Untying the Knots

On Grievances, Beaches at 4:30 AM, and the Truth We Think We Know

Earlier this week, I saw a WhatsApp status from a cousin I’ve recently reconnected with. We’ve been having some heartfelt calls lately, mutual healing of sorts.

His post was a simple video: a quiet beach, waves rolling in at 4:30 AM, no words. Just silence. Just breath.

Later that day, I told him how much I appreciated it.

He laughed and said, “It’s ironic. As I was leaving the house, my wife asked me, ‘What are you doing? It’s 4:30 in the morning! Are you crazy?’ And you know what? Maybe I am. A few years ago, I wouldn’t have gone. For a long time, I stopped appreciating what I have. I live on the ocean, and I’d forgotten how to see it.”

Then he told me something that stayed with me.

He had read one of my recent blog posts about the Rebbe’s guidance on resolving past grievances. How the Rebbe would often advise people to look backward before moving forward, to clean the pipes before expecting clarity. My cousin took it to heart.

He’d spent the past week calling people he had unresolved tension with.

He said, “I feel clearer. Like my eyes have been opened.”

And then it hit me.

I’ve been advocating that kind of healing… without always doing it myself.

So this summer, I made a quiet decision:

I’m going to untie the knots I’ve avoided.

To clear the stuckness in my system.

To confront, not to fight, but to understand and let go.

So I made a call.

To someone I felt had wronged me.

To someone I hadn’t spoken to in far too long.

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It wasn’t easy.

At first, we went back and forth, both of us defensive. There were letters, long texts, old accusations, emotional walls.

But eventually… we hit the core.

We were both hurt.

We were both holding stories we believed were facts.

And we were both wrong, in different ways.

He said something that knocked the wind out of me:

“Why didn’t you come to me? We live near each other. You have no idea what I was going through. You don’t know what I knew, or didn’t know. You think your version is the truth. But it’s just your truth. You talk about truth. But you don’t always live it.”

He was right.

If I’m going to speak about values, resolution, and integrity, then I have to embody them when it’s inconvenient.

When it’s raw.

When it’s personal.

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I’ve been reflecting on the very first Mishnah in Pirkei Avot:

Moshe received the Torah from Sinai and passed it to Yehoshua, Yehoshua to the Elders, the Elders to the Prophets, and the Prophets to the Men of the Great Assembly. They said three things:

Be deliberate in judgment.

Raise up many students.

Make a fence around the Torah.

The Lubavitcher Rebbe taught that to understand these three instructions, we have to understand who was giving them.

The Anshei Knesset HaGedolah, the Men of the Great Assembly, were leading a shattered nation. The Temple had been destroyed. Exile, trauma, and confusion were everywhere.

And what did they say?

Be deliberate in judgment. You do not know what someone has been through. You may never understand their inner exile, their private losses, the emotional Holocaust they carry silently. So slow down. Don’t assume. Be careful when you measure another person’s worth or actions.

Then, and only then, raise up many students.

Because when you judge others with care…

When you show restraint, empathy, and depth…

People will want to listen to you.

Not because you forced them to, but because they trust your heart.

That’s how “students of the soul” are formed.

Through presence. Through patience. Through integrity.

People follow those who carry truth with humility, not volume.

And finally:

Make a fence around the Torah.

At first glance, that sounds like restriction. Build a fence to protect it, to keep others out.

But the Rebbe turned it around:

Who says the fence needs to be small? If Torah is the channel for divine truth and goodness, why build a gate that excludes? Build an ecosystem. One where everyone belongs. Where the fence doesn’t protect the Torah from the world, but brings the world into the truth.

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But lately, I’ve asked myself:

How can I build a truth-based ecosystem for others if I haven’t finished clearing my own inner space?

How can I help others reconcile and align if I still have wounds I pretend not to feel?

So here’s what I’ve learned:

One man’s predator is another’s prey.

One person’s parasite is another’s co-dependence.

One person’s “toxic” is someone else’s coping mechanism.

What we call “truth” might just be perspective, until we humble ourselves enough to see more.

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I’ve lost things. Personally. Financially.

Those losses leave echoes.

But what matters most is whether I learn from them, whether I allow them to deepen my empathy, sharpen my truth, and soften my edges.

If I claim to be building a platform that prioritizes alignment, transparency, and soul

Then my own life has to reflect those values in the trenches, not just the boardroom.

So this is my work.

To make the calls.

To untangle the knots.

To live the values.

And to raise students of the soul, not through preaching, but through presence.