Don’t fall apart, life beckons!

I cannot tell you how many people have reached out recently to say that their lives are “falling apart” or that their mental health is “at breaking point”. It’s devastating. People are taking huge strain.

My argument isn’t that things are okay. They’re often not. Rather, it’s this: the way we see life is one of the greatest determinants of how we live life. Someone with a grounded, elevated perspective is far more likely to ride the waves than someone with shallow, rigid expectations.

Let me be honest, I don’t – nor does anyone else – have the ultimate answers. Life is too layered, too unpredictable, too messy for neat little slogans or one-size-fits-all fixes.

And yet, there are nuggets of wisdom. Things picked up along the road that help us reorient, help us find our north star when everything feels dark. In times like these, we need perspective just as much as we need companionship. So let’s offer some.

But first, two caveats:

1. Some people’s lives are objectively harder than others. That cliché – “everyone has their own pekel [small parcel]” – may be well-meaning, but it’s often patronising. Not all pain is equal. Losing a child; battling mental illness; enduring chronic poverty; illness; or abuse, those aren’t in the same category as, say, getting a scratch on your Lexus.

Even if subjectively the pain feels the same to the catastrophiser, objectively it’s not. My toddler might weep like her world ended when someone takes her toy. But the four-year-old running to a bomb shelter in Israel? That’s trauma.

Telling someone going through hell that “everyone has it hard” may feel like comfort, but it’s not. It’s minimisation. And it hurts.

2. “According to the camel is the load” is true, but timing matters. Judaism teaches that we are given only what we can bear. But that doesn’t mean that it’s your job to say it out loud. Timing matters. Delivery matters. Sometimes, even truth needs to wait for the right moment – and the right person – to say it.

Someone in the middle of deep pain often isn’t looking for theology. They want to be seen. Not fixed. Not taught. Just seen. So let’s not throw “G-d doesn’t give you what you can’t handle” at them unless they ask for that kind of framing. It might be true. But truth without sensitivity is rarely helpful.

Let’s explore five thoughts on the hard days.

A hard life is still worth living – and celebrating

One of the most damaging myths ever to creep into the human psyche is that only an easy life is a good life. It’s false. Always has been. Most of the eight billion people alive today, and most who came before us, live hard lives. Struggle is the default setting, not the exception. If ease were the point, then almost none of us would ever fulfil the point of life.

More importantly, if the goal was to chill and coast, then what are we even doing here? Heaven would be better. Our souls were at peace in heaven, and will be again. But we were sent to earth for a reason. And that reason is growth, courage, truth. Not ease.

Our light often shines through the cracks. From pain. From mess. From heartbreak. That’s where character is formed. That’s where meaning is found.

A hard life isn’t a wasted life. It’s often the most meaningful kind.

This too shall pass

I cannot repeat this enough: you won’t feel like this forever. The heaviness, the confusion, the sense that everything is unravelling – they’re real, but they aren’t permanent. Life shifts. Circumstances change. You change. What feels endless today will soften over time. Every storm moves on. Every tunnel has an end. What’s overwhelming now will one day be something you understand differently, maybe even something that grew you in ways nothing else could.

More than that: hardship doesn’t just pass. It shapes. It births. Some of the deepest light you’ll ever bring into this world comes not in spite of your struggle, but through it. Challenge isn’t a detour from your purpose, it’s often the very process that reveals it. Pain isn’t pointless. It’s the birth canal through which clarity, compassion, and inner strength are delivered.

And while the hard times will pass, that light – the one born in the struggle – will stay.

People are counting on you

Having people count on you means that your life matters in ways that go far beyond your own private world. You can draw deep strength from knowing that you’re not just living for yourself. Your presence, your choices, your resilience – they affect others, whether they say it out loud or not.

We mean more to the people around us than we realise. Even if they don’t always express it, our existence holds weight. The moment we step into a relationship – whether as a spouse, a parent, a sibling, a friend, or even an employer – we take on a kind of responsibility. Our decisions ripple outward. Our stability becomes part of the scaffolding that holds up others.

And that’s why, even when we feel like collapsing, there are times we simply have to dig deep, steady ourselves, and carry on. Not because we feel strong, but because someone, somewhere, is standing because we haven’t fallen.

Don’t make decisions when you are emotional

Life hack: don’t make big decisions when your emotions are louder than your logic. Emotions are great, they make us human. But they aren’t moral. They’re reactive, subjective, and self-focused.

Important decisions need to come from a place of clarity, not chaos. They need to be grounded in thoughtful analysis and moral perspective. Otherwise, we risk making choices that feel right in the moment but unravel everything later. We bugger up our lives – pardon my French – not because we’re evil, but because we confuse what feels good with what is good. And those two aren’t the same.

So ,yes, maybe you feel like you’re falling apart. But now isn’t the time to get divorced, move cities, marry someone, quit your job, or have a baby. Let the storm pass. Gather yourself. Then make the call. Wisdom and emotional overwhelm don’t work well together. They were never meant to share the wheel.

Feel, but don’t stay there

There’s nothing wrong with emotions. They make us human. Without them, we’re just robots. Emotions give flavour and colour to life. They deepen our experiences, and connect us to others. So give them their space. Cry. Punch your pillow. Sob. Laugh. Eat a tub of ice cream when the self-pity swells.

But then, get back up.

Emotions are a petrol stop on the road of life, not the destination. They’re a necessary pause, a moment to refuel. But every good petrol stop must end, because the journey is waiting. You won’t get to Ballito by sitting at the Engen eating chips.

Life must go on. Nothing should be allowed to get in the way of that. Yes, we sit shiva when we lose someone. But shiva ends. We stand. We walk forward. Our hearts may still be sore, but our eyes must burn with the fire to keep living.

That’s the only way.

• Rabbi Levi Avtzon is the rabbi at Linksfield Shul.