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Be a Verb, Not a Noun
“I can’t do it! I am __________!”
How many times have we heard this complaint from children, and indeed from adults? How many times have we said it ourselves? This protest sounds reasonable, but it limits us in extremely dangerous ways.
The question often defines the answer. Worst of all is, “Who am I to do this?”, implying that the task should fall to someone else. “Can I do this?” is better, but it still admits to the possibility of failure. The formulation I prefer – and which I ask everyone on my team to use as a default – is: “How do I do this?” If we are always looking for answers, we are much more likely to make progress.
The difference comes down to whether a person thinks of themselves as a verb or a noun: are we defined by what we do, or are we defined by what we are? I submit that this issue is at the very heart of the differences between successful individuals, cultures and nations, and those who merely tick the boxes, the quiet billions who live their lives, exist within the boundaries of their nature and nurture, and leave this earth without making much of an impact either way.
It starts with the mind, and with childhood. Of all the bullying by students and categorization by teachers and well-intentioned adults, the most dangerous are the labels that become the excuse for inaction and for the status quo: “I am stupid” is the most obvious, but even simple adjectives describing body type or physical limitations are enough to sap ambition. Everyone remembers that offhand remark from a peer or teacher or parent – the statement about one’s limitations, of not being smart enough or attractive enough. These sorts of statements, which often are classified as loshon horah, “evil speech” in Judaism, inject a slow but crippling poison in the ears of the listeners. We are forbidden from speaking about other people in this way, because such speech constrains what the listeners themselves believe they are capable of achieving.
We are even forbidden to say them about ourselves! When tasked by G-d to approach Pharaoh, Moshe claims that he cannot do it because of some speech impediment. G-d replies: ‘Who hath made man’s mouth? Or who maketh a man dumb, or deaf, or seeing, or blind? Is it not I the LORD?” (Ex. 4:11) but Moshe will not budge. Once a man has it in his head that he is not capable of something, even G-d Almighty, in a direct confrontation, cannot change his mind! Our own self-perception is often our greatest enemy. In this case, G-d loses the argument, because he gives in, and Aharon is tasked with the speaking role.
The Torah tells us that the world itself is, indeed, a thing, a noun. We are to accept it, and use it. When we make an altar, we are not supposed to use tools on it, to not contaminate it with our own action, but to keep it as basic and unimproved as a heap of ground or stones can be. The ground that we use for an altar should represent all ground, to be a thing in itself. A sacrifice has the explicit goal of connecting heaven and earth – both are things, nouns.
But the human addition to the altar is forbidden to be our physical substance: our part is one of action. G-d tells the Jewish people that the altar should have a ramp, not steps, so that “you should not expose your nakedness,” suggesting that climbing steps requires more separation between the legs (Ex. 20:23).
Mankind’s role in holiness is not to contribute our own bodies, not to add our own physicality: we are not the sacrificial animal. Our role is to be the catalyst, the kinetic force that brings the nouns together. And when we do this, we have to make our entire bodies into verbs – climbing a ramp requires us to bow, engaging our entire bodies; when we climb steps, our upper bodies can remain erect and distinct from our legs. To create holiness, we have to be the motive force, while the earth and heaven are the static bodies that are connected through us.
The lesson is clear enough: when we define ourselves by our physical attributes, then we are limiting who we are. The Torah almost never tells us of a person’s physical appearances unless it is something that the person themselves thinks makes them limited in some way (such as Moshe’s speech impediment). Our lives are supposed to be lived and defined by what we choose to do, not by how we are born or raised, or even how others define us. While we live, we are supposed to be verbs, not nouns. There will be plenty of time to be a mere hunk of matter when we are six feet under.
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Great post, iWe.
When my kids were little, profanity was strictly off limits. Not because I’ve got a problem with profanity (heck, I’ve got a black belt in profanity), but because they need to be able to speak profanity-free in most professional environments. Too, many use profanity reflexively or inartfully, when it should be used to educate, illuminate or entertain.
As they got older, they learned that they could slip in a profane word every now and again without recrimination if they made their statement funny or unique.
However, there was one word, the worst, that would never fail to prompt a strong negative reaction from me, and they knew it.
“Can’t.”
Man as verb, not a noun, is the source of accountability. Man as noun disconnected from verb is not responsible for his condition or status. We are accountable for what we do, what we have become as a result of our actions. And if we do nothing — “sit” is a verb, too — we are accountable for that as well.
This just made me laugh. Love it.
I can account quite creditably for this.
Great post, iWe. I spent a lot of my life making excuses, not for everything, but for those things I didn’t want to do or take responsibility for. It’s so easy, too, to blame our siblings, our parents, our bosses, even our friends, for the things we won’t do. I can’t tell you how many times in my consulting work that people would say they wouldn’t take action because they feared retribution; they had never seen the other person take retribution, but you never know! It’s still easy for me to blame all kinds of situations for my lack of action, but I notice more often when I do it–and I know it’s a choice. I just can’t fool myself anymore!
Can’t can be a problem for other reasons too. If you’re a bit if a sucker, like me, you will tend to use the word can’t when you just don’t want to do something. Of course, then you get stuck with people trying to help you to deal with the can’t, because they heard it as, I’d love to, but I have this problem.
My very first American friend stopped me in my tracks when I was trying to get out of helping her with something. She told me that won’t is as good as can’t. What a revelation to the person who had always ended up doing all her sibling’s chores because she couldn’t figure out how or why to say no.
It’s never easy for me, but I make a point to decline any unwanted requests with a straightforward, No, I don’t want to do that, but thanks for thinking of me.
I have always tried to be very clear with my children about the difference between when I was telling them to do something and when I was asking them if they would do something.
Of course my first child only ever spoke in the imperative. Clearly a born leader.
Whenever I said “Can’t” my grandmother laid into me with, “Can’t never did anything so you get busy with can.”
Definitely learned “verbalism” – at least in the life of mind/heart/spirit – very early on…The physical began much later – and is still being redefined in the interface shared by imagination, self-definition, and action. Hashem is a verb, no? So we, made in His image and likeness, at minimum, aspire to be so, yes? Thanks, as ever, dear friend!
“Dammit Jim I’m a doctor, not a brick layer!”
Can I be a conjunction?
If it’s not too late to sign up now, can I be a rough breathing mark in Greek? Or maybe an Elvish participle?
I wonder what Rachel Dolezal is.
Good question – and Hello to you, @israelp! Lovely to see you!
I know you’re a stickler for language so sorry. Badass is a verb, adverb, noun, qualifier and overall wonderful word. I use it every which way.
What’s your function?
The Dude abides.
“Confused.” A verb.
Uh-uh. That’s an adjective, Percy. Or a predicate adjective. Where’s my grammar teacher when I need her??!!
Can be a verb AND a noun. Should be a verb and a noun. If you define yourself only through your actions, the next action will always take precedence in your self-image over your past actions. That’s how mafia people get a clear conscience by going to confession and giving to charity and kissing their children goodnight. But they are killers and/or cheats, which are nouns.
I swear I think we are related. My grandmother told us the same thing.
May I fill in the blank? Be a verb, or merely become a tool.
Was your grandma raised in the Ozarks? My grandparents had a self sustaining farm, with 6 acres under cultivation, with cows, pig, chickens, fruit trees, and both my brother and I earned our keep and then some. My “can’ts” usually involved my feelings of being overworked. My granny was not impressed and her “cans” prevailed.
Yes, one of my old philosophy profs said we should think of G-d as a participle.
I don’t know a word of Hebrew, but harmony of being and doing–like the use of the word “abide” above–does seem to me to work well for New Testament Greek. I don’t know the New Testament Greek text all that well, but from what I do know (mostly from John) there are phrases like “being from G-d” and “do the truth” and “abide in Him” that seem to individually or collectively encompass being and doing.
The problem with too much Existentialism–the reverse of the problem with fatalism.
Habits and character matter; they are shaped by actions, and for acting. “Be ye perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect;” perfect is teleioo, I think. The Septuagint use is more important, and I haven’t looked into it. But it is Greek, and the Aristotelian use is still there–and it’s an active thing in Aristotle.
(Not that Aristotle determines the meaning of the New Testament–any more than Shakespeare wrote the Constitution. But he was one of those who shaped the meaning of the words it was written in–as Shakespeare shaped the meaning of the words the Constitution was written in.)
Augustine, we have sparred on this before. I see Judaism as being focused solely on doing – we don’t spend much time discussing whether or not, for example, we are all sinners. Christianity often starts with this assertion.
Jewish practicality tends to focus on what we do next – because there is nothing we can do to change the past.
Not Ozarks, but country nonetheless. I think it’s just a farm thing.
You are probably right, if we didn’t get things done on the farm during growing season, there was a good chance we would not have much to eat during the winter.
Yet there is something to do about the past, with which the Tanakh is full: Repent and seek G-d’s mercy for it.
The Day of Atonement would seem to engage that need, no? I try to use @iwe‘s lenses when reflecting on his meditations; then, see where we might find common ground. (Though I know he enjoys a good theological tussle as much as anyone, too…).