October 22, 2026
Not to Suppress, but to Learn to Master
There is a well-known story about Alexander the Great. When he was still a youth, no one could tame a wild horse named Bucephalus. The horse was so headstrong that even experienced riders could not handle him. But Alexander managed to break him in. Seeing this, his father, King Philip, said: “My son, seek out a kingdom worthy of yourself, for Macedonia is too small for you.”
This story contains an interesting idea that resonates strongly with the Jewish understanding of human nature. In Judaism, strong desires, passions and inner conflicts are not necessarily seen as a sign of spiritual corruption. Sometimes it is quite the opposite: the stronger certain drives are in a person, the greater their potential may be — if they learn to direct those drives rightly.
Jewish tradition speaks of the yetzer hara, the evil inclination. But it is important to understand that this is not simply some evil that must be destroyed. It is also the powerful energy of human desire: the urge to possess, to achieve, to enjoy, to be recognised, to influence the world around us. Without this force, a person would in many ways lose the ability to act, to create, to build and to grow.
The problem begins when desires rule the person, rather than the person ruling their desires. That is why spiritual work in Judaism is not about becoming a being without passions or emotions. Its goal is to learn to channel these forces in the right direction. The book of Mishlei (Proverbs) says: “He who is slow to anger is better than the mighty, and he who rules his spirit than he who takes a city” (Proverbs 16:32). Note that wisdom here is measured not by the absence of inner struggle, but by the ability to master oneself.
A person may possess enormous energy, a strong character and great desires, but true strength shows itself in whether they are able to govern all of this. Of course, strong temptations do not in themselves prove that someone has exceptional spiritual strength. But neither do they mean that the person is doomed to keep losing. Jewish tradition does not regard a human being as a helpless prisoner of their own nature. We have freedom of choice, reason, a good inclination — the yetzer hatov — and the possibility of turning to the Almighty for help.
This is where Alexander’s story becomes a fitting illustration. A wild horse can be feared; one can try to crush its strength; or one can learn to master it. Then the very energy that once seemed dangerous becomes a source of forward movement. So it is with a person. The task is not necessarily to get rid of everything within that is strong and untamed. Sometimes we need to learn to turn these forces into patience, creativity, love, responsibility and service to the Almighty.
So when you notice strong passions or a difficult temperament in yourself, do not rush to conclude that something is spiritually wrong with you. It is far more important to understand where this energy is directed and who is in control of it. For one and the same inner fire can either destroy a life or become the force through which a person achieves a great deal. The difference lies not in the strength of the fire itself, but in whether a person has learned how to handle it.