A few years ago, we set out on a pleasant journey in the family car from Basel to London. We boarded the ferry and crossed the English Channel — that stretch of water separating England from the rest of the continent. The children fell asleep as we disembarked onto the roads of London. After about an hour of driving, Mendel, who was six years old at the time, suddenly woke up and asked in alarm: "Daddy, why is everyone driving the wrong way?"
I explained to him that in England, people drive differently. In fact, what seems "backwards" to us is perfectly straight to them — just as our "straight" is their "backwards."
Amused by the conversation, I recalled a favorite story of mine about the madman who stood before a panel of doctors. The doctors had just decided he must be hospitalized in a mental institution — or, as they used to say, “a madhouse.”
The man asked, “Why? Why should I be hospitalized?”
And the doctors answered unanimously: “Because we’ve determined that you are insane!”
To which the man replied: “But in my opinion, it’s exactly the opposite. I think you are the crazy ones, and I am perfectly normal.”
And here comes the line I love so much. The doctors answered: “You might be right. But what can we do? We’re the majority.”
As parents — and in general — we must always remember this. What we see as normal and reasonable may not appear so to someone else. Sometimes, even our children may not see it that way. Sometimes, another person’s “straight” is our “backwards.”
Parshat Masei lists the 42 journeys the Israelites took through the wilderness over forty years. The Baal Shem Tov taught that not only did the Israelites journey then — every Jew goes through 42 journeys in life. Some are long and heavy, others short and light — but journeys, nonetheless.
If you ask me, it’s best to accept that reality — and the sooner, the better.
The more I observe, the clearer it becomes: each person has their own personal journey, their own path that, for them, feels straight and normal — even if that same path may seem “backwards” or strange to someone else.
So what do we do?
Maybe we take a cue from the moment we get off the ferry in Dover, England: we look around, understand that what seems backwards is someone else’s straight, and try our best to merge smoothly into traffic.
Good luck.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Zalman Wishedski
