A Jewish Living Delaware exclusive interview with Rabbi Levi Shmotkin, author of Letters for Life
By Emma Driban, Editor
The topic of mental health and wellbeing has always been a bit taboo. Most people prefer to keep their struggles tucked away, but younger generations are making a concerted effort to bring their wellness journeys into the light—helping to assuage the stigma surrounding the topic.
In Judaism, we view mental health more holistically, believing that healing the nefesh (mind) is just as critical as healing the body. Despite this, it’s still a topic that tends to be off limits. We do not typically recite Mi Sheberach for people dealing with depression, eating disorders, anxiety, substance use or other mental health issues. But the unfortunate truth is that approximately one in five adults experiences some form of mental illness
Rabbi Levi Shmotkin has devoted his life to making ancient Jewish wisdom accessible to the challenges of modern life. In his new book, Letters for Life: Guidance for Emotional Wellness from the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Shmotkin distills thousands of the Lubavitcher Rebbe’s private counseling letters into practical themes for emotional strength and resilience.
In this conversation, the young rabbi shares how personal struggles led him to this work, the guiding principles he’s uncovered, and why he believes hope and empowerment are central to Jewish life today.
- What drew you to the subject of mental well-being as it connects to Jewish teachings and faith?
Rabbi Shmotkin: Honestly, it came from a very personal place. I was going through traditional yeshiva education, focused on Talmudic studies and Jewish philosophy. I had great parents, teachers, and friends—nothing in my life pushed me into this path. But at some point, I began feeling a heavy inner world pulling at me. Suddenly I was experiencing self-doubt, insecurity, and difficult emotions that distracted me entirely from my studies.
I realized I couldn’t ignore this. I needed something that would speak not just to my mind, but to my emotions—something practical I could use. That’s when I gravitated to a section of my yeshiva library filled with the Lubavitcher Rebbe’s letters. There are tens of thousands, written to people from every walk of life: teenagers struggling with friendships, young parents overwhelmed by responsibility, people facing addiction, and ordinary folks dealing with fear or confusion. The Rebbe drew from three thousand years of Jewish wisdom to respond to their very human struggles.
As I read, I felt the letters weren’t just addressing others—they were speaking directly to me. The words lifted me out of the fog I was in and opened new ways to see myself, the world, and my purpose. Out of gratitude, I began organizing the recurring themes I found. Those notes became the foundation for my project.
- How did you determine which themes to highlight in the book, given the vastness of Jewish wisdom?
Rabbi Shmotkin: It was difficult—there was both too much and too little to write. I don’t claim these 12 themes capture all of Jewish wisdom, but they represent core ideas the Rebbe consistently returned to in his letters. One guiding principle was preventative medicine. Judaism teaches that true healing isn’t just about curing illness but preventing it in the first place. The Rebbe emphasized tools that strengthen us before crises strike, so we don’t fall as easily into despair. That lens helped me focus.
- Could you share a couple of those themes?
Rabbi Shmotkin: Sure—let me give you one spiritual and one practical example. Spiritually, there’s hashgachah pratit, the idea of divine providence on an individual level. God isn’t only connected to the world in general, but to you personally. That awareness counteracts the loneliness so many people feel today. It also reframes relationships: if people in your life are there by divine design, then those connections carry purpose and meaning. This helps cultivate resilience and a sense of mission.
On the practical side, the Rebbe often stressed routine. Inner harmony depends on outer harmony. If we have chaos in our schedule and are living without a routine, this will act as a catalyst for inner turmoil. People would write to the Rebbe in these deep conundrums, full of self-doubt, with messy and complex thoughts, and the Rebbe would first ask, “How is your schedule?”
- The past few years have brought enormous challenges—COVID, global unrest, and most recently, October 7. How have these events affected the principles you teach?
Rabbi Shmotkin: COVID forced people to confront vulnerability. Careers, routines, and social lives were disrupted overnight, and many felt profoundly alone. It drove home how quickly external stability can vanish and highlighted the need for inner resources. That’s part of why the book resonates—even though the Rebbe’s letters were written decades ago, they address the timeless human experience beneath modern circumstances.
October 7 has been even more painful. Across Jewish communities worldwide, I’ve heard people describe feeling betrayed or abandoned by societies they thought they were fully part of. That sense of the ground shifting under our feet has been deeply unsettling. In those moments, the Rebbe’s counsel about identity becomes crucial. He warned that minorities often develop an inferiority complex, longing for acceptance. His antidote was to double down on Jewish identity—not by hiding or apologizing, but by embracing practice and connection. Lighting Shabbat candles, putting on tefillin—these acts root us in something bigger than public opinion and help us feel at home in our own skin.
- What advice do you most often share with people who feel weighed down by negativity?
Rabbi Shmotkin: A principle I return to often is what I call “don’t battle—pivot.” When negative thoughts arise, our instinct is to fight them, but that only feeds them. The Rebbe explained that God created us with an innate straightforwardness—an inner health. Negativity is like weeds in a garden: they pop up, but the soil itself is healthy. If we keep pouring our attention onto the weeds, they thrive. But if we pivot—if we water the healthy parts of our lives, like meaningful work, relationships, or acts of kindness—the weeds wither naturally.
So, when darkness shows up, I encourage people to invest energy elsewhere. Pick up a book, take a walk, help a friend. It feels like avoidance, but it’s actually proactive healing. You’re cutting off the weeds’ water supply and allowing your natural well-being to reemerge.
- In the Jewish community, what can we do to reduce the stigma around mental health?
Rabbi Shmotkin: I think we need to reframe the conversation. Too often, it focuses only on pity or sympathy. While compassion is important, it can unintentionally reinforce a sense of victimhood that people resist. Instead, we should emphasize empowerment—our collective ability to build resilience and lead meaningful lives.
The Rebbe also stressed consultation. He didn’t just say “talk to someone”; he said “consult with someone.” Talking often means unloading. Consulting implies inviting another person’s wisdom and perspective into our lives. That takes humility, but it’s empowering—it says, “I’m not alone, others have insights that can help me.” If our community culture emphasized this kind of empowered interdependence, more people would feel comfortable seeking support.
- Looking ahead, what gives you hope about the Jewish community?
Rabbi Shmotkin: After visiting over a hundred cities on book tour, I feel incredibly hopeful. Despite the pessimism we sometimes fall into, I’ve seen extraordinary resilience, especially among young Jews. People like to dismiss Gen Z as distracted or shallow, but in my experience they’re deeply spiritual and idealistic. They can quickly sense authenticity, and they’re hungry for it. Across the world, Jews are seeking connection—to our people, our heritage, and our wisdom. The desire to connect with idealism, is just unbelievable.
- Any final message for our readers?
Rabbi Shmotkin: We are much bigger than we think—both as individuals and as a people. We owe it to ourselves to let that greatness shine.
