There is a Jewish tradition that teaches: If you are going to do something, you should do it beautifully. Not just well, but beautifully.

This week’s Torah portion is about two kinds of beauty, both of which, I believe, are essential for a life well lived.

The first expression of beauty is external. Through Moses, God commanded the Children of Israel to create a Mishkan, a tabernacle, in the desert. This week’s reading is nearly identical to one earlier in Exodus, in which God made the famous statement, “make for me a dwelling place that I might abide amongst you.”

It’s interesting that this is not repeated this week, and yet the people responded enthusiastically to the request to donate beautiful things for the Mishkan.

Perhaps they didn’t need the promise of God‘s presence, simply the injunction to make something beautiful. I wonder; is it possible that we humans are hard-wired with the urge to create and enjoy beauty?

In fact, the people were so happy to support the project that they continued, morning after morning, to bring items to help create the Mishkan. They brought so much that the artisans who were working on the project told Moses that the people had brought too much, and Moses had to tell them to stop.

This brings us to the second kind of beauty. It is the beauty within. It is the innate desire to participate in something beautiful, to uplift oneself, and hopefully others as well.

I am reminded of Stephen Dubner’s sign-off line from the Freakonomics radio podcast: “Take care of yourself. And if you can, someone else too.”

Dubner reminds us that self-care is vitally important, and yet it is not all that we should aspire to. If we can — if we have the strength, inner resources, and desire — we can spread a different kind of beauty in the world.

I love the idea of being expected to create beauty, whether or not I am an artist or artisan, dancer or musician, writer or singer.

Every year as my birthday draws near, Facebook suggests that I ask people to make donations to a favorite charity in my name. Instead, every year I ask people to commit an act of random kindness.

I don’t want my friends to make a donation. I want them to experience beauty.

The key to kindness is not the act itself. It is doing the act beautifully. With grace. With joy. Unselfishly. With, as the Bible says, “a wise heart.”

May we all be so blessed.

Postscript: Two weeks ago I wrote about Zimra, my companion dog. This week while I was in New York studying, she took terribly ill, and I rushed home to Florida to be with her. Fortunately, she is recovering well. Some of you knew of our situation, and I thank you for your good wishes and healing prayers.