Who is Amalek inside us and what can we learn from the story of Purim about how to approach this inner force?
Who Is Amalek Inside Us?
Amalek has the same gematria (numerical value of the Hebrew letters) as safek, doubt. We were riding high, feeling triumphant in coming out of Egypt, and Amalek came and sowed doubt, self doubt about our ability to proceed. The Torah uses the word karkha (Deuteronomy 25:18) to describe this encounter, and the rabbis connect this word, which literally means “happened to you,” to the word kar, “cold” (see Rashi). We were all hot with passion and confidence, and Amalek cooled us down, dampened our enthusiasm, made us doubt ourselves and our ability to move forward. Refidim, the place where the Amalekites attacked (Exodus 17:8), is also associated with this sense of weakening, refayon yadayim, “a weakening of hands.” Our encounter with Amalek sapped our strength.
We all have Amalek parts inside us, parts that, at times, attack us mercilessly and criticize us, causing us to doubt ourselves, to chill our enthusiasm for whatever project our soul wants to engage in, and to rob us of our strength and resolve. We become deflated, small and unsure.
Amalek attacked the weak from behind when we were tired and hungry. This is what happens internally, too. It is precisely when we are exhausted or hangry, that the internal critic is often the strongest inside us. And the parts of us that get attacked are inevitably the weakest, most vulnerable ones, the parts of us that already feel insecure and needy.
The first thing we need to do is to become aware of the fact of an attack. It is often going on just under the surface, in the background of our minds, a negative chatter as we go through our lives: “You’re so stupid. Why did you do it that way? You’re not getting it right. You always do things wrong . . . “ We can tune in to its commentary without getting too absorbed in the content, just noticing the viciousness of it, the sense of self aggression and self hatred.
A Matter of Life and Death For Your Soul
The danger is one of annihilation. As with Amalek, inside of us, it is also, on some level, a question of life or death, the life or death of our soul, our essence, our ability to fully come alive. The forces of Amalek are trying to make us cower, like Haman trying to get Mordecai to bow down, to bow low, to shut down and to hide who we really are, like Esther who hides her identity and whose very name means hiddenness. She is the soul inside us, in the inner chambers of our palace. How will she get to come out and be alive and flower amidst all this battering noise? Our soul is currently wearing sackcloth and ashes, like Mordecai, collapsed in grief over its loss. How do we retrieve it?
Responding With Fierceness: Standing Up For Ourselves
The megillah teaches us how to overcome such attacks. The lesson it teaches is one of fierceness, and in this way, is not our usual message of compassion. Softening and welcoming will come later, but the story shows us that there are times we need to meet such attacks with force and courage and power, like a warrior, the power to awaken in ourselves the knowledge of our own essential strength and inherent value, the power to stand up for ourselves and reclaim our vitality and full life force.
Here is the key to the turn of events in the story – the king grants permission for the Jews to defend themselves. He doesn’t turn around the decree. He doesn’t defend them himself. He gives permission for them to defend themselves. This is very important. We are granted permission from the King of Kings to stand up for ourselves in such attacks. I would say we are not just granted permission, but encouraged, supported, commanded, even, to redeem our own value, our own buried life force.
And it must be done by us, by each one of us. No one else can do it for you, can stand up to your inner critic for you. You have to reclaim your own strength yourself, with fierceness.
Esther as a Model
Esther is a model of this movement. She has the courage to move out of hiding, to say who she really is, to speak her truth to power, to take up space even when she is not sure it is appropriate, where she has not been invited, to take up space anyway, to ask for what she needs, to speak her mind. This is a coming into power for her, a movement out of hiding into the world, a reclaiming of her agency and autonomy. It is a feminist move because this is a feminist issue for both men and women, not to be subdued or shut down or minimized or hidden, not to lose one’s voice in the course of socialization, but to be able to stand before the king, uninvited, and say your piece.
It may take a few times, as it did with Esther, but after a while, we can learn to point, as Esther did to Haman, and say – You! No! You are trying to kill me and I won’t let you! We can turn to our own inner critic or maybe even to whoever was behind the inner critic in our external world – maybe there is someone specific from your past or present you need to say this to – we can turn to them, with a new fierceness around the clarity of our right, nay obligation, to stand up for ourselves, turn to the critics and naysayers and all those who shut us down, look them in the eye and say – No! Stop! Enough! I don’t deserve this. This is who I am and I have a right to exist. I will not abandon myself to your attacks any longer.
The megillah describes what the Jews did in defending themselves as amdu al nafsham, they stood up for their lives, they stood up for their nefesh, for their souls. That is what we are doing when we face the Amalek inside us with fierceness. We are standing up for our souls.
Reclaiming Our Strength and Agency
What we discover is that, when we do that, when we stand up for ourselves and say no to the attackers and to the gnawing self doubt, what happens is that we are reclaiming our own energy, the energy hijacked by the inner critic. When we say no outwardly in this way, we are at the same time saying yes to ourselves, a giant yes to our essence, to the Esther that has been hiding deep within us, a call for her to come out now, after all those years of inhibition and hiding. Yes, you can take up space. Stretch your legs and try out your voice, move around and jump and skip and shout. Now you can proceed with your work, uninhibited. Later in the Megillah, it is Esther who writes letters and it is Esther whose word is listened to. We are taking back our authority and agency to have an impact on the world and proceed with our soul’s projects with full energy and passion.
Reclaiming our Value
The process is one of reclaiming not just our strength and energy, but also our inherent value. The word for value in Hebrew is yakar, a word that comes up a lot in the Megillah. Haman leads Mordecai through the streets, calling: kakhah ye’aseh la’ish asher hamelekh chafetz biykaro (Esther 6:11). Thus shall be done to the person whom the king desires to value or honor, yikaro, that same word. Whom does the King of Kings desire to honor and value? Each one of us. Each one of us can reclaim this sense of royalty, of having the infinite value of a divinely created being, one worthy of being led through the streets in royal finery. Imagine yourself first in the sackcloth and ashes from the time of being brought low by self attack, and then take off those rags and put on the finest clothes you can imagine – the megillah reports – “Mordecai left the king’s presence in royal robes of blue and white, with a magnificent crown of gold and a mantle of fine linen and purple wool (Esther 8:15).” We each leave the king of King’s presence dressed in such finery. These clothes reflect who you really are in God’s eyes – a person of royalty and infinite inherent value. Yakar, dear in value.
Joy
Layehudim hayta orah vesimchah vesason veyikar. The Jews had light and joy and happiness and honor. When we stand up for ourselves and reclaim our strength, joy comes, the joy of being alive and fully ourselves, the joy of knowing our own value, who we really are.
Inviting Amalek Back In
And in the celebration, once we are in our full strength again, we can invite back into the party even the critic, even the attacking parts, even, in some future peaceful world, Amalek, an Amalek who has been erased from being Amalek and is now some softer, friendlier version, no longer in the attack, but a force for good in our system, a discerning force that supports us and coaches us rather than bringing us down. In the final celebration, on Purim day, the Purim day of today and of the world to come, we take ourselves to a place of ad delo yada, of not knowing, not being able to distinguish between Haman and Mordecai. Both are at the party, both inside us, both welcome without distinction.
Maybe you are not ready to do this yet, and that is fine. The work of reclaiming our strength comes first and does involve some aggression, some force. But if you do feel ready, if there is enough strength now inside you also to hold and welcome the critical, attacking parts of you, maybe let them in the door without their weapons. Let them all come in, without distinction, to the party of joy, to the party of wholeness and inherent value where all are welcome, where, instead of attacks, gifts are given one to another, mishloach manot ish lere’ehu.
Happy Purim!
Photo by Tima Miroshnichenko at Pexels
