TMT, Rabbi Zakheim, Hasmada, 4

Good morning.

We continue our discussion on hasmadah—consistency in Torah learning. Interestingly, there are two Hebrew words that carry this idea: tamid, meaning “constant,” and tadir, meaning “frequent” or “regular.” Both reflect the incredible power of doing something all the time.

One of my dearest friends is making a siyum today on an entire Seder of Mishnayos—an extraordinary achievement. But accomplishments like that don’t come from occasional efforts or taking multi-year breaks. They come from a steady, step-by-step commitment. Just a little bit, done consistently, can lead to massive success.

This is the secret behind Daf Yomi—2,711 blatt of Gemara, one page a day. My own father, zichrono livracha, didn’t finish a full daf of Gemara on his own until he was around 50 years old. But once he began Daf Yomi, he never stopped—and 2,711 days later, he completed Shas. It’s consistency, not speed, that gets you across the finish line.

This value is even codified in halacha. We have the rule: tadir v’she’eino tadir, tadir kodem—when two mitzvos present themselves, you give precedence to the one that is done more regularly. Consistency gives something weight and priority.

I want to share two meaningful insights.

The first comes from Rav Chaim Volozhiner, the great disciple of the Vilna Gaon and founder of the yeshiva movement. He’s quoted as saying something surprising. We often hear about the greatness of kevius ittim—setting aside specific times for learning Torah. But Rav Chaim flipped the perspective. He said: make Torah your tamid—your constant. Let everything else in life work around it. Set your time for distractions, for bittul Torah, if needed—but everything else should be built around learning.

My Rebbe’s father, zichrono livracha, learned in Radin for 16 years. There aren’t many stories told about him. Why? Because he did the same thing every single day. He never missed a seder, never missed a tefillah, for 16 years straight. He didn’t stay up late past night seder, and he didn’t rise before dawn to learn either. He was concerned that such efforts would interfere with being consistent. His greatness was in never missing—not once—what he was supposed to do.

There is enormous strength in that model.

So today, I want to wish a heartfelt mazal tov to my dear friend on his siyum. His consistency has lit a fire in me, and I hope to follow his path and one day make a siyum on Mishnayos myself. May all of us be inspired to take on great things—one small, steady step at a time.

Have a wonderful day, b’ezras Hashem.

TMT, Rabbi Adelman, Hasmada, 3

Good morning.

We are continuing our discussion on hasmadah—diligence in learning—and its deeper meaning. The word hasmadah shares a root with tamid, meaning “constant.” It refers not merely to frequency, like learning on Sunday, again on Monday, and again on Tuesday. Rather, a masmid is someone who strives to utilize every single moment for growth.

Of course, learning consistently on a daily, weekly, and yearly basis is crucial. But when we describe someone as a masmid, we’re highlighting more than just routine—we’re emphasizing the attitude of happening upon every spare minute, maximizing every opportunity to learn and grow.

There’s a well-known secular saying: “Slow and steady wins the race.” It’s important to understand that the key word here is not “slow,” but “steady.” The victory lies in consistency. A true masmid is someone who doesn't necessarily push himself beyond his limits all the time, but who is always engaged—always in motion, always growing.

If you look in Orchos Yosher, where Rav Chaim Kanievsky writes a chapter about Torah, he makes this point very clearly. He says that if someone truly wants to become a ben Torah, he must dedicate himself to learning with diligence and constancy. A true ben Torah makes use of every moment available to him.

At the same time, this commitment can become an opening for the yetzer hara. The yetzer hara can come along and whisper: “You missed a day. You were supposed to learn at this time and you didn’t. You failed.” That feeling can derail a person.

We must remember: while consistency is essential, missing a moment doesn't mean we’re lost. Don’t think, “I missed my streak—now it’s all ruined.” Because ultimately, the real “streak” we want to maintain is being an eved Hashem at every moment—doing what Hashem wants from us in that specific situation.

I’ll share a powerful story.

A man was once on his way to a close friend’s wedding. On the way, he got stuck in traffic and realized he would miss mincha with a minyan—and this was no small matter for him. He had a streak of years without missing a single tefillah b’tzibur. But if he stopped to find a minyan, he would miss the chosson tish, the intimate gathering before the chuppah where the groom is surrounded by his closest friends.

Conflicted, he called his Rosh Yeshiva, Rav Chaim Epstein zt”l, and asked what he should do.

Rav Chaim told him to go straight to the wedding. The man protested, “Rebbe, I’ve had a streak of years without missing a minyan!”

Rav Chaim replied, “It’s true—you’ll miss a minyan this time. But you won’t break your true streak—the one that matters most. You’ll still be someone who lives every moment as an eved Hashem, doing what Hashem wants of you in that moment. And that streak remains unbroken.”

TMT, Rabbi Milstein, Hasmada, 2