
The Deep End
Looking back, I’m amazed I survived childhood. My family probably feels the same way. By age four, I had already jumped off the back porch of our second-floor apartment, launched myself into the deep end of a swimming pool without floaties, and attempted to fly like Superman from the back of a couch. Somewhere along the way, I apparently developed the belief that every jump would somehow work out fine. One summer, my uncle took me swimming. Before he could even finish putting on my floaties, I made a beeline for the pool and jumped into the deep end. I can still hear him yelling for me to stop. I didn’t listen. Instead, I was doggie-paddling around the pool, living my best life, not at all worried about the possible danger.
Somehow, that jump worked out.
Others didn’t.
Gravity Wins
During one enthusiastic attempt to imitate Superman, I launched myself off the back of a couch and spent the following weeks wearing a sling. On another occasion, a trip to the zoo ended with me covered in mud after I leaped from a park bench, rolled down a hill, and landed in a puddle somewhere between the aquarium and the gorilla exhibit. As a child, the thought of looking before leaping never entered my developing little brain. Adventure was always calling, and caution seemed terribly boring. Learning the value of hesitation would take a very long time.
The Jumps We Make as Adults
As I grew older, these leaps became less literal and more metaphorical. Instead of jumping off couches and park benches, I occasionally hurled myself into decisions without taking time to reflect. I spoke before thinking things through. I reacted before having all the details. Sometimes I assumed everything would work out just fine before I truly knew the facts. The stories aren’t nearly as entertaining as a zoo mud puddle or a failed Superman landing, but the lesson is much the same. When we leap before we look, we often find ourselves in circumstances we could have avoided. At four years old, my decision-making process generally involved spotting something high and thinking, “Hey, wouldn’t it be fun to jump?”
Jewish wisdom eventually taught me a different approach.
A Lesson From Jewish Wisdom
In Pirkei Avot, the sages offered a simple piece of advice:
“Be deliberate in judgment.”
Those four words contain a lifetime of wisdom. Jewish wisdom teaches us to stop for a minute, think things through, and then make an informed decision. The Book of Proverbs reminds us to seek wisdom and understanding, while the sages taught the importance of listening before speaking and reflecting before acting. Their message is clear: not every impulse requires immediate action. That lesson didn’t come naturally to me. But over time, it began to sink in.
Little me and the Deep End
Every now and then, just like Tiny Kel, I come across something exciting and think, “What could possibly go wrong?” I still see the deep end of the proverbial pool and assume everything will somehow be fine. But over the years, as my spiritual life deepened, I discovered that some of the best answers arrived when I stopped chasing them. They appeared during prayer, quiet reflection, or those moments when I finally became still enough to listen.
Learning When Not to Jump
I learned that faith and impulsiveness are not the same thing. Faith isn’t ignoring warning signs or charging ahead before listening. Nor is it leaping off every figurative park bench we encounter and hoping for the best. Real faith requires courage, but it also requires wisdom. These days, I still believe in taking leaps of faith. Some dreams require us to step beyond our comfort zones. Some opportunities require trust. But I’ve learned that before taking the next step, it’s worth pausing long enough to listen for guidance. And whenever I’m tempted to rush ahead, I remember the little girl who jumped off a second-floor porch, dove into the deep end without floaties, tried to fly like Superman, and landed in a mud puddle at the zoo.
She had a lot to learn.
Thankfully, she survived long enough to learn it.
I greatly appreciate your readership. If you’re interested in another article from the Joyful Jew, click the link below. Shalom, friends!










