By Michael R. Mantell, Ph.D., in El Cajon, California

Much of my work focuses on a question we all face at different points in our lives: How can we live healthier, happier, and more meaningful lives, even when things don’t turn out as we hoped? How do we navigate disappointment, maintain loving relationships, and cope with loss or hardship? And how do we continue growing when life takes an unexpected turn?
I believe Parsha Chayei Sarah offers beautiful insights into these questions. Interestingly, this portion, whose name means “The Life of Sarah,” begins with Sarah’s death. We read about Abraham’s grief, his search for a burial place for his wife, the search for a wife for Isaac, and the beginning of a new chapter in the family’s life. Beneath these stories are powerful lessons about emotional resilience, kindness, relationships, and living with purpose. The Torah doesn’t promise a life without sorrow or uncertainty. Instead, it offers wisdom about how to navigate life’s challenges with dignity, compassion, and purpose.
Through the lens of mental health, I find five lessons especially meaningful:
- Make Room for Grief, Then Take the Next Step
The Torah tells us that Abraham “came to eulogize Sarah and to weep for her” (Genesis 23:2). Abraham is a person of deep faith, yet he cries. His relationship with Hashem does not make him immune to the pain of loss. This is an important reminder: sadness is not a failure of faith, and feeling pain does not mean we are doing something wrong. We don’t have to pretend we’re fine or rush ourselves through grief.
Yet Abraham also takes responsibility for securing a burial place for Sarah. He mourns, and he acts. Both are part of his response to loss. Mussar, the Jewish tradition of character development, teaches savlanut—patience and the ability to bear discomfort without being ruled by it. Sometimes growth means allowing ourselves to grieve; sometimes it means taking the next step, even while sadness remains.
We don’t have to wait until every difficult feeling disappears before moving forward. We can honor our pain while finding the courage to take one step at a time.
- Focus on What Is Ours to Do
After Sarah’s death, Abraham negotiates with the people of Heth to purchase a burial place for her (Genesis 23:3–20). He cannot change what has happened, but he can choose how to respond. He focuses on what is within his responsibility. How often do we exhaust ourselves wishing or even insisting that other people would change, replaying painful conversations, or worrying about things beyond our control?
Mussar invites us to practice cheshbon hanefesh, an honest accounting of the soul. We can ask ourselves: What is mine to take responsibility for? What can I repair? What must I accept? This isn’t about blaming ourselves for everything. It’s about recognizing where we have choices and using them wisely.
This kind of reflection is not about blaming ourselves for everything that goes wrong. Nor does it mean accepting mistreatment or giving up on creating change. Rather, it helps us distinguish between what belongs to us and what does not. We may not control what life brings or how others behave, but we can often choose our response. Sometimes, peace begins when we stop trying to control everything around us and focus instead on the next constructive step we can take.
- Make Kindness a Daily Practice
When Abraham’s servant meets Rivka at the well, he asks her for water. She gives him a drink and then offers to draw water for his camels as well (Genesis 24:17–20). Rivka goes beyond what is asked of her. She notices a need and responds generously. Her kindness isn’t expressed through grand words but through a simple, thoughtful act.
Mussar teaches that we develop our middot, or character traits, through practice. If we want to become more patient, we practice pausing before reacting. If we want to be more generous, we look for opportunities to help. We might ask ourselves at the end of each day, “Did I make someone’s life a little easier today?” A thoughtful word, a sincere question, or a practical act of help can make a meaningful difference.
Rivka’s example also teaches us that kindness requires more than generosity; it requires the ability to recognize what someone else may need. In psychological terms, this reflects emotional intelligence: looking beyond our own perspective to consider another person’s experience. When someone frustrates or disappoints us, we can pause before judging. Perhaps there is something happening in their life that we don’t understand. This doesn’t mean excusing hurtful behavior or abandoning healthy boundaries. It means approaching others with curiosity and compassion.
The Malbim, in his commentary on the encounter at the well, draws attention to the significance of Rivka’s response. Eliezer asks her for water, and she responds not only to his request but also to the needs of his camels. Her actions reveal a generosity that extends beyond what is explicitly asked of her.
Imagine how differently that encounter might have unfolded if Rivka had focused only on the inconvenience of the request. Instead, she responds with an open heart and a willingness to help. This offers us a powerful lesson for our own relationships. When someone behaves in a way that we find frustrating, how often do we immediately assume the worst? How often do we react to the inconvenience of their behavior without considering what might be happening beneath the surface?
A person who seems impatient may be overwhelmed. Someone who withdraws may be struggling. A friend who disappoints us may be carrying a burden we know nothing about. Of course, understanding another person does not mean excusing hurtful behavior or abandoning our own needs. We can maintain healthy boundaries while still approaching others with curiosity and compassion.
Before reacting, we can pause and ask ourselves: “Is there something here that I may not understand? What might this person be experiencing? Is there a way to respond with both kindness and wisdom?”
True chesed, or loving-kindness, requires both a generous heart and a perceptive mind. Instead of asking only, “What is being asked of me?” we can also ask, “What might this person truly need?”
- Look for Character in Others and Ourselves
Rivka’s willingness to help reveals her character. The Torah reminds us that character is not simply what we say we value; it is what we do, especially when kindness requires time or effort. This matters in our relationships. Do we treat one another with respect? Can we speak honestly, listen with care, and repair hurt when we make mistakes? These questions also invite us to look inward. When I’m tired or frustrated, how do I treat those closest to me? Can I acknowledge when I’m wrong?
Mussar encourages us to reflect on our habits with humility, not harshness. The goal isn’t perfection. It’s to become a little more patient, thoughtful, and compassionate each day. Our relationships grow stronger when we focus not only on what we hope to receive from others, but also on the qualities we bring to the relationship ourselves.
- Honor the Past While Making Room for Life
At the end of the parsha, Isaac marries Rivka and finds comfort after his mother Sarah’s death (Genesis 24:67). The Torah doesn’t suggest that Rivka replaces Sarah or that Isaac forgets his loss. Rather, it shows us that love and life can flourish again alongside grief.
Moving forward doesn’t mean leaving someone we love behind. We carry our memories and the values we have inherited while making room for new relationships and possibilities. This is part of the deeper meaning of Chayei Sarah, “The Life of Sarah.” Perhaps a life is measured not only by its length, but by the love we share, the values we embody, and the influence we leave behind.
Each of us leaves something of ourselves in the lives of others. What do we hope our families, friends, and communities will remember about us? What qualities do we want to pass on through the way we live? Often, the most meaningful legacy is found in ordinary moments: listening when someone needs to talk, showing up when it matters, offering encouragement, or choosing kindness when life is difficult.
Chayei Sarah reminds us that we cannot always prevent loss, disappointment, or change. But we can learn to meet these experiences with greater patience, compassion, and purpose. Mussar offers us a practical way to begin: choose one middah, one character trait you would like to strengthen, and look for an opportunity to practice it this week.
Perhaps it’s patience in a frustrating moment, chesed toward someone who needs help, or compassion toward yourself when life feels difficult. We don’t have to transform ourselves overnight. Growth happens through small, steady choices.
May the wisdom of Chayei Sarah inspire us to nurture our relationships, make room for grief, recognize opportunities for kindness, and continue growing through life’s joys and challenges. May we use the time we have to bring more meaning, love, and blessing into the lives of those around us, and may the goodness we cultivate become part of the legacy we leave behind.
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Michael R. Mantell, Ph.D., prepares a weekly D’var Torah for Young Israel of San Diego, where he and his family are members. They are also active members of Congregation Adat Yeshurun.