I was once told (at a back yard BBQ with Israeli neighbors) that Arabic is the best language for poetry. Why? Because is has so many adjectives and so many fine distinctions/shades of meaning can be expressed. For example, my neighbor told me, the word that then "president" of the PLO was using for "peace" really meant, "I don't think I can beat you right now, so I'd like us to agree not to fight." Seems to me that Arabic would also be a wonderful language for marketing and statesmanship. That is, an excellent choice for avoiding saying what you mean in order to gain an advantage.
Hebrew (classic Hebrew, anyway) also has ways to express many shades of meaning and intent, though they are all meant to make that meaning and intent as clear as possible. Google gives the following translations of לְהַפְקִיר: abandon, give up, forsake, forfeit. I respectfully disagree. My issue is that those English words are all associated with feelings of being passive/I have no choice. The Hebrew verb לְהַפְקִיר, though, is in the grammatical state that means "causing to happen"; nothing passive about it at all. לְהַפְקִיר means to actively cause an object to be ownerless. Hebrew has another word that is associated with loss of ownership: יֵאוּשׁ , which Google translates as despair, desperation, despondency, dejection. That's more like it. The construct of the verb itself is in a passive state. יֵאוּשׁ is usually used when an object is stolen or lost. The owner has really given up hope of being able to recover his item.
There is halachic difference, in fact, between using these two expressions when an object is lost. If one is מפקיר his item, then he has lost all attachment to it. If the object would later be found, he would have no more claim to it than anyone else. If, on the other hand, he were מייאש and then the object was later recovered, his original ownership would be re-asserted. That is, with יֵאוּשׁ there is still a lingering attachment.
I would like to suggest that appreciating and processing this seemingly obscure halachic point and grammatical detail can make a significant difference in one's avodas HaShem and even his life. When I am מפקיר something, I am in charge and an active participant; I am doing. When I am מייאש, I am passively letting stuff happen to me; the English word "despair" is a perfect translation. There are those who suggest that the mistake of Adam haRishon can be traced to this approach. HaShem told Adam to work the garden and to eat from all but one of the fruits. That single forbidden fruit was to give Adam the ability to express and exercise his free will; to actively choose to express his appreciation to HaShem by giving up -- being מפקיר -- one desire. Adam heard only that one fruit was forbidden to him, which he then transformed into the only fruit he wanted, and so his entire world grudging resignation to the fact that he couldn't have the one thing he wanted; he was מייאש.
When you are מפקיר, you remove your dependency on something over which you have no control; thereby taking active control of your life. When you are מייאש, you have passively resigned yourself to be manipulated by forces over which you have no control. Passive resignation/despair or active acceptance/freedom; your choice.
Hebrew (classic Hebrew, anyway) also has ways to express many shades of meaning and intent, though they are all meant to make that meaning and intent as clear as possible. Google gives the following translations of לְהַפְקִיר: abandon, give up, forsake, forfeit. I respectfully disagree. My issue is that those English words are all associated with feelings of being passive/I have no choice. The Hebrew verb לְהַפְקִיר, though, is in the grammatical state that means "causing
There is halachic difference, in fact, between using these two expressions when an object is lost. If one is מפקיר his item, then he has lost all attachment to it. If the object would later be found, he would have no more claim to it than anyone else. If, on the other hand, he were מייאש and then the object was later recovered, his original ownership would be re-asserted. That is, with יֵאוּשׁ there is still a lingering attachment.
I would like to suggest that appreciating and processing this seemingly obscure halachic point and grammatical detail can make a significant difference in one's avodas HaShem and even his life. When I am מפקיר something, I am in charge and an active participant; I am doing. When I am מייאש, I am passively letting stuff happen to me; the English word "despair" is a perfect translation. There are those who suggest that the mistake of Adam haRishon can be traced to this approach. HaShem told Adam to work the garden and to eat from all but one of the fruits. That single forbidden fruit was to give Adam the ability to express and exercise his free will; to actively choose to express his appreciation to HaShem by giving up -- being מפקיר -- one desire. Adam heard only that one fruit was forbidden to him, which he then transformed into the only fruit he wanted, and so his entire world grudging resignation to the fact that he couldn't have the one thing he wanted; he was מייאש.
When you are מפקיר, you remove your dependency on something over which you have no control; thereby taking active control of your life. When you are מייאש, you have passively resigned yourself to be manipulated by forces over which you have no control. Passive resignation/despair or active acceptance/freedom; your choice.
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