I recall one morning where I couldn’t find my belt. I looked in all the places that it should be. Yes, I even tried to think about the last place I had it. (You know those people? You are desperately looking for something that’s missing, and the wise guy comes up with this big idea: Did you check the last place you had it? Like what does that even mean?! If I cannot find it, I clearly don’t remember where that last place was, right?! That’s precisely why I’m still looking for it!)

I made a big mess, turning things over and under, trying to find my good old belt. Finally, I gave up, placing my hands on my waist in a show of defeat…and felt something…wait a second, noooo! It was my belt, I was wearing it. I had it on me the entire time!

This story of missing things that are not actually missing happens more often than we think, quite commonly to people who are wearing glasses. 

“Honey, where are my glasses?”

“Did you check on the bridge of your nose, it was there the last 10 times you “lost” them!” 

“Valid point, thanks honey. Yup, I got them! They were just a little lower down my nose this time, I didn’t see ‘em.”

Another classic example is when we cannot find our car keys, and we're already running late to a meeting, only to then realize they are in our hands or pockets. 

I cannot tell you how many times my pen (that I wear in my shirt everyday, except for Shabbos/Yom-Tov) went “missing” on my shirt!

Let’s unpack this. What exactly happened? Why do we lose things that are not actually lost? Psychologists, random bloggers, and educated forum responders describe this phenomenon as “inattentional blindness.” Our brain only processes a limited amount of information at once, and as such, in this form of selective attention, we fail to notice something in our field of vision because our attention is focused on another task or stimulus. In the above examples, we become so focused on searching for the apparently missing item, and because our attention is now focused elsewhere, we become blinded on what’s the reality that’s before us.

One of the main highlights of this week’s Parshah is its very name: ראה—a word that means to see; describing the imperative of vision. The beginning of the Parshah discusses the importance of seeing: רְאֵ֗ה אָנֹכִ֛י נֹתֵ֥ן לִפְנֵיכֶ֖ם הַיּ֑וֹם בְּרָכָ֖ה וּקְלָלָֽה. The end of the Parshah (16:16) discusses being Oleh Regel (festival pilgrimage): שָׁל֣וֹשׁ פְּעָמִ֣ים ׀ בַּשָּׁנָ֡ה יֵרָאֶ֨ה כׇל־זְכוּרְךָ֜ אֶת־פְּנֵ֣י ׀ ה’ אֱלֹקיךָ בַּמָּקוֹם֙ אֲשֶׁ֣ר יִבְחָ֔ר בְּחַ֧ג הַמַּצּ֛וֹת וּבְחַ֥ג הַשָּׁבֻע֖וֹת וּבְחַ֣ג הַסֻּכּ֑וֹת וְלֹ֧א יֵרָאֶ֛ה אֶת־פְּנֵ֥י ה’ רֵיקָֽם. 

And somewhere in the middle, the Parshah discusses the laws of forbidden foods, one of which is the ראה (pronounced Ra’ah) bird: וְהָרָאָה֙ וְאֶת־הָ֣אַיָּ֔ה וְהַדַּיָּ֖ה לְמִינָֽהּ. 

Can it be a coincidence that the Ra’ah bird is found in none other than Parshas Re’eh, both spelled the same: ראה. (There are different opinions as to the identification of the Ra’ah bird: some say it’s the Kite, others say it’s the Old World Vulture)

What’s the problem with the Ra’ah bird? Why is it not kosher? The Gemara in Chullin (63a) tells us: דא"ר אבהו ראה זו איה ולמה נקרא שמה ראה שרואה ביותר – Rabbi Abbahu says. The Ra’ah is the Ayya, and why is it called the Ra’ah? Since it sees most vividly. 

The commentaries explain (see, for example, Malbim), the Ra’ah bird is רואה מרחוק, it has keen eyesight and can see things from a great distance. The Gemara tells us: עומדת בבבל ורואה נבלה בארץ ישראל, that it can stand in Bavel and see a carcass in Eretz Yisroel. 

We see two fascinating features about the Ra’ah bird. Firstly, it is רואה ביותר (it sees what’s in the distance) and secondly, it is רואה נבלה (it sees impurity). 

It’s true, the Ra’ah bird has a great power of vision. However, it uses the power of ראה, the power of vision, for negative/ra/impurity. The Torah tells us ראה אנכי נותם לפניכם היום, to see what is right before us, today. We are meant to live in the present and tap into each moment. The Ra’ah bird, though, does the opposite. It sees way off into the distance, instead of seeing what’s right before it. That, my friends, is not a “kosher” trait. 

Additionally, we are taught that the Ra’ah bird sees impurity (רואה נבלה בארץ ישראל). Think about that. Eretz Yisroel is the holiest land on the planet. It’s a land of beauty and goodness, flowing with milk and honey. If all you can see is the “carcass in Eretz Yisroel,” something is wrong. If all you can focus on is the negative aspects of something, that is not a kosher trait. The Torah tells us ראה אנכי נותם לפנכים היום ברכה וקללה. Before any curse/bad/negative, we are taught to see the blessings/goodness in our lives. We are meant to see the goodness in ourselves and in others. We must not focus on the “carcass in Eretz Yisroel.”

It can be said that the Ra’ah bird suffers from “inattentional blindness.” It sees what’s in the distance, failing to see what’s up close. It sees the negative, failing to see the positive. 

When we desperately look for our belt/keys/wallet/glasses, only to discover it’s on us, it’s almost comical. If you don’t laugh, usually your spouse will. It’s amusing. But when “inattentional blindness” starts to creep into the more important parts of our lives, it’s more serious. When we desperately choose to look out there – for meaning and happiness – we lose focus on the fact of the matter: meaning and happiness is right here. The Tzaddikim point out that בשמחה is the same letters as במחשבה. Meaning and happiness is not out there, it’s right in here. Don’t look too far, or you will not find it!

Similarly, when we choose to look at all the negatives (the “carcass of Eretz Yisroel”)—our failures, our mishaps, our misdeeds—we lose focus on the fact of the matter: I am actually good inside. ראה אנכי. See the real “I,” focus on the part of you that is actually good. Embrace your Nekuda Tova. Don’t look too far in the distance searching, just look inside. 

Greatness is right in front of you, because “greatness is you!” 

As we approach the auspicious days of Elul, let us reframe what Teshuva is. It’s not about seeing into the distance of what I can potentially become. Nor is it about seeing all of our wrongs. Rather, Teshuva is the process of ראה אנכי, of seeing our true selves. It’s about seeing yourself for who you really are, deep down.

Wishing you a holy Shabbos!