Maybe sometimes it’s okay to be a bit fuzzy around the edges

If memories can be inherently valuable even without being strictly accurate, what does that mean for accuracy in general?

Sure, in crimes, it’s important (and often difficult) to figure out exactly what happened—who did what to whom, when, where.

But maybe sometimes the ground-level truth simply doesn’t matter.


The truth may not matter because it’s unattainable.

In college, I took part in an extracurricular class, not sponsored by the university. It was geared at secular Jewish students and led by religious instructors, aimed at connecting us more strongly to Judaism.

We don’t always achieve our aims.

I had always been taught that Judaism was about being willing to ask, and to entertain, questions. In this setting, though, the leadership focused—excessively—on answers. On whether God and Judaism are “real.” On trying to prove they exist, or at least to demonstrate that it’s impossible to disprove their existence.

And all I could think was, Why is this relevant?*

Once you’ve acknowledged that it’s either impossible to prove the existence (or disprove the nonexistence) of a thing, why expend effort trying to convince people that it’s real?

At that point, it no longer matters what’s objectively true. It only matters (to you) what’s true for you. What really matters beyond your internal universe is what you do with yourself. How you lead your life. How you treat yourself. How you treat others. What choices you make that can affect your life, your community, and the world around you.

Which are the same things that always matter.


Or the truth may not matter because it’s not the most interesting part of the story.

Maybe sometimes we can acknowledge our fallibility and still tell a story how we remember it, still feel it how we remember it, and it can be okay. Maybe sometimes it can be a strength to choose to remember good moments as good moments, as meaningful to us and inherently valuable, regardless of whatever else was going on at the time and what we might not have noticed at the time or remembered. Maybe sometimes we can even consciously set aside things that stand in the way of a positive interpretation of an experience, a chance to learn and grow from it, or at least to bask in it.


* They didn’t like this question.

Thanks to Tom for asking the question that led me down this path.


Send me emails like this, Ophira!

Leave a comment