I am a Type A personality. I try to keep it in check, but I have accepted that I would like to have a greater amount of control than what any human is generally given in life. Of course, I’ve found that trying to wrest control out of situations or people isn’t a great way to get through life, because people resent it and it backfires.
There are opportunities to use this trait that work well, though. For example, I love baking. No one seems to complain if I exercise extreme control and turn out some excellent baked goods. We recently had a (thank G-d) very brief stint with lice in our house and I thought to myself, “I was made for this moment.”
Outside of occasional examples, though, I have to be careful not to let my natural inclination to direct and guide situations get out of hand. With recent events in my personal life and at the national and international level, this has been harder and harder. As things seem more and more out of control externally, the more and more I want to inwardly control them.
When I was pregnant with my first child, someone told me that kids will teach you the unlearned lessons of your life. I wasn’t quite sure what that meant at the time, but for me, this has meant that because parenting is so challenging, it is bound to point out areas of growth and opportunity. If I have a weak area or healing to do, it’s going to show up. At that point, I have a choice to work on it or continue to operate as I have been. The thing is, if I keep showing up the same way I always have, that same situation seems to continue to present itself – until I’m ready to change, I will be shown that it’s problematic and given opportunities for growth.
I love Judaism’s discussions about character traits and our opportunities to cultivate them in service to G-d and humanity. Even more so, I love the study of Mussar, which is a spiritual practice to study and develop ethics based on one’s personal virtues. I’ve read that Mussar points out each person’s unique soul curriculum and provides opportunities to grow along that curricular path.
“The straight path is the middle path in every trait a person has, far from either extreme…” (Hilchot De’ot 1:4). This passage from Rambam (Maimonides) reminds me that exaggerated characteristics are not preferred, and equanimity is what I should be striving for. Superb baked goods and (literal) nit-picking notwithstanding, everyday life calls for balance.
There is a particular irony that my three children have combinations of my personality, their father’s personality, and their own unique additions. Coming face-to-face with some of my own brand of stubbornness provides opportunities for humility and growth that I did not see coming when my friend offered the observation that I’d find myself being taught the unlearned lessons of my life. At the same time, it is a joy to see their individual personalities develop and foresee what their own soul curricula might be based on their developing middot.
