When Your Spouse Dims Your Fire: The Conflict Between Passion and Stability

"It’s unbearable. She brings me down every time. I come in with some brilliant idea, full of inspiration, and she pours water on it and puts out the flames.

"Maybe I need another wife. Maybe Talia is a mistake, and I should have married someone more supportive. I want to spread goodness, and I need another woman, a woman like the wives of great rabbis. They support their husbands and give them all the power and space they need," Amit complained.

"Do you feel that Talia extinguishes you and prevents you from progressing, both professionally and spiritually?" I asked.

"I don’t just feel it. I know it. It’s a fact. I see where my friends have reached. They’re no more talented than I am, and I have even more motivation. The problem is that I married a woman who keeps putting on the brakes," Amit said sadly, his eyes filling with tears.

The Hidden Role She Is Playing

"Look, Amit," I said gently, "I think your wife senses something deep within you. She recognizes that many of these great ‘lights’ you bring come from an unrefined place, from pride. And a place like that does not elevate a home. Sometimes it can even harm it."

"I don’t understand. How does she recognize it? Maybe she’s simply wrong?" Amit asked.

"Let me explain how the soul works," I said. "There is a kind of inner thermostat in the soul. It detects when the emotional intensity becomes too extreme, and it automatically activates counterforces to restore balance. This movement of ascent and descent is known in Hasidut as Ratzo (running upward, excitement) and Shov (returning, restraint)."

"This internal balance is meant to protect us. When the system works properly, it keeps us emotionally healthy."

When Inspiration Becomes Unbalanced

"For example," I continued, "you discover a business opportunity. Suddenly you are overflowing with enthusiasm. You stop eating properly, forget about your wife, neglect your children, live entirely inside the idea. You are flooded with ‘light,’ but it’s unbalanced. That intensity begins to damage other areas of your life."

"In such a situation, your wife becomes the one who feels the consequences most strongly. Her soul reacts. She begins to limit, restrain, question, slow you down. Not because she wants to harm you, but because the system is trying to protect the family and restore balance."

"But this isn’t business," Amit protested. "I want to fulfill my mission. I want to teach Torah, strengthen people, bring them closer to Judaism. This isn’t selfish."

"It feels pure to you," I replied, "but even spiritual ambition can contain ego. The sense that ‘I will fix them,’ ‘thanks to me they will grow,’ ‘I am the one bringing light.’ That too can come from pride, even if wrapped in holy clothing."

"And when ambition grows from pride, the soul’s balancing system malfunctions. The rise is too sharp, and the fall becomes just as extreme."

Why the Fall Hurts So Much

"So that’s why I crash so hard afterward?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. "Because the high place you reach is unrefined. And when that inflated state collapses, the soul drops into an equally unrefined low place, which is sadness, despair, and brokenness. The internal thermostat cannot stabilize you when both extremes come from distortion."

"So what are the refined places?" Amit asked quietly.

"The elevated place in the soul must come from faith, not pride. The low place in the soul must become humility, not sadness."

The Work That Restores Balance

"When you succeed, you say: this is not because of me. Everything good flows from Hashem. I am only a messenger."

"And when you fail, you say: I look inward. I take responsibility. I do not blame others. I do not excuse myself."

"This combination of faith and humility creates emotional stability. It restores the inner balance. It allows the thermostat to work properly again. From that place, growth becomes healthy, sustainable, and real."

"And that," I concluded, "is the place from which your wife will no longer need to dim your light, because your light will no longer be blinding. It will be warm. Safe. Beneficial. For you, and for everyone around you."

This column was inspired by the book Nefesh Briah by Rabbi Yitzchak Ginsburgh, in collaboration with Ishi.