We know that some people are larger than others, by virtue of what they create. An author, for example, writes words, words that can survive death itself. Those words in turn can influence others, creating a lasting legacy that reflects the original creator. In this way, the author can be greater than if they had chosen a less productive path.
The very same thing could be said about anything we do in life: if we invest in a relationship, then the relationship becomes a thing in itself. If we love a pet, then that pet comes to embody and reflect the energy that is poured into it. It is, in a way, not that different than the spiritual energies we might pour into an heirloom. People have this seemingly-magical capacity to make things that are both extensions of us, and build out from us. In this way, we can grow.
Of course, we can also choose poorly. Pets are often poor stand-ins for children or grandchildren. The Torah speaks of people creating molten images – images that exude the energies that were poured into idols. Just as investing solely in ourselves is a wasted opportunity so, too, investing into unproductive or even destructive ends represents a huge opportunity cost for the investor.
But there is a larger story here, as well: Is not G-d the original investor? He created the world, and invested His soul into each person. (That is, after all, why we, in turn have a touch of that divine creative power.)
And doesn’t G-d grow in the process? The world now exists, courtesy of its Creator. Isn’t that divine growth?
In the Torah, G-d first creates. After the first week, He then seeks to grow relationships. The stages are the same as any relationship we might experience: from recognition to connection to obedience to partnership and onward.
Perhaps this is a template for us to follow? That we can follow in G-d’s path by making things that never existed before? And then we can invest – truly pour our own energies into – the physical world around us, the people we can connect with, and with G-d Himself?
Is this why the Torah is essentially a guide for creating and nurturing holy relationships and holy societies? Because this is not something that mankind has done, or is doing alone? Instead, we have a template to follow: G-d’s own successes and travails with us?
G-d invests in us, and in so doing, He grows. We, in turn, invest in each other and in G-d. Ideally, we similarly benefit from choosing productive uses for our energies.
In a sense, this answers the question of whether a person is guided by selfishness or selflessness – a dichotomy which is built on a false and even destructive premise. After all, any “selfless” act often comes with a psychic or moral benefit, so is arguably still selfish. I feel good about myself when I help others: does that make me selfish or selfless?
Much more importantly, I think the real goal should always be the degree to which we invest in building relationships with others, regardless of the reasons why we choose to do. This is because ultimately, if we choose to invest in others and grow, then we are following in the path of G-d.