WATCH: Rabbi Yosef Farhi talks sharks, struggles and spirituality

Life can feel full of obstacles that make us question why we’re stuck facing the same inner battles, the same yetzer hara, day after day. It’s easy to think these struggles are holding us back, breaking us down.

But Jewish wisdom, through a vivid story of Japanese fishermen, flips the script: our challenges don’t destroy us: they define us. They’re the spark that keeps us alive, pushing us to grow, adapt, and thrive.

The story starts with Japanese fishermen, passionate about fresh fish, their country’s culinary pride. By the coast, fish were vibrant, bursting with flavor from a life of swimming against currents and dodging predators. But as coastal stocks dwindled, the fishermen sailed deeper into the sea, hauling back massive catches.

People tasted the fish and grimaced: they lacked the zest of coastal ones. The fishermen tried freezers, preserving the catch on ice. Still, the frozen fish fell flat, missing that fresh vitality.

Next, they built tanks, bringing live fish to shore in pools of water. Surely, live fish would solve it. But the Japanese shook their heads: these fish, too, tasted dull.

Why? The fishermen realized the coastal fish thrived in a dynamic, high-stakes environment. Out in the open, they fought to survive, their energy infusing their flesh. In tanks, the fish grew lazy, complacent, half-asleep, with no predators or currents to keep them sharp.

An elder offered a radical idea: put predators in the tanks. Let them chase the fish, even eat a few. The result was that the surviving fish, forced to swim for their lives, tasted as vibrant as their coastal cousins. People didn’t just buy, they kept coming back.

This tale, woven into Jewish teachings, speaks to our own lives. We all face our yetzer hara, that inner voice or external challenge that pushes us to doubt, tempts us to give up, or pulls us off course. Maybe it’s a bad habit, a fear of failure, or the pressure to be someone we’re not. We look at these struggles and think, “Why me? Why this fight?” But the Midrash offers a profound perspective: God saw all He created as “very good,” including the challenges we face. The yetzer hara isn’t a curse, it’s a catalyst.

Think about it. The fishermen’s fish only shone because of the predator in the tank. Without it, they were bland, lifeless. Our struggles work the same way. That frustrating job that tests your patience? It’s teaching you grit. The fear that keeps you up at night? It’s pushing you to find courage. The yetzer hara, as the Torah calls it, is a “spice”, not something to erase, but something to work with. The Talmud doesn’t say destroy the yetzer hara; it says harness it. It’s the resistance that makes you stronger, the chase that makes you vibrant.

We see this in everyday life. The entrepreneur who fails three times before building a business learns resilience. The quiet student who pushes past shyness to speak up discovers confidence.The yetzer hara, whether it’s doubt, temptation, or hardship, keeps us moving, growing, alive. Without it, we’d be like those tank fish: comfortable, but half-dead.

This isn’t about pretending challenges are fun or easy. It’s about seeing them as part of your design. The Torah teaches that every soul has a unique role, like stars in the sky, each with its own light. Your yetzer hara, your personal predator, is there to sharpen you, to make your life’s flavor rich and real. So, when you feel overwhelmed, don’t run from the fight. Lean into it. Say, “Thank you, God, for the struggle that makes me me.” That’s where your strength lies, not in avoiding the chase, but in swimming through it.