There are two types of letters: written letters and engraved letters. What is the difference? A written letter can be erased; an engraved letter cannot—not without destroying the stone it is carved into.

This difference reflects something deeper: a written letter is formed by joining two separate items—ink and paper—which can be separated just as they were joined. An engraved letter, by contrast, emerges from the stone itself.

The written letter is something foreign imposed upon a surface; the engraved letter is something native, revealed from within. Or, as Michelangelo is said to have described sculpting: “It’s easy; you simply remove everything that isn't the sculpture.”

What does this have to do with anxiety and depression?

Anxiety and depression are often the result of discomfort or confusion about one's own identity. Who am I, really? What do I truly want, beyond what I think I want?

People spend a fortune searching for someone who can help them figure out the answer.

Keeping in mind the difference between written and engraved letters can help us identify the message engraved in the depths of our own being and distinguish it from what has merely been written over us, covering and suffocating our truest self.

In its description of the Tablets containing the Ten Commandments, the Torah says:

The tablets were the work of G‑d, and the writing was the writing of G‑d, engraved upon the tablets.1

On the word “engraved,” charut, Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi remarks: “Do not read the word only as charut (engraved); read it also as cherut (freedom), for there is no truly free person except one who is engaged in Torah.”2 3

At first glance, this seems paradoxical. With all its obligations and prohibitions, how can someone bound by Torah be considered free? Isn’t the person who does whatever they want much freer?

In light of what we said about written versus engraved letters, the answer becomes clear. The Torah’s guidelines are not something externally imposed upon us, like ink on paper. They allow us to identify, reveal, access, and activate what lies deepest in our own essence. Like an engraved letter, they can never be erased. They may be covered by accumulated layers of dust and distraction, but they are never gone. All that is needed is to remove what has accumulated, and the original clarity shines through.

At the Exodus from Egypt, we were freed from enslavement to an external tyrant, Pharaoh, but we remained enslaved to an even more powerful one: ourselves. Our instincts can enslave us in ways no outside force ever can. And we often convince ourselves that following our instincts is what it means to be free.

At the foot of Mount Sinai, we were shown the great secret of human fulfillment: unlike an animal, whose freedom and power depend on satisfying its instincts freely, the truly free and happy human is one who can direct those instincts toward a purpose beyond immediate, fleeting gratification—a purpose that leaves a lasting mark.

The tool for this week: To discover what you truly want, ask yourself whether it points toward who you really are—or only toward who you appear to be.