Just when you think that the story is over, there always seems to be more.

As we read the epic tale of Joseph, Yosef HaTzadik, each chapter in his life seems that it could signify the end, but it is not.

He is put in a pit and left to die––not the end.

He is sold as a slave–not the end.

He rises to the top level in his job-–not the end.

He is sent to jail to languish–not the end.

He has a ruptured relationship with his brothers-–not the end.

Yosef is the paradigm of resilience in the book of Breishit and in looking more at this fascinating character, we see that his life reflects the dual nature of his name.

In Vayetze, we are told that Rachel is finally given the gift of children and she gives her child the name, Yosef.

The first meaning of his name is the hope for an end. The name Yosef contains the root of the word for end, sof, as his birth marks the end of this terrible chapter of disgrace for Rachel. (Gen 30:23-24)

וַתַּ֖הַר וַתֵּ֣לֶד בֵּ֑ן וַתֹּ֕אמֶר אָסַ֥ף אֱלֹקְים אֶת־חֶרְפָּתִֽי׃

She conceived and bore a son, and said, “God has taken away my disgrace.”

וַתִּקְרָ֧א אֶת־שְׁמ֛וֹ יוֹסֵ֖ף

So she named him Joseph.

At the same time, her name for Joseph is not just about the end, it is about adding and continuing. It is the hope that her good fortune will continue and she will be granted another son.

לֵאמֹ֑ר יֹסֵ֧ף ה› לִ֖י בֵּ֥ן אַחֵֽר׃

which is to say, “May י-ה add another son for me.”

Rashbam points out that Yosef is named for both of these ideas,

הרי שם זה משמש שני אמירות: אסף ויוסף. His very name contains the seemingly contradictory message of both finality and continuity. (The idea that sof is can be seen as both a continuing and an ending is also reflected in the Rashi on וְלֹ֥א יָסָֽפוּ on the prophesying of Eldad and Meidad in Bamidbar 11:25.)

Following the Yosef parshiyot over the past month, I have constantly, “coincidentally,” run into books or poems that have reflected the reality that the idea of an end to anything in our lives is something not so simple.

David Whyte, the Anglo-Irish poet and philosopher, in his Consolations II, dedicates a full essay to the concept of “end.” While certainly there are some things that are fully final, most things are not. He writes, “End only means that we have reached the limit of our ability to track what is actually occurring. End is never an ending in itself…There is no right true end in any of the endings we imagine we desire.” (p. 101)

For Whyte, the “end” is something that is a natural need for us as we like to frame things and put them in particular categories. Yet, there is really no such thing as a permanent true end, just a pause.

This idea of things always being in motion is echoed in the concept of impermanence, as articulated in Buddhist Nun, Pema Chodron’s “When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times.” She writes, “Impermanence is the goodness of reality. Just as the four seasons are in continual flux… everything is constantly evolving. Impermanence is the essence of everything. It is babies becoming children, then teenagers, then adults, then old people and somewhere along the way dropping dead. Impermanence is meeting and parting.…” (p..59).

In looking at the life of Yosef, whether it was his ambition to reach the top in the house of Potiphar or in the jail, his attention to dreams or even his ability to realize that that famine will come after plenty, we see that he was constantly keeping his eyes open for the next opportunity to have an impact. Yosef’s character truly reflected his name, kishmo ken hu. It is this unique name that contains the sound of sof, end, but really embodies hoseef, the concept of constantly adding chapters, realizing that the “end” is just a way of naming the limit of our ability to track what is actually fully occurring.

Whether we look at the story of Yosef or at our own stories, the constant evolution of life is something that we have to always keep in mind. While cognitively we know that things change, it is hard to truly emotionally internalize impermanence and use it as a lens, yet this skill is critical.

When we show ourselves, our students, our children and our loved ones that we know that every stage is truly temporary, that almost every disappointment will pass and that every triumph is fleeting, we incorporate this concept of impermanence and a trust in the ongoing, dynamic experience of human existence. “Impermanence is a principle of harmony. When we don’t struggle against it, we are in harmony with reality.”

When we are in harmony with this impermanence it allows us to both live in the moment, and, at the same time, prepare and plan for the future, with humility, generosity, with our hearts and our heads, as Yosef did.

Life, the world and all of our relationships, as Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks said, are “a never-ending stream.” Very few things and chapters of our lives are a full-stop end, a sof, but they are rather an impermanent, yoseef.

As we head into the heart of winter, the time where darkness seems to reign, let’s always keep in mind that the bare dead trees of the winters of our lives will give way to blossoming springs. Springs will sprout into vibrant summers, and summers will decay into surrendering autumns. Impermanence is a permanent state of nature and humanity.

We must embrace that reality and do what we can to impact the inevitable changes that will come to our homes, our classrooms, our communities and our world.

Rabbi Aaron Frank is the Ramaz Upper School principal.