About the Author
The Sin of
Perfectionism
🐢 About the Author
My name is Micha Turtletaub, and I’m the voice behind Turtle’s Torah Commons. I’m a writer, musician, former rabbi, father, and a student of Torah — in every sense of that word.
Although I received rabbinic ordination from the Jerusalem Rabbinate in 1996, and although I spent years immersed in Torah study—both in yeshiva and kollel... and completed six years of university education, I do not consider myself a Torah authority. I would never presume to answer a serious *halakhic* question.
Full stop.
But I do write Torah. I speak Torah. I love Torah. And if you're here, reading this, it probably means that something I’ve written has spoken to you. That means the world to me.
✍️ How These Essays Happen
Most of the essays on this site begin in conversation — with a chavrusa, or with God, or with the voices in my own mind that won’t let a question rest.
Once a theme begins to form, I write in bursts — usually stream-of-consciousness — and later refine the piece with the help of ChatGPT as a kind of *chevruta-writing partner*. But the soul of the work is mine, messy and searching as it may be.
📚 My Sources
I lean heavily on **Rashi**, **Midrash**, **Talmud**, and especially the **Maharal**, whose mystical and philosophical writings I can only approach thanks to Rabbi Yehuda Hartman’s commentary.
I’m drawn to Chassidic thought, poetry, and flashes of insight that feel more like atmosphere than structure. I believe Torah speaks in layers — *pshat*, *remez*, *drash*, *sod* — and even if I don’t grasp them all, I try to listen to each one.
But I promise... I never study Kabbalah in it's original forms. That is way, way above my pay grade.
🎭 Why I Still Write (Even When I Want to Quit)
There have been many times I wanted to take this whole site down. To say, *“Who am I to speak?”*
It’s a valid question.
I know my flaws. My scholarship isn’t vast. My spiritual character? Still under construction. I’ve made a mess of things — more than once.
But I’ve also cleaned up. Repaired. Apologized. Loved deeply. Tried to help my daughters grow through pain, flawed as I am as an example of what fathers are meant to me.
With that said, I’ve tried to build something meaningful from the broken pieces and believe that together, as a family, we've recreated something beautiful and everlasting.
I’ve come to believe that **the real sin of perfectionism** isn’t just about high standards or inevitable disappointment.
It’s much worse than that.
Perfectionism forces us to deny our individuality, our quirkiness, our honest creativity. And in doing so, our real connection to others... our at time chaotic, colourful, full of bumps and bruises love...
Because real creativity is not sterile or symmetrical or safe. It’s flawed. It surprises even the one creating it. It breaks rules and mends them differently.
It’s our eccentricities, our recoveries from failure, the unique scrapes and dents we carry, that make us who we are. And it’s the struggle to overcome those very cracks that makes us capable of love, of beauty, of art, of Torah, of meaning.
Even **Moshe Rabbeinu** — the most perfect prophet — was imperfect. He made mistakes. Yet the Rambam says every word of his prophecy is the actual word of God.
How is that possible?
Because even Moshe’s flaws were part of his perfection.
And mine are part of mine.
🕯️ Why I Keep Going
If I were my own child, wouldn’t I want to know what my father really thought? Wouldn’t I want to read his words — not because they were perfect, but because they were *his*? Because they were raw, honest, unfinished, flawed, and full of heart?
I would.
And so, this site stays. With its ragged edges and uneven stones. Because it’s me. And if it helps anyone — even just one of my daughters, or even just me on a day I need reminding — then it’s worth it.
The sin of perfectionism is not failure.
It’s paralysis.
It’s silencing yourself because you’re afraid you’re not good enough.
But you are.
We all are.
And we must speak.
Even if our voices crack.
Because that crack?
That’s where the light gets in.
My name is Micha Turtletaub, and I’m the voice behind Turtle’s Torah Commons. I’m a writer, musician, former rabbi, father, and a student of Torah — in every sense of that word.
Although I received rabbinic ordination from the Jerusalem Rabbinate in 1996, and although I spent years immersed in Torah study—both in yeshiva and kollel... and completed six years of university education, I do not consider myself a Torah authority. I would never presume to answer a serious *halakhic* question.
Full stop.
But I do write Torah. I speak Torah. I love Torah. And if you're here, reading this, it probably means that something I’ve written has spoken to you. That means the world to me.
✍️ How These Essays Happen
Most of the essays on this site begin in conversation — with a chavrusa, or with God, or with the voices in my own mind that won’t let a question rest.
Once a theme begins to form, I write in bursts — usually stream-of-consciousness — and later refine the piece with the help of ChatGPT as a kind of *chevruta-writing partner*. But the soul of the work is mine, messy and searching as it may be.
📚 My Sources
I lean heavily on **Rashi**, **Midrash**, **Talmud**, and especially the **Maharal**, whose mystical and philosophical writings I can only approach thanks to Rabbi Yehuda Hartman’s commentary.
I’m drawn to Chassidic thought, poetry, and flashes of insight that feel more like atmosphere than structure. I believe Torah speaks in layers — *pshat*, *remez*, *drash*, *sod* — and even if I don’t grasp them all, I try to listen to each one.
But I promise... I never study Kabbalah in it's original forms. That is way, way above my pay grade.
🎭 Why I Still Write (Even When I Want to Quit)
There have been many times I wanted to take this whole site down. To say, *“Who am I to speak?”*
It’s a valid question.
I know my flaws. My scholarship isn’t vast. My spiritual character? Still under construction. I’ve made a mess of things — more than once.
But I’ve also cleaned up. Repaired. Apologized. Loved deeply. Tried to help my daughters grow through pain, flawed as I am as an example of what fathers are meant to me.
With that said, I’ve tried to build something meaningful from the broken pieces and believe that together, as a family, we've recreated something beautiful and everlasting.
I’ve come to believe that **the real sin of perfectionism** isn’t just about high standards or inevitable disappointment.
It’s much worse than that.
Perfectionism forces us to deny our individuality, our quirkiness, our honest creativity. And in doing so, our real connection to others... our at time chaotic, colourful, full of bumps and bruises love...
Because real creativity is not sterile or symmetrical or safe. It’s flawed. It surprises even the one creating it. It breaks rules and mends them differently.
It’s our eccentricities, our recoveries from failure, the unique scrapes and dents we carry, that make us who we are. And it’s the struggle to overcome those very cracks that makes us capable of love, of beauty, of art, of Torah, of meaning.
Even **Moshe Rabbeinu** — the most perfect prophet — was imperfect. He made mistakes. Yet the Rambam says every word of his prophecy is the actual word of God.
How is that possible?
Because even Moshe’s flaws were part of his perfection.
And mine are part of mine.
🕯️ Why I Keep Going
If I were my own child, wouldn’t I want to know what my father really thought? Wouldn’t I want to read his words — not because they were perfect, but because they were *his*? Because they were raw, honest, unfinished, flawed, and full of heart?
I would.
And so, this site stays. With its ragged edges and uneven stones. Because it’s me. And if it helps anyone — even just one of my daughters, or even just me on a day I need reminding — then it’s worth it.
The sin of perfectionism is not failure.
It’s paralysis.
It’s silencing yourself because you’re afraid you’re not good enough.
But you are.
We all are.
And we must speak.
Even if our voices crack.
Because that crack?
That’s where the light gets in.
And now... to get a bit silly... and just for fun. We find many people in the Torah have numerous names, which represent either different aspects of their character, a turning point in their life, or history - or something deeper and mystical... and if we're clever enough, we'll see how they all connect. So I too... in my wild, impetuous, juvenile way have coined a number of names for myself in addition to my "real" ones. So.. in order of importance, here are my names. If we ever dialogue in any form, feel free to address me as any of them. I am all of them, all at once! There are seven of them. If you've read my introduction to *My Sword and My Bow* you'll probably figure out which name is my "Chai" name.
Micha Yeshaya Turtletaub
Jeffrey Scott Turtletaub
"Turtle"
The Sahib of iHeeb
Marx Lennon
Matt McFurphy
Willy Wonka
Jeffrey Scott Turtletaub
"Turtle"
The Sahib of iHeeb
Marx Lennon
Matt McFurphy
Willy Wonka