Don’t run—shine

Ever feel like life is just too much sometimes?

Work is stressful. Bills pile up. Relationships can be complicated. The news is overwhelming. And even when things are fine on the outside, there’s this inner voice that says, “I just need a break.” Sometimes we daydream about quitting it all, moving to a quiet place in the mountains, raising goats, and not checking our phones ever again.

It’s a totally normal feeling. We crave peace. Simplicity. A life that feels more spiritual, less noisy.

Interestingly enough, that’s exactly what happens in this week’s Torah portion.

Two of the twelve tribes, Reuven and Gad, come to Moses with a request. They’d just reached the edge of the Land of Israel, and instead of crossing over with everyone else, they ask to settle on the outside. Why? Because the land there was perfect for their cattle. Open fields, good grazing land. For shepherds, it was ideal. A quiet life, away from the chaos.

At first glance, it seems innocent enough. But Jewish tradition has mixed feelings about their decision.

Some praise them: “Look at these guys,” says one interpretation, “They didn’t chase money or power. They just wanted honest, peaceful work.” But others are more critical: “They cared too much about their stuff. And because they chose to live apart from everyone else, they were the first tribes to be exiled years later.”

Chassidic teachings dig deeper. They explain that Reuven and Gad weren’t just looking for good real estate, they had spiritual motives. They genuinely believed that by living far from cities and distractions, they could stay more connected to G-d. In the quiet of nature, surrounded by their flocks, they felt they could live a purer life.

And yet, the Torah still challenges them.

Because Judaism doesn’t encourage us to escape the world. It calls on us to engage with it—and elevate it. Yes, life is noisy and complicated. But we’re not here to hide from that. We’re here to bring light into that.

You don’t have to be somewhere quiet to be spiritual. It’s something you create in your kitchen, your office, your relationships. It’s in lighting Shabbat candles at the end of a long week, putting a mezuzah on your door, or saying a blessing before you eat. It’s how you speak to your spouse, how you show up for a friend, how you run your business, how you treat a stranger. That’s where the sparks of G-dliness are hiding—not in the retreat from life, but right in the middle of it.

So when Moses responds to Reuven and Gad, he doesn’t say “no.” But he does challenge them. He basically says: “If you want this—fine. But first, join the rest of the people in conquering the land. Fight alongside them. Be part of the mission. Then you can come back and settle here.” In other words: Don’t opt out. Step up.

This lesson hits home today.

It’s so tempting to unplug from everything that feels hard or overwhelming. And honestly, sometimes we need to. But long-term, Judaism asks more of us. You don’t need to run away to find peace. You can find meaning right here, in your real life.

Even the earlier section of the Torah portion that talks about vows—where people promise to avoid certain things for spiritual reasons—ends with the idea that a wise person can actually cancel that vow. Why? Because true wisdom means knowing how to stay in the world without being swallowed by it.

We don’t have to be angels. We’re not supposed to be. We’re meant to be human—flawed, busy, grounded—and still capable of doing something holy.

So if you’ve been feeling like the spiritual stuff is out of reach, or like you’re “not religious enough,” maybe just flip the lens. You don’t need to escape to be spiritual. Just bring a little more intention into the life you already live. Light a candle before Shabbat. Put a coin in a tzedakah box. Say the Shema before bed. Share a Jewish holiday with friends, or just pause to say a blessing over your morning coffee. Be kind. Be honest. Show up for someone. Do something Jewish—even if it's small.

Don’t run. Don’t hide. You have everything it takes to bring light right where you are.