Seems obvious, right? I mean, if it's not broken, then how can you possibly fix it? In fact, why would you even want to fix it?
Each week, I get Torah Wellsprings filled with divrei Torah on the parsha from R' Biderman. I just started to read this week's edition on parshas Mishpatim. It starts with a mashal:A man goes to a watchmaker and asks him, "Can you please fix the hands on my watch? They aren't moving." The watchmaker answers in the affirmative and asks for the watch. The man replies, more than a little surprised, "The watch? I left that at home. I brought you the hands. They are not moving and I need you to fix them."
There is much more in the Torah Wellsprings, but I stopped there. How many times have I thought I knew what needed fixing and just focused my attention on that. How many times have I actually done more damage by trying to fix the obvious problem that is right in front of me?
I once asked R' Dovid Siegel a question just to understand the simple meaning of the gemara in Gittin that we are allowed to learn on Tisha b'Av. In fact, it was Tisha b'Av. Before he would answer my question, he sat down (it was the afternoon) and reviewed the entire gemara. It was only after R' Siegel reviewed the entire sugya that he answered me. I don't remember the question -- it was not quite, "what does this word mean", but it wasn't much more than that -- but I do remember how I felt. First I felt frustrated that R' Siegel wouldn't even just answer a simple question. Second, I realized from the answer that it clearly was dependent on the context of that gemara. Third, I realized that R' Siegel's superficial explanation of the gemara (it was Tisha b'Av, after all) had already thrown me into depths of learning which were probably forbidden to me on Tisha b'Av.
In any case, my take away from this week's Torah Wellsprings is to ask myself whenever I get frustrated if I am trying to fix the hands while ignoring the watch.
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