Transcript
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All right, before we get into today's
video, I need 30 seconds of your life.
This video is brought to you by the
Aaliyah Fund, the people behind a night
sata program that's more packed at 10
p.m. than a bakery on Moz Pesak. We're
talking real growth, real hashem, real
garbasa.
But here's why I actually stopped you.
They're running the poor imaffle. Pim as
in gorill as in raffle. And this isn't a
win a little sourdough starter kit kind
of raffle. This is a win a brand new car
type of raffle or a Rolex or $25,000 in
cash. One ticket, one shot for as little
as $1. Every ticket helps put more
people in Nightser, more people
learning, more people growing. Your
ticket is literally turning into Tyra.
So go ahead, click on the link below. Go
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today. Welcome to the safari.
I think almost everybody has the exact
same reaction when they come to a safari
or a zoo. You look at the animals and
you say, "Ah, they're so cute. They're
so majestic." But I kind of feel bad for
them. I mean, look at them. They eat the
same grass every day. They sleep in the
same place every day. Look at the same
scenery day after day, year after year.
Meanwhile, we get to go back to our
exciting lives and we travel and we open
businesses and we make money and we try
out the new restaurants that just open,
we have freedom, they have such a boring
life. But what if I told you that while
we're looking at the animals with pity,
the animals are looking at us and
they're the ones saying, "No, look at
those poor humans. Look how hard they
have to work just to be happy. They have
to go on these complicated vacations and
get all sorts of silly cars and buy all
sorts of new overpriced clothing and
chase a promotion, a bigger house, a
better view, another country, another
thrill, another distraction just for
them to get the feeling that I get after
a nice meal of grass. Me, I wake up at
the same sunrise every morning. I eat
the same grass. I drink from the same
river. I sleep under the same sky. And
every single day, I'm happy. I'm
content. I'm exactly where Hashem wants
me to be. And for that I'm happy cuz
that's all I need. And here's the point.
Kazal tell us that every single creature
sings Shira to Hashem. Every bird, every
animal, every parrot, every emu, every
lizard has their Shira that they sing to
Hashem. Every part of creation has its
own song that they sing. Each creature
fulfills his role on earth and sings to
Hashem their thanks. And maybe that's
the question the animals are asking us
as we drive past them in our safari
jeep. They think, "Hey, human, you're
busy feeling bad for me, but I just
finished singing my daily Shira to
Hashem. How's your Shira coming along?"
And maybe the animals are right. Maybe
that's a question we ought to ask
ourselves a little more often. Because
isn't it interesting how we spend so
much of our lives driving around our
little own safari jeeps and how we
easily pity certain people? You know,
the ones living the quiet, simple,
unglamorous lives. And sometimes we say,
"Ah, Nebuch, look at that tiny house.
He's only a rebby. She teaches
kindergarten. They're still driving that
same car. They have the same small
salary, same crowded neighborhood. They
never moved out. Same simple meals, same
slightly socially off guests that they
host. She still wears that dress. He
still wears that tie. No glamorous
career. No luxury vacations. No men's
trips to Hungary with the boys. Nothing
about their life would we ever describe
as exciting. And somewhere along the
safari route of life, we start telling
ourselves they're the ones missing out.
But maybe, just maybe, it's the other
way around. Maybe while we're sprinting
from one distraction to the next, from
one purchase to the next, from one new
restaurant in the city to the next, from
one trend to the next, from one thrill,
from one busy thing to the next, they're
singing and building a family of
holiness. Busy developing Talmid and
Talmides, busy learning Tyra, busy
doing, bus, busy living a life whose
soundtrack is a song to Hashem instead
of the endless noise of wanting more.
Maybe they're still in that house
driving that same car, eating the same
food. Because like the animals, they
realize that a successful life isn't
measured by how exciting it looks from a
safari jeep. A successful life is
measured by how much of it becomes a
Shira. All the animals on Earth know
exactly why they were created. The only
creature that gets occasionally confused
about its purpose in life is us. Maybe
the next time you go to a safari, don't
just look at the animals. Look at
yourself and ask, "Everything around me
is singing its Shira to Hashem. Am I