A quick AI summary of imposter syndrome describes it as follows: “A psychological experience involving internalized self-doubt and the fear of being exposed as a ‘fraud,’ despite evidence of competence or high achievement….”
Many of us ask ourselves, after accomplishing something great, whether it really happened to us. Take golf, for example: If someone hits a hole-in-one, chances are that it was not purely their skill that accomplished this, but also luck. As a result, they can feel like an imposter. True, they play golf, but they know that, in truth, they are not that good.
In Judaism, we can experience this from a spiritual view. We fulfill a mitzvah, or even a Jewish custom, but even as we do it, we might not feel connected. The holiness that we are hoping to feel is simply not there. Therefore, we ask ourselves: If that is the case, then why are we doing it?
In this week’s Torah portion, Beshalach, we learn about the manna that fell from heaven each day, except on Shabbat. For Jews to have food to eat on Shabbat, a double portion fell on Friday. Today, we remember this event by having two loaves of challah on the table at each Shabbat meal, on Friday evening and Shabbat day. Since Shabbat is a holy day and we want to embrace this sanctity, there is a third meal as well.
There is a Jewish custom that on Saturday night, we have another meal to say “goodbye” to this holy day. The traditional name for this meal is Melaveh Malka, translated to “escorting the Queen,” bidding farewell to the departing Shabbat Queen. Although it is not recorded anywhere in the Torah that the Jews ate this meal while in the desert, chances are that they did have dinner on Saturday night.
What did they eat? The leftovers of the day, the manna that came from heaven for Shabbat. However, when Shabbat was over and the sanctity of the day was gone, how could they eat sanctified food?
Today, we too, ask the same question. Why are we eating a meal after Shabbat is over if the holiness of the day is gone?
We can feel like we are trying to bring holiness into a time that is not holy—this meal can feel like a sham. Fake.
Here is another perspective. True, the sanctity of Shabbat is over. However, the blessings that Shabbat bring into our workweek have just begun.
It is easy for us to want to bask in holiness and purity, asking ourselves: Do we really deserve the praise that we are getting? Did we really earn it? This is when we can feel like an imposter. However, if we reframe our perspective from being “worthy” to being blessed, then even if we feel that we don’t deserve the praise, and we can feel like a fraud because it was unearned, we should instead look at the blessings that infuse our lives.
A blessing is not earned; it is given. When we receive it, we should embrace it. And be thankful.
May this week be a week of many blessings.
Shabbat Shalom
