Why Looking Back Holds You Back
Exploring how letting go can help us connect more deeply with Hashem. Print and enjoy over Shabbos.
My father, Rav Yaacov Haber, often relates that many years ago, he had the opportunity to drive a renowned Rebbe around Melbourne, Australia, to meet with potential supporters. One individual lived a bit far out, and in the days before GPS and Waze, my father was unsure of the way. The Rebbe, however, seemed to know the route and, in rich Hungarian Yiddish, kept instructing him to drive straight ahead: foroys glaych (פֿאָרויס גלײַך).' At each intersection, the Rebbe would repeat the directive to keep going straight.
Reflecting on this experience, my father noted that in life, there can be many turns and distractions, but no matter what, you need to foroys glaych—to keep going straight. Don’t look back, dwell on 'what ifs,' or get caught in indecisiveness. Keep your eye on the Shechinah and move straight ahead.
This idea of looking straight ahead and not looking back is found throughout the Torah. One well-known instance is when we left Mitzrayim and were instructed not to look back or return to Egypt. This theme appears again in the parshiyos of Lech Lecha and Vayera.
In last week’s parsha, Lech Lecha, Hashem instructs Avraham to leave everything behind—his lineage, his wealth, his prestige—and move forward to Eretz Yisrael. Avraham’s nephew Lot accompanied him but later became sidetracked in Sodom, unable to fully let go of what he had left behind.
In this week’s parsha, Vayera, the malachim inform Avraham that Sodom is too corrupt and that God will destroy it. Avraham and the malachim then embark on a mission to rescue Lot. As Lot leaves, escorted by the malachim, they command him and his family: “Do not look back—only look straight ahead.” Lot was getting back on track to follow his uncle Avraham, whose path is one where you can’t afford to be sidetracked or look back but must keep looking straight ahead.
Lot’s wife, Adit, was still worried, perhaps about her married daughters left in Sodom. She looked back—and, witnessing the destructive force of the Shechinah, was herself entrapped in its power. She turned into a pillar of salt for eternity. The Midrash adds that cows would lick the salt from her statue every day, and by morning, the salt would regenerate.1
Her transformation into a pillar of salt, one of the most corrosive elements, teaches us that, just as salt wears away anything alive, so does looking back. It is unfruitful and serves no purpose. Lot’s wife became a symbol, reminding us that holding onto the past can turn us into something lifeless and unproductive.
We must always look straight ahead.
The Navi tells us that when Elisha met Eliyahu HaNavi, he was in the middle of farming his field. He dropped everything and ran to Eliyahu to learn from him—he looked straight ahead.2
Many times in life, we ruminate over our choices, from major ones like whom we married, where we chose to live, or the lifestyle we’re leading, to smaller details like what we’re wearing, what we ate for lunch, or what we said. Often, we fall into a well of self-doubt and regret. We look back. And when we look back, we fall back, becoming unable to reach our potential in the same way. Even on a national level, we see this in commissions of inquiry, where we ask, “What could we have done differently?” While these reflections can be valuable for learning, if they’re excessive, they risk pulling us back, preventing us from focusing on the future.
Rabbi Abraham J. Twerski offers insight into dealing with one’s yetzer hara: Often, the greatest obstacle to doing teshuva and changing one’s behavior is the burden of the past. A person looks back, sees the mistakes they’ve made and the baggage they carry, and feels overwhelmed by despair. They may think, “How can I ever approach the Master of the World? How can I ever consider myself worthy? My past is too stained to get close to Hashem or make any kind of spiritual progress.” Overcome with despair, they may not even try to do teshuva, thinking, “Why would the Hashem ever want someone like me?”
This is a fundamental mistake about teshuva. The way to save one’s soul is not to dwell on past mistakes. As Rav Kook wrote:
"The foundation of teshuva must always be based on correcting the future, and initially, one should avoid focusing excessively on the obstacles related to the past. When someone sincerely commits to improving their future actions, they will be granted Heavenly assistance to correct their past as well. However, if they begin by focusing on rectifying the past, they will encounter many obstacles, making the path of repentance and closeness to Hashem difficult."3
In other words, Rav Kook emphasizes that while we must feel regret for our past misdeeds, we shouldn’t dwell on them. Instead, we need to foroys glaych—to move straight ahead, trusting that our commitment to growth will guide us forward, allowing past missteps to be resolved along the way.
Similarly, Rav Twerski explained that this is what the malachim were instructing Lot: “Lot, if you want to break away from Sodom and move forward, don’t dwell on the fact that you were once part of that society, lest you despair of ever being able to start anew.”
Yes, we may make wrong choices; we can’t always make the right decision, but we can strive to make each decision right.
The vice president of the United States often shares her motto, “What can be, unburdened by what has been.” While this sounds nice and idealistic, it isn’t the Torah way. The Torah doesn’t tell us to leave the past entirely behind and press a reset button. Rather, we must realize that our past decisions build us into our future selves. Regretting the past, in an unhealthy manner, dilutes its impact on our future.
If we study Jewish history, we see that leaders like Rabbi Akiva, the Arizal, or even someone more contemporary like my Rosh Yeshiva, Rav Nosson Tzvi Finkel, may have had rough beginnings but focused on doing the right thing and are celebrated to this day. Conversely, those who constantly looked around, trying to assimilate and second-guess their choices, ultimately failed, and their failures are remembered as examples of weak leadership.
As I thought about this, I came across a quote on Instagram by Mary Oliver that resonated deeply with me, from her poem “The Uses of Sorrow”: “Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.”
Every person is born with a unique set of gifts from Hashem and receives new ones each day. But they’re not just gifts—they’re unique debts that need to be paid forward for the benefit of others.
To feel truly connected to the Jewish people, a person needs to see clearly and feel deeply what they should do with their gifts. Don’t view the past as a burden; see it as a gift, a fuel pack to help you reach higher.
Or, as the Rebbe told my father: “foroys glaych”—keep going straight ahead.
Pirkei D’Rebbi Eliezer 25
Melachim I 19:19-21
This is so practical, thank you!!!!!!!
Love this one, thanks for sharing!