I met a friend in Shul the other day and asked him, "I called you two days ago, why didn't you return my call?" He responded, "The day you called me I was in a bad mood; when I’m in a bad mood I don’t return calls. That’s just how I am!" He implied that although the behavior was inappropriate, it was somehow justified. After all, "What can I do? I am at the mercy of my moods."

We've adopted a modern habit, or shall I say vice, of worshiping feelings, as if feelings, as long as they are sincere, are an acceptable standard-bearer of right and wrong.

They are not.

We would like to be in a good mood all the time, but when we are in a bad mood, what then? Do we give in to it or do we master it?

I'm not talking about the simple moodiness brought on by lack of sleep or hunger. These are easily resolved. Men, in particular, work better when fed and watered. Nor am I talking about clinical depression, which requires medical intervention. I'm talking about the familiar and periodic blue moods which some people allow to take over their lives and environs.

"That’s just how I am" may, indeed, be true up to a point and up until now, but it is not how we have to be from now on. We are in charge. "I cannot fight my feelings!" is a lie; one can…. and one must.

A positive, optimistic attitude is a vital and integral part of Chassidic doctrine and Jewish living. It is expected of, and achievable by, each of us. The best self-help book on this subject, tried and true, is the Alter Rebbe's Tanya (chapters 26-33).

We hurt ourselves when we feel burdened because of our own moodiness. We hurt those around us who have to walk on eggshells, fearful that we may respond angrily or sullenly. It gets even worse; since moods are contagious, we often elicit a bad mood response from those who are now reacting to our behavior. What a mess!

Consider this image: a toddler, tightly clutching his “bottie,” blankie, and stuffed animal, angrily shrugging, pouting and sucking his thumb. Think: have you ever seen an adult indulging himself the same way? Think again.

We brush our teeth and bathe so as not to inflict what is natural but unpleasant on others; we should grant others the same courtesy regarding our unpleasant moods.

The person who is in a bad mood is miserable. When one is miserable because of a cold, one fights it with all means available (liquids, rest, medicine, etc.). Why would one not do the same for a miserable mood?

The answer is because it is self-indulgent to be moody. Some people are not “happy” unless they are sad and miserable. The moody person sees himself as a victim (of circumstance, people, fate, etc). What’s the payoff? As a victim, he does not have to take responsibility for his behavior. How convenient; why, he doesn’t even have to return phone calls!

The Midrash (Breishis Rabba 34, 10) says that the righteous control their hearts, whereas the wicked allow their hearts to control them. As with all moral matters, it is a choice we make.

Urges, desires, impulses, lusts, feelings and moods, may need to be squelched, harnessed, channeled, guided or directed. We are in charge here.

Life is a battle between the good and the evil, between the selfish and the altruistic, within us. One cannot engage in a battle passively. Not wanting to engage in this battle is surrender; and when we give up, we know who the victor will be.

One can control one's feelings. For example, if one gets a phone call from a friend right in middle of a moody incident, one can smoothly take charge of one’s mood to have a perfectly civil conversation and afterward go right back into the moodiness. We are in charge.

We are even in charge of much more visceral drives. A smoker who claims he is addicted and unable to quit refrains from smoking every Shabbos for 25 hours, and doesn't suffer withdrawal pangs. (I know; I've been there.) When we set our minds to the task, we are often stronger than we expected we would be.

We are not our feelings; we are multifaceted people who, among other things, have feelings. The role of feelings is to help us relate warmly and wholesomely with ourselves and with others. When moody feelings get in the way of this role, they need to be analyzed and realigned.

We can even speak to our feelings in second person (i.e., “you”). The Alter Rebbe (Tanya, chapter 29) instructs a person to address his ‘animal soul’ by saying, "Indeed, you are truly evil and wicked, abominable, loathsome and disgraceful." In other words, “The 'you' is not who 'I' really am; I'm much better than that, so don't bother me.” This is how we must, at times, view our very own feelings: as meddlers and intruders on our better selves.

Each one of us is placed in the world with a unique character, disposition and set of talents. We are also given opportunities and challenges tailored to who we are. This combination defines our mission. Why allow our fickle and constantly changing moods to interfere with our lives?

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