completely with it (Derech Hashem, Part 2, Chapter 4). this stage isn't the endpoint, either. It’s part of an ongoing rectification when God’s sovereignty shines through every corner of creation (Da’at Tevunot, Chapter 44). These three perspectives—natural progression, miraculous transformation, and cosmic rectification—don’t compete. They complement each other and illuminate the implications of Yaakov’s silence. Rambam speaks of human effort. Ramban emphasizes divine intervention. Ramchal weaves the two into a partnership.

Each description makes it obvious why so many would want to jump ahead to the end. Or at least put an end date onto something so good. Yet, our tradition makes it clear cutting corners is forbidden. Fine - what the end of days looks like is something we can only guess. But, we can't even get an end date? Why isn't there any peaking at the back of the math book for the answers? Rabbi Yonasan ben Uzziel tried but there too Hashem blocked him (Megillah 3a). Calculating a date is not morally neutral. Rabbi Shmuel bar Nachmani warns us with piercing clarity. “May those who calculate the end of days be cursed” (Sanhedrin 97b). Why such strong words? One reason is because failed predictions don’t just disappoint—they erode faith. They leave people thinking redemption will never come. Instead, the Gemara tells us to hold fast to hope, grounded in the prophetic assurance. “Though it tarry, wait for it” (Yishiahu 30:18). But this waiting isn’t passive. This leads to the second reason which the first, in large part, depends on. Faith can't stand on flimsy promises. There has to be real substance there that gives justification for the person to hope. The Gemara builds on this tension between human effort and divine will. Rav teaches repentance and good deeds are the foundation—prerequisites for redemption. Rabbi Eliezer agrees, emphasizing human transformation is essential. Rabbi Yehoshua takes a broader view. Even if we don’t voluntarily repent, God orchestrates events to compel it. Sometimes through harsh rulers, sometimes through circumstances that leave us no choice. The debate continues in Sanhedrin 98a, painting a picture of two possible Messianic arrivals. If we’re deserving, the Moshiach will come swift and majestic, “with the clouds of heaven.” If not, the arrival will be humble and delayed, “lowly and riding upon a donkey.” Redemption is both something we can earn and something bestowed upon us. A delicate balance of divine orchestration and human responsibility.

Put simply, some knowledge is too sacred to disclose. Why? Because the mystery itself inspires pragmatic action. If everything were revealed, what room would there be for the work that brings redemption closer? Like Yaakov’s silence transforms the unknowable into a call to action. By withholding the specifics, God calls us to focus on the here and now. What are our spiritual responsibilities that shape our daily lives? Redemption, then, isn’t a future endpoint. It’s a call to live with purpose right now. It’s moral behavior and communal responsibility which lay the foundation for a better world (Pesachim 56a; Bereishis Rabbah 99:6). Yaakov’s silence wasn’t an absence. It was a deliberate decision to preserve the delicate balance between providence and human effort. If he had revealed the "end of days," the urgency to strive, grow, and act fad. Instead, his silence forces us to wrestle with the unknown. The silence turns uncertainty into a call to action. As Haemek Davar explains, Yaakov’s blessings were more than prophetic. They were practical guidance. They blended rebuke with reassurance to foster spiritual and communal alignment (Haemek Davar on Bereishis 49:1-2). This tension between concealment and revelation carries profound implications. Obsessing over the specifics of Messianic prophecy leads to disillusionment and distraction (Iggeret Teiman). It sacrifices one's focus present-day ethical responsibilities (Derech Hashem, Part 4, Chapter 7).

This leads us to a profound paradox at the heart of Jewish thought. Longing for redemption must coexist with the recognition that it's not an end in itself. It's a means to fulfill our ultimate purpose. Rambam, Ramban, and Ramchal all converge on this point in their own ways. They see the Messianic era not so much as a time of reward. Rather as an opportunity to deepen our connection with God and perfect the world. By focusing too much on the "end," we risk neglecting the "means". Acts of kindness, justice, and holiness lay the foundation for redemption (Sanhedrin 97b; Ramban, Sha’ar HaGemul). But what happens when redemption itself comes with a price? What do we lose in the Messianic era that we hold so dear today?

The Messianic era, as described by the Rambam, is a world without war, oppression, or ignorance. A time of universal peace where humanity turns its collective focus to the knowledge of God (Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Melachim 11:1). But even in this vision of perfection, something essential slips away—the struggle itself. The forging of moral strength in the fires of adversity. The refinement that comes only from navigating uncertainty. Without conflict or confusion, what becomes of the grit needed to wrestle with the unknown? When everything is clear, what is left to strive for? The Ramban’s vision is even more breathtaking. Mortality evaporates into eternity, and nature is reborn. Predators live in harmony with prey; human frailty and impurity are no more (Sha’ar HaGemul). It’s a world so radiant that death and sin become relics of a broken past. But in this dazzling transformation, something bittersweet is lost. Mortality gives life its urgency. The struggle against sin offers the chance to atone, to grow, to become. Without the weight of failure, where's the opportunity to rise above it? The tension that shapes the soul—righteousness forged in a flawed and finite world—fades into the background. For the Ramchal, the Messianic era is nothing short of cosmic rectification. The barriers of divine hiddenness dissolve, and God’s light floods the cosmos (Derech Hashem, Part 2, Chapter 4). Evil is stripped away; physicality is transformed; creation itself aligns with divine will. But even in this sublime existence, something slips through our fingers. With divine truth fully revealed, the raw courage of free will is no longer needed. The battles we fight to choose good in the face of obscurity, the victories over darkness that shape our spiritual legacy—are no longer possible. The Messianic age, for all its beauty, loses the sharp-edged heroism of our current world.

To yearn for Moshiach is to long for a new world, but also to say goodbye to the one we know. It’s to dream of the perfection Rambam, Ramban, and Ramchal envision; while knowing it comes at a cost. The challenges that define us, the uncertainties that deepen our faith, the brokenness that gives us purpose—all these must be left behind. Redemption is not just a promise of peace. It’s a farewell to the growth found in struggle, the beauty forged in hardship, and the connections born of longing. It's these virtues that make us greater than angels. One cannot truly want Moshiach to come without first recognizing there is a serious cost. No mitazvah is easy or simple. Every single one demands some level of personal sacrifice. Yearning for the moshiach is the greatest sacrifice of all. With something so huge and transformative, how could it be any other way?

This is the quiet brilliance of Yaakov’s silence. It reminds us that the Messianic era isn’t an endpoint to await. It’s a transformation that demands courage and humility. To truly desire Moshiach is to be ready to relinquish the contours of what makes our lives noble for a reality beyond our comprehension. It’s to honor what we lose, even as we prepare for what we gain. Redemption isn’t a promise; it’s a paradox. It calls us to hope for what’s coming while cherishing what we have. To walk that line takes faith, not just in the destination, but in the journey that gets us there.

To Reach Out:
Email: info@jerusalemtherapy.org
Phone: 053-808-0435
International: +972-53-808-0435

- Bio -
Yonasan’s a graduate of Hebrew University’s School of Social Work and Social Welfare. He completed post graduate training in a wide array of therapeutic approaches from CBT at The Beck Institute, behavior and emotion focused therapies, to various Psychodynamic theories. Before Hebrew University, he studied at Washington University in St. Louis and Drake University majoring in philosophy and ethics. He received his rabbinic ordination from Rav Yitzchak Berkovits.

Yonasan is a member of the Association for Contextual Behavioral Science and a Dialectical Behavioral Therapist skills trainer. He has collaborated with Machon Dvir and has been a group leader for the National Educational Alliance for Borderline Personality Disorder Family Connections program.

He specializes in treating anxiety, depression, anger, poor self-esteem, insomnia, autism, eating disorders, psychosis, problems in parenting, sexual dysfunction, and marital conflict. He has an extensive background working with individuals, couples, families, and children in his therapy practice.

In this DBT Quick Tips Video we cover the Emotion Regulation Skill of Distraction.  There are several types of distracti...
30/12/2025

In this DBT Quick Tips Video we cover the Emotion Regulation Skill of Distraction. There are several types of distraction strategies covered that you can use when your emotions begin to get out of hand and you see that your tolerance of the experience is breaking down taking you somewhere you'll regret later.

To Reach Out:
Email: info@jerusalemtherapy.org
Phone: 053-808-0435
International: +972538080435

- Bio -
Yonasan’s a graduate of Hebrew University’s School of Social Work and Social Welfare. He completed post graduate training in a wide array of therapeutic approaches from CBT at The Beck Institute, behavior and emotion focused therapies, to various Psychodynamic theories. Before Hebrew University, he studied at Washington University in St. Louis and Drake University majoring in philosophy and ethics. He received his rabbinic ordination from Rav Yitzchak Berkovits.

Yonasan is a member of the Association for Contextual Behavioral Science and a Dialectical Behavioral Therapist skills trainer. He has collaborated with Machon Dvir and has been a group leader for the National Educational Alliance for Borderline Personality Disorder Family Connections program.

He specializes in treating anxiety, depression, anger, poor self-esteem, insomnia, autism, eating disorders, psychosis, problems in parenting, sexual dysfunction, and marital conflict. He has an extensive background working with individuals, couples, families, and children in his therapy practice.

https://youtu.be/dXOIzAr23P8

In this DBT Quick Tips Video we cover the Emotion Regulation Skill of Distraction. There are several types of distraction strategies covered that you can us...

If you’ve been trying to change by sheer effort alone and keep hitting a wall, you’re not weak.  You’re human. The most ...
29/12/2025

If you’ve been trying to change by sheer effort alone and keep hitting a wall, you’re not weak. You’re human. The most powerful truth I see as a therapist is motivation isn’t fixed inside you like a muscle. This isn't about either you "having it" or not. Rather, it shifts when the environment around you shifts. When the ground under your feet moves, your behavior follows.

Think of it like this. You can’t always swim against a strong current forever. But you can step into a different river. I’ve seen people struggle for years to stop destructive habits... Only to change quickly after making the move they knew they needed. The job was killing them, so they switched. The neighborhood had changed, and they found the right place after the move. The only solution to bad friends was making different friends. One client wanted to drink less but couldn’t “white-knuckle” it. When he changed his routine spending evenings with people who didn’t need a shot first, the fight eased. He wasn’t suddenly stronger. He was better supported.

Don’t ask, “Why can’t I force myself to change?” Ask instead, “How can I set up my life to make the right choice easier?” Small shifts matter and need the courage to try something new. Change doesn't begin with pressure. Instead, it comes from the courage to try something new putting yourself in a different place. Go to where you can move forward and let hope grow from there.

To Reach Out:
Email: info@jerusalemtherapy.org
Phone: 053-808-0435
International: +972538080435

- Bio -
Yonasan’s a graduate of Hebrew University’s School of Social Work and Social Welfare. He completed post graduate training in a wide array of therapeutic approaches from CBT at The Beck Institute, behavior and emotion focused therapies, to various Psychodynamic theories. Before Hebrew University, he studied at Washington University in St. Louis and Drake University majoring in philosophy and ethics. He received his rabbinic ordination from Rav Yitzchak Berkovits.

Yonasan is a member of the Association for Contextual Behavioral Science and a Dialectical Behavioral Therapist skills trainer. He has collaborated with Machon Dvir and has been a group leader for the National Educational Alliance for Borderline Personality Disorder Family Connections program.

He specializes in treating anxiety, depression, anger, poor self-esteem, insomnia, autism, eating disorders, psychosis, problems in parenting, sexual dysfunction, and marital conflict. He has an extensive background working with individuals, couples, families, and children in his therapy practice.

Your heart is about the size of your fist. But it can carry a lot more than your hands ever could. You carry with it the...
28/12/2025

Your heart is about the size of your fist. But it can carry a lot more than your hands ever could. You carry with it the weight of others’ lives. Some people carry more than others. It’s not a competition. It’s largely a mix between circumstances and your proclivities. Simply put, not everyone is interested in becoming an ER surgeon. Even when you are, some nights, thank God, are slower than others. At that level, sometimes, these sorts of people don’t even realize how deeply they feel others’ pain. But it shows up in subtle ways. They get tired more quickly, even after a full night’s sleep. They feel a vague sadness they can’t shake. When they walk into a room, they pick up on the invisible burdens most people miss. People who deeply live for others are like tuning forks. They vibrate sympathetically with every sorrow, joy, and heartbreak.

Yaakov Avinu was one of those people. His life, as he described it to Pharaoh, was “few and hard” (Bereishis 47:9). This wasn’t because of his personal struggles. His pain was magnified by the pain of those he loved. To understand Yaakov’s life, you can’t just look at his years but at the years of those around him. Leah’s longing for love. Rachel’s struggle with infertility. Yosef’s betrayal and loss. Dinah’s violation. Every sorrow in his family became Yaakov’s sorrow. He didn’t observe their struggles from the sidelines; he lived them with them. When Rachel cried over her empty arms, Yaakov felt the weight of her tears. When Yosef was torn from his family, it was as though Yaakov’s own heart was ripped apart. His life was “few and hard” because he never let himself stand apart. He was there, always, fully, with those he loved.

Carrying others’ pain at that level is not out of empathy. Sure, it requires empathy—the ability to understand and feel others’ feelings. But it requires much more. If you stop at empathy, you run into trouble. The best-case outcome is emotional burnout. Caring too much ends up eroding away your ability to care. The worst-case scenario is vicarious trauma. This strikes when you stop at deeply feeling. Relating so much to another’s experience can begin to feel as if you yourself went through what they did. With time, it can be just as debilitating. In my work as a supervising therapist, I’ve had to help seasoned therapists navigate this terrain. For the wounded healer, it can be terrifying. Their most cherished trait—that they care—becomes the thing that tears them apart. The common denominator in these two outcomes is stopping at holding another’s pain. Holding is not carrying. Carrying means you have direction. You have purpose. The only way to deal with this sort of suffering is to channel it into a journey forward. Yaakov exemplified this in his resilience in the face of his suffering and that of those around him. Combining selfless altruism and a steadfast spiritual mission, he transformed witnessing pain into strength and balance—two things you need when you’re hauling something forward. Rav Chaim of Volozhin makes a personal confession on this point in discussing his own father. "He regularly rebuked me, because he saw that I did not participate in the pain of others. And these were his constant words to me: This is the entire person. One is not created for himself, but to benefit others with the full extent of his powers" (Introduction, Nefesh HaChaim). Yaakov’s life exemplifies this ideal. He didn’t see his existence as his own but as a tool for easing the burdens of those around him. He carried their suffering not because he had to but because he chose to. The essence of being human is benefiting others.

With a burden on your back, no path forward is easy, especially when the task is so large. Being created in the image of God means emulating divine kindness, "so that our greatest desire should be to do good to others" (Introduction, Shaarei Yosher). For Yaakov, that meant sacrificing his own peace of mind to ensure others were supported. But it also meant enduring the pain of knowing he couldn’t fix everything. He couldn’t take away Rachel’s heartbreak entirely. He couldn’t undo Dinah’s trauma. He couldn’t rewrite the years Yosef spent enslaved and imprisoned. What he could do—and did—was remain present. He stood by them, felt their pain with them. He gave them the strength to continue because he held onto the vision of what their future could be. He gave them the vision of hope they couldn’t see. This kind of life is brave. It’s virtuous, and to my mind, the only meaningful path forward. Considering the nature of reality, the only other alternative is to just take it. That isn’t much of an alternative. The pain is commensurate with the reward. It also leaves scars. Yaakov’s hardships visibly aged him, to the point that Pharaoh marveled at his appearance (Ramban, Bereishis 47:9). But Yaakov didn’t shy away from this toll. He understood living for others doesn’t mean living a life free of suffering. It means transforming that suffering into something meaningful.

Rashi (Shabbos 105b) differentiates between years of life and years of existence. Yaakov’s “years of life”—defined by moral fulfillment—were fewer than his forefathers’. But those years were rich in meaning because those struggles led to revelatory moments. The daily grind of carrying those burdens was not, in and of itself, revelatory. By seeing each day as important for the task at hand, Yaakov didn't live according to years. His days were cumulatively meaningful in the grand scheme of his years. Put another way, only after years did each day's task come to fruition (Rav Hirsch, 47:7-9; Malbim, Bereishis 47:9). Yaakov’s life was “few and hard” not because it lacked value but because he invested so much of himself into others. His hardships weren’t a sign of failure but of deep involvement in the human condition.

Looking at Yaakov’s life as a “sojourn”—transient—(Bereishis 47:9) amplifies this idea. Seeing things that way puts life into perspective. Not to be cute, but you can't think of a time you were never here. It's not as though life feels like it's an option—today I’m here, tomorrow I’ll be on life-vacation. Be back in the office on Monday. Our bodies feel that this is it and always has been. However, Yaakov knew better. There are two ways to go with the knowledge of our mortality. One is nihilistic. What's the point? We all die anyway. That’s Pharaoh's view, equating success and value with longevity and material prosperity. All that is only valuable insofar as it's a painkiller that gets you to the ultimate end. Nothing. The second is Yaakov's. Life is a journey (Rabbenu Bechya, Bereishis 47:8). It has a beginning, middle, and end. Just because it has an end that’s outside of our control doesn’t make it meaningless. Rather, it makes it bounded and limited (Shadal, Bereishis 47:9). That’s what focus is—not pointlessness.

This reframe of life is a huge one that can’t be overstated. We’re all trekking through a land of impermanence filled with countless dangers: quicksand of contentment, vipers of pleasure and ease. But for the hero on this journey, life is a preparatory stage for something far greater: intellectual and spiritual perfection (Moreh Nevuchim 3:12). While these dangers are pleasing, they’re ephemeral (Moreh Nevuchim 3:27). The upside, for Yaakov types, is that there isn’t much reason to put too much faith in the material world. It doesn’t just promise suffering; it’s the core reason why suffering exists—arising out of its impermanence, deficiencies, and limitations. The only place you won’t find suffering is with Hashem because He’s perfect. The world isn’t (Moreh Nevuchim 3:24). That’s why emulating Hashem is the right call. In a sense, by doing that you’re making a pocket of Hashem in this imperfect world of pain. Instead of being preoccupied with stones and wood, you can use them to build a palace of perfection in your emulation of Hashem (Moreh Nevuchim 3:51). By trying to emulate Hashem, you become constantly aware of His presence from your own actions (Moreh Nevuchim 3:52). That’s the real journey. Life’s brevity isn’t a flaw; it’s the container that gives structure and meaning. Each trial refined Yaakov’s character and brought him closer to God’s wisdom. Mesillat Yesharim (9:4) captures this sentiment: life is not meant for tranquility but for toil. It’s meant to be a process of growth and spiritual elevation. Emphasis on the word “process.”

Yaakov’s life exemplifies the interplay between divine providence and human agency. This balance provides a framework for understanding how resilience and selfless altruism both hold burnout and vicarious trauma at bay. The tension between these two is a bit of a bait-and-switch. Selfless altruism requires a serious perspective shift in life. You need to be able to say, “Come what may, I’m here.” It rubs out consequences—the very thing that causes the most suffering in life. It protects you, the helper, from the snake of arrogant healing. Some people get a high from helping others. Nothing wrong with that, per se. Good things feel good. When you fail, though, it can be crushing. That’s a sign it’s become more about you than the person you’re helping. A part of being selfless means keeping yourself out of the other person’s business. Yes, it’s noble to help them. But in order to do that, you can’t steal their pain. It’s not yours to take. Pain, in many ways, is a personalized gift for growth. Other people’s pain won’t fit you. It won’t help you grow.

Resilience, on the other hand, focuses on the process. It’s zeroing in on the present moment experience. The past happened, and we don’t know the future. You might have some educated guesses where things are heading, and you have to be practical. But only one theory will pan out, and you can’t get bogged down in “what ifs.” The future certainly contains its treasures, but there has to be a worthwhile reason right now, in this moment, to keep you on the course. Both, from slightly different angles, position you to stay focused on the other person. They anchor you into this specific pain and direct you away from the infinite and crushing possibilities of future suffering that generally don’t manifest anyway. They also take the heat off of solution-finding. Don’t get me wrong—there is nothing more that I love than solutions. If you change this, then you get that. That can help make sure you don’t go through what you did again. It’s not so great with the self-reflection part. Escaping the suffering of the past requires being able to reframe pain into purpose. How does what you went through make sense in the grand scheme of things? The world isn’t changing—it has too many moving parts that you don’t have control over. Those things are in Hashem's hands—that's where He intervenes (HaEmek Davar, Bereishis 47:9). What wisdom were you lacking that got you where you were? What new part of reality needs to be accepted so you can move forward again with confidence? What, about yourself, do you need to be more in tune with? Bearing the burdens of others, when rooted in a sense of personal mission, is what transforms this broken world into spiritual opportunity (Moreh Nevuchim 3:24).

Yaakov knew his life was not his own. That lack of ownership is what gave it meaning in the first place. Every choice he made, every hardship he endured, was in service to those he loved. Even when separated from them—a unique pain—he remained focused on them (Torah Temimah, Bereishis 47:9). His isolated Torah study with Shem and Ever was not an escape. It was a preparation for his role as one of the avos, ensuring he could guide his family with wisdom and faith. This same spirit colored his exile with Lavan. Yaakov’s life was a testament to these ideals. He bore the burdens of his family’s struggles but not as a martyr. Put another way, a lot of folks feel bitter at Hashem for not showing them love. They ask, does He even care? Yaakov knew the answer was yes. He also knew that Hashem doesn’t work that way. Like a good administrator, He hires someone else to do it and stands out of their way. No one likes a nit-picky boss. Imagine having to deal with an all-knowing and all-seeing boss 24/7. Yes, you would be doing His work. He’d make sure of that. But you wouldn’t be making it your own with your own style and insight. Yaakov answered Hashem’s call as a vessel for divine love.

Yaakov’s story is a challenge and call to reevaluate how you live. Are you willing to bear the weight of others’ struggles? Do you transform your hardships into opportunities for growth and connection? His life reminds us that true greatness lies not in avoiding pain but in rushing toward it. By using pain, you can deepen your relationships because you’re busy fulfilling a higher purpose. Take a moment to think about the people in your life. Who carries silent burdens that you could help shoulder? Reflect on how you can support them without overextending yourself. This might involve setting emotional boundaries to remain resilient, practicing self-care to replenish yourself, and only offering acts of kindness within your capacity. Consider asking them directly how you can help or simply being a present and empathetic listener. Who feels unseen in their pain? Like Yaakov, we are not here for ourselves alone. We are here to feel, to connect, and to support. The years may be hard, but they can also be full—full of connection.

In the end, it’s not the length of your years but the depth of your connection to others that matters. Yaakov’s life was “few and hard.” That’s why it was also rich with purpose.

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- Bio -
Yonasan’s a graduate of Hebrew University’s School of Social Work and Social Welfare. He completed post graduate training in a wide array of therapeutic approaches from CBT at The Beck Institute, behavior and emotion focused therapies, to various Psychodynamic theories. Before Hebrew University, he studied at Washington University in St. Louis and Drake University majoring in philosophy and ethics. He received his rabbinic ordination from Rav Yitzchak Berkovits.

Yonasan is a member of the Association for Contextual Behavioral Science and a Dialectical Behavioral Therapist skills trainer. He has collaborated with Machon Dvir and has been a group leader for the National Educational Alliance for Borderline Personality Disorder Family Connections program.

He specializes in treating anxiety, depression, anger, poor self-esteem, insomnia, autism, eating disorders, psychosis, problems in parenting, sexual dysfunction, and marital conflict. He has an extensive background working with individuals, couples, families, and children in his therapy practice.

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