We are complex beings, constantly oscillating between different versions of ourselves. Some days we feel grounded, secure in who we are (higher self), and other days we battle with insecurity, questioning our worth and place in the world (lower self).
This duality exists within each of us, and it's important to recognize that both the higher self and lower self are parts of who we are. The key is not to suppress either but to meet and understand both.
I can feel the pull between these two forces differently each day depending on my focus and what I am exploring. I noticed that my lower self is more sensitive when I feel vulnerable. Conversely, I can feel my higher self shine the most when I am connected to my heart and soul.
These two parts—my lower self and my higher self—are both in me. The real work is not in erasing one and glorifying the other, but in allowing both to exist and finding peace in their meeting. It’s in this delicate balance that I discover clarity, strength, and the path back to who I truly am.
Embracing Both Sides
My lower self is the part of me that feels driven by insecurity. It’s the side of me that lashes out when I feel unseen or misunderstood, that withdraws into a protective cocoon, pretending not to care when I care deeply. It’s uncomfortable to acknowledge, but these reactions are like red flags signaling that something inside me is out of alignment.
These actions, whether it’s lashing out or shutting down, are a reflection of my deeper fears and vulnerabilities—my fear of not being enough, not being loved, or not being accepted.
But I’m learning that these reactions have a purpose.
They show me where I’m hurting, where my needs aren’t being met, and where I’m most vulnerable. Without these moments of discomfort, I wouldn’t always know what matters to me or where I need to realign with myself. My lower self forces me to confront the areas of my life that need attention—it’s a necessary guide, but not a place to stay.
On the other hand, my higher self is grounded in something far greater than my fears. It’s the part of me connected to Hashem, to my core values, and to the purpose I’m meant to live out in this world. It’s the voice that reminds me of who I truly am, even when I feel lost or unsure. My higher self is steady, like an anchor that grounds me in love and faith.
It’s here that I reconnect with what truly matters—the love I want to give to others, the life I want to create, and the impact I hope to have on those around me.
Finding Peace in Balance
The real struggle is finding the balance between these two parts of me. My lower self demands attention, pushing me to advocate for my needs and care for myself, but if I indulge too much, I risk spiraling into defensiveness or withdrawal, losing sight of the bigger picture. That's where my higher self comes in, reminding me to stay grounded in love and trust, guiding me back to the path that aligns with my values.
Peace, I’ve realized, comes not from denying my insecurities, but from recognizing them, allowing both my lower and higher selves to coexist, and let them teach me what I need to know.
It’s in this balance that I find my answers—between the needs that my lower self screams for and the quiet wisdom of my higher self.
The Role of Judaism and Faith
In Judaism, this duality between the lower and higher self is mirrored in the concept of the yetzer hara (our inclination toward selfish desires or impulses) and the yetzer hatov (our inclination toward doing good and aligning with Hashem’s will). These two inclinations exist within each of us, and neither is inherently bad. The yetzer hara pushes us to pursue our desires and needs, while the yetzer hatov guides us to do so in a way that aligns with our faith and values.
It’s in this delicate balance that spiritual growth occurs. The yetzer hara drives us toward action, but without the guidance of the yetzer hatov, we risk becoming consumed by our ego or fears. Conversely, without acknowledging the yetzer hara, we might overlook important needs and desires that propel us forward in life.
I’ve come to see that my battle between the lower and higher self is not a flaw—it’s part of the human experience. Both have their place, and both are necessary for growth. My role is to find the balance between them, trusting that Hashem’s wisdom will guide me on the right path.
Reflection During the High Holidays
As the High Holidays approach, this theme of balancing my lower and higher self feels particularly poignant.
Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur offer a sacred time to reflect on the past year, to confront the ways in which I’ve acted out of alignment, and to set intentions for renewal in the year to come. It’s a time for deep introspection, where I’m asked to look honestly at my actions, my mistakes, and the ways in which I’ve grown.
Rosh Hashanah marks the beginning of this journey. It’s a time to reconnect with my higher self, to set intentions for the year ahead, and to recognize my capacity for renewal. The shofar calls me to wake up from the patterns and habits that no longer serve me, urging me to return to who I truly am. For me, this means acknowledging the moments when my lower self has taken control—when I acted out of fear, insecurity, or doubt—and asking myself how I can realign with Hashem, with my values, and with the person I want to become.
Yom Kippur deepens this process, offering a day of atonement, reflection, and forgiveness. It’s a time to seek forgiveness from others, but also from myself. It’s a day of releasing guilt and shame, of letting go of the burden of past mistakes. But it’s also a time to reconnect with Hashem’s unwavering love, to trust that I am forgiven, and to step forward into the new year with a renewed sense of purpose.
(Photo: Masada at sunrise)
Note to self (Daily progress):
With the High Holidays approaching, I’m reminded that this process of growth and finding peace is ongoing. These days ask me to look back at the times I’ve let fear take the lead, to have compassion for myself in those moments, and to forgive. They call me to enter the new year not weighed down by the past, but with a heart full of trust in Hashem and faith in the path ahead.
These days invite me to let go of the fear of the future and to focus on creating an environment where Hashem’s love and plan for my life can grow and flourish.
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