Learning to Follow the Blessing

Jewish sages teach us to “flee from honor,” but today everyone is a self-promoter. Professional headshots, incessant social media updates, and building your brand are the name of the game. This teaching is wise; self-regard can quickly become an addiction. Yet the reality is that when we believe in our products and services, we need to get the word out, which involves a certain degree of “seeking honor.” 

Over the years I burned through a lot of psychic energy and cash promoting my books and my name. I threw myself into it enthusiastically because I believed in my work. Honor was hard-won, and didn’t exactly throw its arms open wide, asking, “Darling, where have you been all my life?” I did my job cheerfully for years before I questioned the return-on-investment ratio.  

Few writers are ever satisfied with the number of readers or sales they earn. Even the most successful can hunger for more. I recognized the danger of getting obsessed with it all and reminded myself of another Jewish teaching: I have everything in my life that I need right now. What is meant for someone else is not meant for me. This felt true and wise and necessary for me to grasp, though it didn’t settle in easily or quickly. I envied the success of some other writers, especially those whose work I considered second-rate or that promoted ideas I felt were damaging to society. I worked on redefining success, realizing that spreading the light of Jewish values, even subtly, was valuable.  

Still, I battled with the notion that “success” (ill-defined as it was) would continue to elude me. Fortunately, I decided to skip meeting with yet another marketing expert and instead met with Rachel, a teacher of Jewish spirituality. While on a speaking tour in L.A., Rachel taught a class on male-female polarities and women’s creative potential. I was drawn to her deep wisdom and understated tone, and grabbed an appointment to consult with her.

Frankly, I was embarrassed to present her with my “first-world” kvetch, but Rachel greeted me with a smile that felt like a hug. 

I knew full well that most women seeking Rachel’s advice had more urgent problems than my own: marital woes, problems with kids, financial pressure, or spiritual crises. Frankly, I was embarrassed to present her with my “first-world” kvetch, but Rachel greeted me with a smile that felt like a hug. Leaning slightly forward in her chair as I spoke, her kind and empathetic eyes never left mine. It felt safe to unburden myself, and I even began to cry. 

I told her how much I loved the writing I did for Jewish media outlets, and the value I believed I brought to topics and issues from a Jewish perspective. But I also groused about my growing frustration with the publishing industry, its bias against religious tradition, and its outright promotion of militantly secular ideas. This clear trend was making it harder for me to sell my writing in secular outlets, where I felt they were needed. Rachel’s frequent nods and caring expression told me that I had come to the right address for handholding. Finally, she asked, “Tell me, Judy, where is the blessing coming from now in your work?”

I was stunned by the question, one that no marketing expert had ever asked. 

“The blessing is coming from my work in Jewish media,” I replied immediately. It was a no-brainer. My uphill fight to “make it” in secular media contrasted starkly with my blessings working with select Jewish media outlets (including The Jewish Journal), where I recognized that I had an impact. I had welcoming editors who provided great freedom about what I wrote about and an impressive platform for my work. It would have been churlish of me to deny that my steady publishing credits were adding to my name recognition. For me, writing was as elemental as breathing, and the Jewish outlets consistently allowed me to create in the way I was meant to create. 

Rachel’s surprising, incisive question reframed my ongoing inner dialogue about what truly defined success. As I had really known for a long time, for me “success” would never be measured only in book sales or secular publishing credits, but in the impact I could have through conversations about life and laughter, all through a Jewish lens.

Judy Gruen’s latest book is “The Skeptic and the Rabbi: Falling in Love With Faith.”