Symptomatic Myopia: Seeing Beyond the Surface
The ultra-Orthodox Jewish community, or Haredim, faces many challenges. One that I’ve noticed is physical myopia—nearsightedness—which is remarkably common in this population. Why might this be? There are a few theories, but one compelling idea relates to their lifestyle. Ultra-Orthodox Jews spend a great deal of time studying texts, often with tiny letters, held close to their faces for hours on end. This habitual close focus may lead to a physical condition where they can see what’s right in front of them but struggle with long-distance vision.
But this issue of nearsightedness isn’t just physical. I’d argue it extends metaphorically into their worldview and even into how many of us approach life. I call this phenomenon symptomatic myopia. It’s a condition where we focus so much on immediate symptoms that we fail to see the bigger picture or the root causes of the problem.
The Trap of Symptomatic Thinking
Let me give you an example. Have you ever gotten into an argument with your spouse about something as seemingly trivial as how to load the dishwasher? If so, you probably know the fight isn’t really about the dishwasher. It’s about something deeper—misplaced frustration or unresolved emotions elsewhere in the relationship. Fixating on the surface disagreement about dish placement misses the real issue, and until you address that, the arguments will keep coming back.
This kind of myopic focus happens in other areas too. Think about weddings. Some couples get so obsessed with planning the “perfect” wedding—every detail of the event, every flower arrangement, every menu choice—that they forget to nurture their relationship. They end up with a spectacular celebration but a shaky foundation for their marriage.
This tendency to focus on symptoms rather than underlying causes extends to health as well. In the 1980s, Dr. Jonathan Sarno conducted a study on chronic back pain. His findings were groundbreaking: many patients with persistent, unexplained back pain were actually suffering from unresolved emotional stress. Their bodies manifested the pain as a distraction from their inner turmoil. Sarno’s patients often sought relief through medications or physical therapy, but these approaches rarely worked because they targeted the symptom, not the root cause.
This principle—that addressing symptoms without tackling the core problem leads to frustration and failure—appears everywhere in life.
Lessons from Pharaoh
Let’s look at Pharaoh in this week’s Torah portion. Pharaoh’s refusal to free the Israelites is a textbook case of symptomatic myopia. He sees the escalating plagues as a challenge to his gods’ power rather than a call to resolve the deeper issue: the injustice of slavery. His focus on maintaining control blinds him to the broader moral imperative.
One particular plague sheds light on this myopia: the plague of frogs. Or, as the Torah puts it, the plague of tzfardea—a singular “frog.” The Hebrew word for frogs is tzfardaim, but here, the text uses the singular form, sparking centuries of rabbinic debate and creative interpretation.
I’ll admit, I love one particular midrash about tzfardea. Imagine a massive, Godzilla-like frog terrorizing Egypt. The Egyptians, understandably terrified, attack the giant frog, hoping to eliminate the threat. But every time they strike it, the frog splits into more frogs. They hit those frogs, and even more appear. Soon the land is overrun by tzfardaim, an infestation far worse than the original giant frog.
What’s fascinating about this midrash is how it illustrates symptomatic myopia. The Egyptians are so fixated on attacking the frogs that they don’t stop to consider why the plague is happening. The frogs are a symptom of a deeper problem: Pharaoh’s stubbornness and refusal to let the Israelites go. By focusing only on eliminating the frogs, the Egyptians worsen the situation instead of addressing the root cause.
Spiritual Myopia in Our Own Lives
This tendency to miss the bigger picture isn’t just Pharaoh’s problem—it’s ours too. Even within the Haredi community, where I grew up, I’ve observed another kind of symptomatic myopia: spiritual myopia. This manifests in an overemphasis on the minutiae of halacha (Jewish law) at the expense of its broader purpose.
Take Shabbat, for example. Some in the Haredi world become so preoccupied with avoiding minute violations—like tearing toilet paper or ensuring no threads on a towel might rip—that they lose sight of what Shabbat is supposed to be. Shabbat is meant to nurture our souls, provide rest, and deepen our spiritual connection. When we hyper-focus on the details to the point of stress or inconvenience, we risk missing the point entirely.
Many of us grew up in homes where we pre-tore toilet paper before Shabbat. While that might be a valid way to observe the laws, it’s also a striking example of how focusing on the letter of the law can sometimes distract from its spirit. In striving to avoid technical violations, we might lose sight of the joy and peace Shabbat is meant to bring.
Seeing Beyond Perfect Vision
Here’s an interesting note about vision: I have 20/15 eyesight, which is better than the standard 20/20. Despite this, I wear glasses for reading. Why? As I’ve aged, the lenses in my eyes have become less flexible. Even with perfect vision, my eyes sometimes struggle to adjust. The glasses help me focus, reducing fatigue and headaches when I read.
This experience has taught me something profound. Even with “perfect vision,” I can miss things. And the same goes for life. We might think we see clearly, but without stepping back to consider the broader perspective, we risk missing the root causes of the challenges we face.
The Challenge of Shabbat
This Shabbat, I invite you to reflect on your life through this lens. What are the things causing you stress, frustration, or anger? Are you focusing too much on symptoms, like Pharaoh with his frogs, instead of looking at the bigger picture?
Try to zoom out. If you’re feeling stuck in an argument or situation, ask yourself: What’s really going on here? What’s the deeper issue I’m not addressing?
Symptomatic myopia isn’t just a condition of the eyes; it’s a condition of the soul. And like physical myopia, it requires intentional effort to correct. Let’s use Shabbat as an opportunity to step back, refocus, and see the bigger picture.
Shabbat Shalom.