 Parshah Summary – P’shat (literal level) The parshah begins with the Children of Israel encamped in the wilderness of Paran, and Moses sends out twelve spies to the land of Canaan. After forty days, they return with great reports, carrying some of the land’s bounty: an enormous cluster of grapes, a pomegranate and a fig. But, ten of the spies warn that the inhabitants of the land are giants and warriors; only Caleb and Joshua insist that the land can be conquered. The people side with the ten naysayers and complain that they would rather return to Egypt. In response, Hashem decrees that the entire present generation of the Children of Israel will wander in the desert for forty years until they all perish, and only their offspring will enter the Promised Land. When they hear this news, a group of them storms a mountain on the border, but they are swiftly defeated by the Amalekites and Canaanites. Hashem then gives mitzvot about the offerings of grain, wine and oil that their descendants should bring when they enter the land, as well as the mitzvah to consecrate a portion of dough when making bread, which is the origin of challah. Finally, a man is found gathering sticks on Shabbat. In response, the mitzvah of tzitzit, which are special fringes worn on the four corners of garments, is given as a bodily reminder of the mitzvot. Torah of Awakening | Jewish Meditation Teaching שְׁלַח־לְךָ֣ אֲנָשִׁ֗ים וְיָתֻ֙רוּ֙ אֶת־אֶ֣רֶץ כְּנַ֔עַן אֲשֶׁר־אֲנִ֥י נֹתֵ֖ן לִבְנֵ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵ֑ל אִ֣ישׁ אֶחָד֩ אִ֨ישׁ אֶחָ֜ד לְמַטֵּ֤ה אֲבֹתָיו֙ תִּשְׁלָ֔חוּ כֹּ֖ל נָשִׂ֥יא בָהֶֽם׃ Send for yourself people to spy out the land of Canaan that I am giving to the Children of Israel, one person from each of their ancestral tribes you shall send, each one a leader among them... - Bamidbar (Numbers) 13:2, Parshat Bamidbar On the literal level, the Children of Israel stand on the threshold of entering the land, and scouts are sent ahead to investigate. Why is this land is so crucial to the tradition? Because it points to an inner reality – the “land” before which you and I now stand at the threshold. There is a hint in the verse recited before each chapter of Pirkei Avot: :וְעַמֵּךְ כֻּלָּם צַדִּיקִים לְעוֹלָם יִירְשׁוּ־אָרֶץ And your people are all tzaddikim; forever they shall inherit the land. - Isaiah 60:21 The verse connects the idea of the people tzaddikim with their eternal connection with the land. But in what sense are “all” the people tzaddikim? A tzaddik is a spiritually perfected person, and all Jewish people are obviously not spiritually perfected. And yet, according to our tradition (and according to your own experience, if you take the time to notice) there is a level of our being that is untainted by our imperfections: :אֱלֹהַי, נְשָׁמָה שֶׁנָּתַתָּ בִּי טְהוֹרָה הִיא My God, the soul that You have placed within me is pure. Beneath all of our shifting thoughts and feelings, beneath our imperfect personalities, there is a dimension of being that remains untouched: the n’shamah, or soul. The n’shamah is not ambiguous or debatable; it is the awareness that reads these words right now. All experience appears and within it and disappears back into it, yet it is not diminished by any perception; in this sense, every person is already whole at this deepest level of being. And this is why the “tzaddik” inherits the “land” – free from the seductive and dramatic pull of thoughts and feelings, one comes “home” to the present moment; the “Holy Land” is, it turns out, always the place upon which we now stand. What keeps us from entering it? In the story, the spies report that the land is inhabited by giants. They are unable to muster the strength to enter the “land” because they fear the “giants.” But for us, the “giants” are fear! Fear, anxiety, judgement, resentment, and the persistent sense that something is wrong with our situation or with ourselves—these are the “giants” that block a deeper intimacy with life. But there is a way through these obstacles: :רַבָּן גַּמְלִיאֵל הָיָה אוֹמֵר: עֲשֵׂה לְךָ רַב, וְהִסְתַּלֵּק מִן הַסָּפֵק Rabban Gamliel used to say: Make for yourself a teacher, and remove yourself from uncertainty. - Pirkei Avot 1:16 The simple meaning of this aphorism is that a teacher can help us navigate confusion. But on a deeper level, Aseh l’kha rav, “Make for yourself a teacher” means: make whatever is present into your teacher! Furthermore, v’histalek min a safek – “remove yourself from uncertainty” doesn’t mean that we learn more stuff; it means we should stop fixating on what cannot be known. Anxiety thrives on uncertainty because it continually asks questions that have no certain answer. To be anxious is to be tangled in the web of uncertainty, ignoring what we actually can know: the truth of this moment, as it is – the actual flow of life as it is happening, now. When we allow present experience to become our teacher, attention begins to return from imagined futures and unresolved scenarios, into its own inherent Wholeness. We become students of what is rather than prisoners of what might be. Caleb and Joshua represent this deeper realization, and so stand apart from the other spies: ...אַךְ בַּיהוָה אַל־תִּמְרֹדוּ וְאַתֶּם אַל־תִּירְאוּ אֶת־עַם הָאָרֶץ כִּי לַחְמֵנוּ הֵם Do not rebel against Hashem, and do not fear the people of the land, for they are our bread… -Numbers 14:9 What does it mean that “they are our bread?” The very obstacles we fear can become nourishment when we meet them consciously. Fear itself can remind us to return to Presence. Anxiety can become a signal that attention has wandered into an imagined future; emotional pain can be the beacon back to ecstasy. Seen in this way, the “giants” are no longer our enemies; they become our teachers. The “land” is always here. The invitation is always present. The question is whether we will listen to the fearful voices that insist we cannot enter, or whether we will learn to trust that deeper dimension of ourselves: “Your people are all tzaddikim; forever they shall inherit the land.” That is, we come into the sacred ground of this moment through this very simple act of paying attention.
1 Comment
 Parshah Summary – P’shat (literal level) Aaron is instructed to kindle the lamps of the menorah, and the tribe of Levi is initiated into their duties in the Mishkan (Sanctuary). Those who were unable to bring the Pesakh (Passover) offering on the festival, due to being tamei (ritually impure), approach Moses and petition him to be permitted to bring their offerings later. In response, a Pesakh Sheini, a “Second Passover,” is instituted. Israel’s journeys and encampments are then described – they would be guided by the ascending and descending movements of a cloud by day and fire by night over the mishkan. Moses is instructed to make two silver trumpets through which the community would be signaled for journeying, for battle and for festivals. The people then begin moving in formation from Mt. Sinai, where they had been camped for nearly a year. Next, the people complain to Moses about their dissatisfaction with the man (“manna,” the “bread from heaven,”) with which they were miraculously fed in the wilderness, and they demand that Moses provide them with meat. In response, Moses appoints seventy elders to assist him in the burden of governing, and the people are all fed by numerous quail which descend upon the camp. Miriam speaks judgmentally to Aaron about Moses’ wife and questions his leadership. As a consequence, she contracts tzara’at, the skin affliction associated lashon hara (gossip, slander). Moses prays for her healing with the words, El na refa na la, and the entire community waits seven days for her recovery. Torah of Awakening | Jewish Meditation Teaching דַּבֵּר אֶל־אַהֲרֹן וְאָמַרְתָּ אֵלָיו בְּהַעֲלֹתְךָ אֶת־הַנֵּרֹת... Speak to Aaron and say to him: “When you kindle the (Menorah) lamps…” — Bamidbar (Numbers) 8:2 The word בְּהַעֲלֹתְךָ beha’alotkha is normally understood to mean “when you kindle,” but the root of the word is עלה alah, which literally means “to rise,” “to ascend,” or “to elevate.”
Why? On a simple level, it’s a description of the flame that naturally rises upward. But on a deeper level, if we see flame as a metaphor for consciousness, then the “kindling of the lamp” hints at the capacity for consciousness to become “elevated” and transcend the ordinary concerns and preoccupations of the mind. Consciousness is the one essential ingredient behind all experience, but ordinarily it remains in the background. We are hardly aware that we are aware; we are barely conscious of being conscious. But when we witness whatever is present in consciousness on purpose, something remarkable happens: not only are we awakening from our unconscious slumber and recognizing this miracle of being conscious, but we can also realize: we are consciousness. And in this recognition, there is a profound freedom from emotional resistance and drama. Experiences come and go, but we are the unbroken light of awareness within which it all unfolds. Rashi notices something else: he asks why the passage about lighting the Menorah appears immediately after the account of the tribal princes dedicating the Mishkan. His answer comes from Midrash Tanchumah: .כְּשֶׁרָאָה אַהֲרֹן חֲנֻכַּת הַנְּשִׂיאִים חָלְשָׁה אָז דַּעְתּוֹ When Aaron saw the dedication of the princes, his mind weakened. In other words, Aaron became discouraged. The leaders of all the tribes had brought gifts for the inauguration of the Mishkan, but neither he nor his tribe was invited to participate. He felt deflated, left out. But Hashem consoles him: חַיֶּיךָ, שֶׁלְּךָ גְדוֹלָה מִשֶּׁלָּהֶם – “By your life! Yours is greater than theirs.” On the surface, Hashem is simply reassuring Aaron that is his role of tending the sacred lamps is more important than the gifts of the princes. But there is a deeper hint in the phrase: shelkha gedolah mishelahem — literally, “yours is greater from theirs.” Meaning that the gedolah, the greatness that is “yours,” becomes visible when you remove yourself from looking externally at what is “theirs.” In the Midrash, Aaron suffers as a result of comparing himself to the princes. But Hashem points him back toward shelkha — “that which is yours” – the lighting of the menorah, representing the unbroken light of consciousness behind the judging mind and the troubled heart. And this is the message to all of us: when we stop looking over our shoulder at someone else and instead return to what is here, now, the Inner Vastness can reveal itself. There is another layer to Hashem’s response in the Midrash. The princes participated in a one-time dedication ceremony. It was beautiful, meaningful, and perhaps necessary—but it was a single event. Aaron’s task was different: לְהַעֲלֹ֥ת נֵ֖ר תָּמִֽיד׃ …for kindling lamps continuously. - Sh’mot (Exodus) 8:2 Earlier, the Torah describes the lighting of the Menorah as something to be done tamid—continuously. The inauguration happened once, but the lamps had to be tended again and again, day after day; this is the nature of spiritual life. People sometimes long for a dramatic experience: a breakthrough, a revelation, a peak moment of awakening. Yet the deepest transformation is usually found not in a single event but in a continual returning. Again and again we forget; we become lost in thought, comparison, worry, and judgment. But again and again we can return to our Essence as the awareness that reads these words right now. This is the “raising up the lamps” – the bringing of awareness to awareness. We can then shift from being absorbed in the contents of experience to becoming conscious of the experiencing itself; this is meditation. .שֶׁאַתָּה מַדְלִיק וּמֵטִיב אֶת הַנֵּרוֹת – “… for you kindle and ‘make good’ the lamps.” Rashi adds one more detail. Aaron’s greatness lies not only in lighting the lamps but in making them good. The consciousness we seek is not something we create. It is already present. But when we intentionally bring awareness to awareness, when we become truly present to what is arising in this moment, an innate “goodness” reveals itself. This goodness has no opposite, because it that which perceives all opposites – the goodness of wakefulness, of the simple radiance of Being. This is why inner freedom is not found in trying to control our circumstances; it is found in reclaiming our attention. To be free is to discover our sovereignty of awareness, to tend the “lamps” of perception, moment by moment. The flame is already there; as long as we are alive, we are already conscious. Our task is simply to raise it up. 
Parshah Summary – P’shat
The parshah continues with the census taken at Sinai, and completes the counting of 8,580 Levite men between the ages of 30 and 50. The Levites have been separated out from the other tribes to do the work of transporting the Mishkan, and are therefore exempt from the military service required of the men from the other tribes. Moses is then given instructions for purifying the camp which requires certain individuals who have become tamai (ritually unfit) to temporarily leave the camp.
Laws are then given for bringing offerings to atone for certain kinds of theft. Moses is then given the law of the sotah, the situation of a husband suspecting his wife of unfaithfulness. Next, he receives the law of the Nazir. The Nazir is one who has taken on the temporary spiritual practice of renouncing wine and contact with the dead. The Nazir also grows out his or her hair. Aaron and his descendants, the kohanim, are then instructed on how to bless the people with the formula known as the Birkat HaKohanim. The parshah then concludes with an elaborate ceremony for the inauguration of the altar in which leaders of the twelve tribes of Israel each bring a set of identical gifts, each on their own day.
Torah of Awakening | Jewish Meditation Teaching
צַ֚ו אֶת־בְּנֵ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל וִֽישַׁלְּחוּ֙ מִן־הַֽמַּחֲנֶ֔ה כׇּל־צָר֖וּעַ וְכׇל־זָ֑ב וְכֹ֖ל טָמֵ֥א לָנָֽפֶשׁ׃
Command the Children of Israel to send out from the camp every tzarua (one with a particular skin affliction), every zav (one with a bodily discharge) and all who have become tamei (ritually unfit) from a (dead) person… - Bamidbar (Numbers) 5:2, Parshat Naso
Like many Hasidic rebbes, Rabbi Yehudah Zvi of Rozdol was hated by the mainstream rabbis of his day. Once, his wife asked him: “Why don’t you speak out against those who are trying to hurt you? And why is it that you even do them favors when you could be bringing down punishment upon them through the power of your prayer?”
He answered, “Did you ever wonder why people bring the tzaddikim gifts? It is because every building must have a foundation, and without it, the structure cannot stand. Now the structure of the world stands because of the tzaddik, as it is written: וְצַדִּיק יְסוֹד עוֹלָֽם The tzaddik is the foundation of the world – Mishlei (Proverbs) 10:25 And so, it is only right that everybody should support the one who supports everyone. But why should people bring me gifts as well, even though I am no tzaddik? I have thought about this for a long time. Then it occurred to me that the world requires still another foundation. For it is written: תֹּלֶה אֶרֶץ עַל־בְּלִי־מָֽה – The earth hangs upon Nothingness… – Iyov (Job) 26:7 And the Talmud comments on this: The world endures only in the merit of one who restrains oneself during conflict, as it is stated: “The earth hangs upon Nothingness.” (Talmud, Hullin 89a) “So you see,” said Rabbi Yehudah, “It is because people need Nothingness just as much as they need the tzaddik that they support me.” True spiritual strength is not the force of ego defending itself, but the capacity to rest in openness without needing to become the reaction, the argument, the craving, or the story. This is also the essence of meditation. The mind wants to grasp something solid as its foundation — an opinion, an agenda, a self-image. But beneath all of that is a much more reliable source of support: the silence within which it’s all happening. צָר֖וּעַ Tzaru’a means someone with a particular skin affliction, and is associated with lashon hara – gossip and slander. Since the skin is the boundary of a person, but also the place of intimate connection with others, this mythic disease is an expression of relationships getting tarnished through destructive speech, which has its root in negative thinking. זָ֑ב Zav means a person who has had a bodily emission, and is associated with sexuality. Metaphorically, it represents the way sexual thoughts can sometimes be a kind of “reaching” or “grasping” for gratification, which causes a loss of vital energy and Presence. These two represent the polarity of unconsciousness: tzaru’a is negativity (anger, malevolence), and Zav is craving, wanting, grasping, neediness. Both of these lead to an absence of Presence in the body, which brings us to the third: וְכֹ֖ל טָמֵ֥א לָנָֽפֶשׁ -…and all who have become ritually unfit from a (dead) person… To the degree that we become seduced by the energies of “I hate” and “I want,” our bodies become temporarily “dead” to the Divine Presence – that is, the Presence of Being that is not separate from our own innermost being. In order for the body to become a “sanctuary” once again, these forces and the thoughts they produce must be “expelled from the camp” in a sense – we must let go of our addictions to the inner noise and rest upon the Foundation of Silence.
Learn Integral Jewish Meditation
Get Free Guided Meditation Below: 
Text from: Tanya I; Likkutei Amarim 36, 6-10
דִכְתִיב: ״וְלֹא יִכָּנֵף עוֹד מוֹרֶיךָ [פֵּירוּשׁ, שֶׁלֹּא יִתְכַּסֶּה מִמְּךָ בְּכָנָף וּלְבוּשׁ], וְהָיוּ עֵינֶיךָ רוֹאוֹת אֶת מוֹרֶיךָ״, וּכְתִיב: ״כִּי עַיִן בְּעַיִן יִרְאוּ וְגוֹ׳״, וּכְתִיב: ״לֹא יִהְיֶה לָּךְ עוֹד הַשֶּׁמֶשׁ לְאוֹר יוֹמָם וְגוֹ׳, כִּי ה׳ יִהְיֶה לָּךְ לְאוֹר עוֹלָם וְגוֹ.׳״
It is written, “Your teacher shall no longer be concealed from you [literally: (Divinity) will not concealed from you with robe and garment]…but your eyes shall see your Teacher.” (Isaiah 30:20). It is also written, “For they shall see eye to Eye…” (Isaiah 52:8) and “You shall no longer have the sun for light by day…for Hashem shall be to you for an everlasting light….” (Isaiah 60:19-20).
וְנוֹדָע, שֶׁיְּמוֹת הַמָּשִׁיחַ, וּבִפְרָט כְּשֶׁיִּחְיוּ הַמֵּתִים, הֵם תַּכְלִית וּשְׁלֵימוּת בְּרִיאַת עוֹלָם הַזֶּה, שֶׁלְּכָךְ נִבְרָא מִתְּחִילָּתוֹ
It is well known that the Messianic Era, and especially the time of the Resurrection of the Dead, is the fulfillment and culmination of the creation of the world, for which purpose it was originally created.
וְגַם כְּבָר הָיָה לְעוֹלָמִים מֵעֵין זֶה, בִּשְׁעַת מַתַּן תּוֹרָה, כְּדִכְתִיב: ״אַתָּה הָרְאֵתָ לָדַעַת כִּי ה׳ הוּא הָאֱלֹהִים אֵין עוֹד מִלְּבַדּוֹ״ – ״הָרְאֵתָ״ מַמָּשׁ, בִּרְאִיָּה חוּשִׁיִּית, כְּדִכְתִיב: ״וְכָל הָעָם רוֹאִים אֶת הַקּוֹלוֹת״ – ״רוֹאִים אֶת הַנִּשְׁמָע.״
And also, there was already something like this for the worlds, at the time of the Giving of the Torah, as is written, “You have been shown to know that the Hashem is Elohim; there is nothing else besides”—“have been shown” literally with physical vision, as is written, “And all the people saw the sounds”—they saw what is [normally] heard.
וּפֵירְשׁוּ רַבּוֹתֵינוּ־זִכְרוֹנָם־ לִבְרָכָה: מִסְתַּכְּלִים לַמִּזְרָח וְשׁוֹמְעִין אֶת הַדִּבּוּר יוֹצֵא אָנֹכִי כוּ׳. וְכֵן לְאַרְבַּע רוּחוֹת וּלְמַעְלָה וּלְמַטָּה, וְכִדְפֵירְשׁוּ בַּתִּיקּוּנִים ״דְּלֵית אֲתַר דְּלָא מַלֵּיל מִינֵּיהּ עִמְּהוֹן כוּ׳״.
And the Rabbis, of blessed memory, explained, “They looked eastward and heard the speech issuing forth: ‘I Am,’ etc., and so [turning] toward the four points of the compass, and upward and downward,” as is also explained in the Tikkunim that “There was no place from which Hashem did not speak to them….”
וְהַיְינוּ, מִפְּנֵי גִּילּוּי רְצוֹנוֹ יִתְבָּרֵךְ בַּעֲשֶׂרֶת הַדִּבְּרוֹת, שֶׁהֵן כְּלָלוּת הַתּוֹרָה, שֶׁהִיא פְּנִימִית רְצוֹנוֹ יִתְבָּרֵךְ וְחָכְמָתוֹ, וְאֵין שָׁם הֶסְתֵּר פָּנִים כְּלָל, כְּמוֹ שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר: ״כִּי בְאוֹר פָּנֶיךָ נָתַתָּ לָּנוּ תּוֹרַת חַיִּים״.
This was so because of the revelation of the Divine Will of the Blessed One, in the Aseret HaDibrot constituting the essence of the whole Torah, which is the Innermost Will of the Blessed One and the Divine Wisdom, wherein there is no concealment of the Face at all, as is written, “For by the light of Your Face You gave us the Torah of life.” (Liturgy, Amidah Prayer)
This passage from the hasidic text, Tanya, points to a single possibility: that human beings can awaken from the trance of the “ordinary” and behold the miracle of Being Itself in all Its transcendent incomprehensibility. This is the meaning behind all of these prophetic descriptions of the Messianic Era – “Your eyes shall see your Teacher,” “they shall see eye to eye,” and “Hashem shall be your everlasting light.” These are not merely predictions about distant future events; they are descriptions of a transformation that is possible now.
The text says that the Divine is ordinarily concealed behind “robe and garment,” as though reality itself is veiled behind layers of covering. The ordinary mind imagines this concealment as if God were some hidden object somewhere “out there,” blocked from our perception by a cosmic curtain. But from the perspective of meditation practice, the “concealment” is not something external – it is our own conditioning. Our thoughts, habits, assumptions, emotional reactions, and endless mental preoccupations create the “veil.” We have become so accustomed to life that we are unable to actually behold it; but there is Way out of this conditioning, to realization, to a profound awakening to What is right in front of (and within) us. Awakening in the spiritual sense does not mean seeing a different world; it means seeing this world differently. The trees, the sky, the faces around us – we have seen them all uncountable times, yet everything becomes luminous with Presence when we let go of time. The ordinary moment reveals itself as Extraordinary. The familiar becomes the miraculous. One wakes in the morning not merely into another day of burdens and routines, but into a living reality shimmering with wonder. This, says the Tanya, is the essence of the Messianic vision. These “days of Moshiach” to which time moves us represents the fulfillment of creation itself. Why does the world exist? Why has consciousness evolved through countless forms of life until human beings emerged with the capacity for self-awareness and awe? The purpose, perhaps, is precisely this unfolding recognition: that existence itself is Divine, that the apparent multiplicity of life is rooted in a deeper unity. The text explains that Matan Torah, the giving of the Torah at Sinai, offered humanity a taste of this realization. “All the people saw the sounds.” They perceived what is normally hidden. The opening of the Ten Commandments, “Anokhi – I Am,” was heard from every direction simultaneously, driving home the point: God is the inner identity of all things. And this is why Torah is called Torat Hayim, Torah of Life. The purpose of Torah is not merely belief or doctrine, but awakening to this Presence that is Ever-Present. It is meant to help us remember what we forget again and again: that beneath the anxiety, irritation, judgement and self-concern there remains an ever-present miracle shining through Existence Itself. Sometimes people glimpse this Reality spontaneously – through beauty, through love, through meditation, even through hallucinogenics, when the ordinary structures of consciousness temporarily fall away. But a fleeting experience is not yet transformation. For awakening to become a way of life, it must be integrated through practice, contemplation, prayer, and continual returning. We need both the opening of consciousness and the inner wisdom that stabilizes and deepens it. The deepest “resurrection,” then, is not be something that happens after death, but something available in this very moment: the “resurrection” from spiritual sleep into aliveness; the “resurrection” of opening our eyes and truly behold the living Presence that shines from all things. This is the beginning of redemption – redemption from the ego-centered mode of being to a God-centered mode of Being.
Learn Integral Jewish Meditation
Get Free Guided Meditation Below: 
כְּגַוְונָא דָּא, (תהילים ק׳:ב׳) עִבְדוּ אֶת יְיָ' בְּשִׂמְחָה. חֶדְוָה דְּבַּר נָשׁ, מָשִׁיךְ לְגַבֵּיהּ חֶדְוָה אַחֲרָא עִלָּאָה הָכִי נָמֵי הַאי עָלְמָא תַּתָּאָה, כְּגַוְונָא דְּאִיהִי אִתְעַטְּרָת, הָכִי אַמְשִׁיךְ מִלְעֵילָּא.
As it is written, “Worship the Divine in joy” (Ps. 100, 2), that the joy of a person may draw down upon them supernal joy. So, too, does the lower sphere affect the upper: according to the degree of awakening below there is awakening and heavenly joy above. — Zohar II, 184b; Tetzaveh 11, 94
At first, this can sound like a description of some distant metaphysical system: we create joy below, and then a corresponding joy descends from some supernal realm above. But the deeper meaning is something we can verify directly in our own experience: the “upper world” need not be understood as a place somewhere else, but rather, as the dimension of awareness itself — the field of consciousness within which all experience arises. Awareness is always present; every thought, emotion, sensation, and perception appears within it. But usually, awareness remains in the background while our attention is absorbed in the movements of mind and emotion. We are busy thinking, reacting, judging, resisting.
But when we intentionally practice awareness — when we become present on purpose — something changes. The qualities inherent within awareness begin to infuse our lived experience: spaciousness, receptivity, intimacy, unburdened openness. The act of becoming present is the “awakening below” – our intentional turning toward whatever is present. The “awakening above” is then the blossoming forth of the deeper qualities already inherent within awareness itself, including joy. In order to awaken the “upper joy,” we need not “pretend to be happy.” Joy in the deeper sense is not forced positivity. Rather, it arises naturally when we live in the moment for its own sake. When we consciously open to life as it happens, we become receptive to the deeper joy that isn’t dependent on any circumstance or on “getting what we want.” – the lower movement awakens the higher. Or perhaps more accurately: when we create inner space through Presence, the deeper joy that was always present can fully reveal itself.
Learn Integral Jewish Meditation
Get Free Guided Meditation Below: 
Parshah Summary – P’shat (literal level)
The parshah opens on Mount Sinai (b’har – “on the mountain”) with the laws of the Sabbatical year: every seventh year, all work on the land should cease, and its produce becomes free for all to take, human and beast alike…
Seven Sabbatical cycles are followed by a fiftieth year— the Yovel, the “Jubilee” year, on which, in addition to ceasing work on the land, all indentured servants are set free, and all ancestral estates that have been sold revert to their original owners. Additional laws governing the sale of lands, and the prohibitions against fraud and usury, are also given…
Torah of Awakening | Jewish Meditation Teaching
What is non-duality? Or as it says in the language of Torah, that God is One? The affirmation of Divine Oneness is the central practice of Judaism underlying everything else – but what does it really mean? And what is the connection between non-duality and the festival of Lag B’Omer? There is a wonderful hint in a Torah verse from Parshat Behar, which talks about the Sabbath of the earth that happens every seven years: וַיְדַבֵּ֤ר יְיְ אֶל־מֹשֶׁ֔ה בְּהַ֥ר סִינַ֖י לֵאמֹֽר׃ דַּבֵּ֞ר אֶל־בְּנֵ֤י יִשְׂרָאֵל֙ וְאָמַרְתָּ֣ אֲלֵהֶ֔ם כִּ֤י תָבֹ֙אוּ֙ אֶל־הָאָ֔רֶץ אֲשֶׁ֥ר אֲנִ֖י נֹתֵ֣ן לָכֶ֑ם וְשָׁבְתָ֣ה הָאָ֔רֶץ שַׁבָּ֖ת לַיי׃ שֵׁ֤שׁ שָׁנִים֙ תִּזְרַ֣ע שָׂדֶ֔ךָ וְשֵׁ֥שׁ שָׁנִ֖ים תִּזְמֹ֣ר כַּרְמֶ֑ךָ וְאָסַפְתָּ֖ אֶת־תְּבוּאָתָֽהּ׃ The Divine spoke to Moses on Mt. Sinai saying, “Speak to the children of Israel and say to them, ‘When you come into the land that I give you, the land shall rest – a Shabbat for the Divine. Six years you shall sow your fields and six years you shall prune your vineyards and gather in your yields…’” - Vayikra (Leviticus) 25:5-6; Parshat Behar
What does this Shabbat of the earth have to do non-duality and Lag b’Omer?
Lag b’Omer means the “thirty-third day of the Omer,” referring to the practice of counting the days between Pesakh and Shavuot. Lag is lamed ל – gimel ג, thirty-three. (Hebrew letters have numerical values; lamed ל is thirty, gimel ג is three.) These two letters, lamed ל – gimel ג, also have meanings: Lamed ל means “learn.” To learn means to go from a state of less knowledge to more knowledge; it is forward moving in time, filling a lack, going from incomplete to more complete without end, never reaching completion (since there is, of course, always more to learn). Gimel ג has the opposite connotation. As a verb, the word gamal means to “pay back.” When you’re able to pay someone back, then not only do you have enough for yourself, but you have extra to pay back someone else – so in this sense, gamal represents not only a state of completeness but of overflowing-ness. As a noun, a gamal is a camel, which carries its water in its hump as it traverses the desert; again, a symbol of being already-complete-within-oneself. These two opposite meanings – the never-complete of lamed ל and the always-already-complete of gimel ג – point to two dimensions of our experience, right now. On the level of form, we are ever-incomplete. Our bodies need constant nourishment and exercise, and our minds must actively learn new things and have new experiences to stay sharp. This is reflected in the ongoing spiritual practice of studying texts and contemplating meanings with the thinking mind. And this brings us back to the first half of our verse: שֵׁ֤שׁ שָׁנִים֙ תִּזְרַ֣ע שָׂדֶ֔ךָ וְשֵׁ֥שׁ שָׁנִ֖ים תִּזְמֹ֣ר כַּרְמֶ֑ךָ וְאָסַפְתָּ֖ אֶת־תְּבוּאָתָֽהּ׃ Six years you shall sow your fields and six years you shall prune your vineyards and gather in your yields…’” Six years you shall sow (tizra) your fields… Tizra תִּזְרַ֣ע, “sowing” or “seeding” is the work we must do on the “fields” of our minds. This is lamed ל, “learning.” But on the level of consciousness, the open space of awareness within which all experience comes and goes, there is a direct sense of completeness to this moment; there is a wholeness available to us when we “arrive” into the present. This is the gimel ג. But to experience this fullness, we paradoxically need more emptiness; we need to “prune” away excess thought, so that we can sense the underlying Presence beneath our thoughts – which brings us to the second part of our verse: וְשֵׁ֥שׁ שָׁנִ֖ים תִּזְמֹ֣ר כַּרְמֶ֑ךָ – six years you shall prune (tizmor) your vinyards… Tizmor תִּזְמֹ֣ר, “pruning,” is the work we must do on “grapevine tendrils” of our own thinking minds; this is meditation. “Sowing” and “pruning,” learning and meditation, thinking and not-thinking, are non-duality in practice, because together they comprise two sides of the same transformative coin. Now let’s look at the repeating phrase that introduces both sides of this inseparable duality: שֵׁ֤שׁ שָׁנִים֙ תִּזְרַ֣ע שָׂדֶ֔ךָ וְשֵׁ֥שׁ שָׁנִ֖ים תִּזְמֹ֣ר כַּרְמֶ֑ךָ Six years you shall sow your fields and six years you shall prune your vineyards… The word shanim, “years,” also can mean “change.” “Six” also represents change, as in the story of the “six days of creation” in which the universe is developed stage by stage. Furthermore, the Hebrew letter that represents the number six is vav ו which, as a prefix, means “and” – again, implying adding, transforming, doing the dual spiritual work of “sowing” and “pruning.” But there is also a level at which all work stops. It stops not because the “sowing” and “pruning” are no longer happening, but because at this deep level, there is the recognition that is not “me” who does the work; there is the recognition that everything comes from and returns to the same Reality; we can’t “take credit” for any of it. This level is represented by Lag B’Omer. In terms of the sefirot, Lag B’Omer is Hod Sheb’Hod, or “Humility of Humility.” What is humility? The essence of humility is not some kind of self-deprecation or belittlement; it is the recognition that the “me” comes from beyond “me.” Existence is a gift, everything I have and everything I am is a gift; this is the inner dimension of Shabbat. וְשָׁבְתָ֣ה הָאָ֔רֶץ שַׁבָּ֖ת לַיי: – The land will rest a Shabbat for the Divine… This is the deeper, non-dual dimension of the practice, which we do not instead of sowing and pruning, learning and meditating, but while we’re learning and meditating. It is the simple recognition of the One in the midst of duality. And not just in learning and meditating, but you can “let the land rest a Shabbat for the Divine” any time. Before you learn, before you meditate, before you do the dishes, whatever – take a moment to recognize Reality, to simply stop, to let the “me” dissolve and let this moment be One. This is non-duality – the recognition of Divine Oneness, in and as this moment, just as it is.
Read past teachings on Behar HERE
Learn Integral Jewish Meditation
Get Free Guided Meditation Below: 
Our Teacher, the Elder (the Alter Rebbe) – during the years that he would speak short teachings – said: “‘Know what is above you.’ (Avot 2:1) Meaning, you should know that all which is l’mala –‘above’ – in the transcendent s’firot and partzufim (Divine qualities and personas), all of it is mimkha – ‘from you’ – dependent on human avodah (spiritual practice).”
This radical Hasidic teaching takes a well-known mishna from Pirkei Avot and turns it on its head through a clever word play. The original aphorism says, “Know what is above you” – meaning simply that we should keep God in mind. But the Hebrew idiom for “what is above you,” mah l’mala mimkha – literally means, “what is above, is from you.” So instead of reading it according to the plain meaning of the idiom, “know what is above you,” he’s reading it very literally: “know that what is above you is actually from you” – meaning that God somehow comes from us – arising from, or created by, or dependent upon – us. What could this possibly mean? It sounds like it’s saying that we create God! How could this be? To understand, it is helpful to remember that there are two different modes of talking about the Divine: Ontological and Relational. The ontological mode refers to God’s existence, or being-ness. Normally, the religious person believes that God exists, and the atheist doesn’t believe that God exists. However, the esoteric understanding of God breaks down this duality, because in Kabbalah and Hasidut, God doesn’t exist, God is Existence; God is Being Itself – as the Torah says, Ayn Od – “There is nothing else” – meaning not that there are no other gods besides God, but rather that there is nothing else except God. And also Hashem Ekhad – “God is One” – meaning not that there is only one god, but that there is One God Only – God is All That Is. In this understanding, “God” is synonymous with Existence, Being, or Reality in the ontological sense. But if God is really just Existence, Being, or Reality, then why don’t we just call It Existence, Being, or Reality? Why bring the word “God” into it at all? Because “God” is also a relational word – “God” describes not merely something that exists, but the way in which we relate to that which exists. “God” is, we might say, the deification of Reality. What does that mean? To “deify” means to have reverence for, to surrender to, to hold up as supremely sacred. In this relational sense, Reality becomes God when we step into sacred relationship with It. So what does it mean to step into relationship with Reality as God? It means that this moment becomes the arena in which we meet the One; it means that the fullness of all that arises in our field of awareness, all experience as it appears now, consists of God’s words to us. It means that the movement of our breathing Now is received as a Divine gift. In this way, our words and actions become imbued with a new depth of intention to do our part in the relationship, to make our response beautiful and bring harmony to the dance of the ever-changing moment. This beautifying quality of Presence-In-Action is represented by the s’firah of Tiferet.
Learn Integral Jewish Meditation
Get Free Guided Meditation Below: 
מוֹרֵנוּ הַבַּעַל שֵׁם טוֹב אָמַר: כָּל דָּבָר וְדָבָר אֲשֶׁר הָאָדָם רוֹאֶה אוֹ שׁוֹמֵעַ, הוּא הוֹרָאַת הַנְהָגָה בַּעֲבוֹדַת הַשֵּׁם. וְזֶהוּ עִנְיַן הָעֲבוֹדָה, לְהָבִין וּלְהַשְׂכִּיל מִכָּל דֶּרֶךְ בַּעֲבוֹדַת הַשֵּׁם.
Our teacher the Baal Shem Tov said: Every single thing one sees or hears is an instruction for how to be led in the service of the Divine. This is the essence of avodah – to comprehend and discern from everything a path in which to serve Hashem. - HaYom Yom 9 Iyar, Rabbi Yosef Yitzhak Shneerson This beautiful and radical teaching of the Baal Shem Tov has two different levels of meaning: on the surface, it’s saying that “everything you see and hear” is an instruction for your Avodat Hashem (service of God, or spiritual practice). If you look and listen carefully, you will receive a message from God about what you need to do – implying that everyone can be a prophet, at least in the sense of one’s own personal connection with the Divine. But look carefully – it’s actually saying something even more radical: not that within everything you see and hear is an instruction for your avodah, but rather, that whatever you see and hear can instruct you in how to be led in your avodah. In other words, the “seeing” and “hearing” themselves lead us into our spiritual practice. Why? Because “seeing” and “hearing” are forms of paying attention, and the essence of Avodat Hashem IS the act of paying attention! This is clarified by the next sentence, which says that the inyan – the essence or the point of Avodat Hashem – to find your Avodat Hashem in everything. With other endeavors this is not the case: when a doctor seeks to diagnose an illness, the point is not the seeking; the point is the diagnosis. When I have tech problems with my computer and I seek a solution, the point is the solution, not the seeking of the solution. But in this case, the seeking and the finding are one; the paying attention is itself the practice, and Everything we see and hear is “instructing” us in how to be “led” into this essential practice. This teaching is so clever because on the literal level, if we try to receive a message about our Avodat Hashem by paying close attention to everything we see and hear, then the effect will be that we become very attentive to the moment; we will become present. Then, once we are in this state of deep Presence, a profound shift begins to happen; the sacred Oneness blossoms into our lived experience, and we can recognize: this attentiveness is itself is the practice. Our Avodat Hashem is not something to do at some future time, but rather, this heightened alertness in the moment is the point. In Presence, we stand at Sinai once again; this is meditation.
Learn Integral Jewish Meditation
Get Free Guided Meditation Below: 
Teaching & Guided Meditation
בִּגְדֵי־קֹ֣דֶשׁ הֵ֔ם וְרָחַ֥ץ בַּמַּ֛יִם אֶת־בְּשָׂר֖וֹ וּלְבֵשָֽׁם׃ They are sacred vestments; he shall wash his body in water and then don them. - Leviticus (Vayikra) 16:4 Rabbi Yosef Yitzhak gives us a profound and practical teaching on this verse, from the collection of teachings known as HaYom Yom: From a siha of my father (Rabbi Shalom Dov Ber Shneerson): Hasidut demands that one “...wash their flesh (et b’saro) with water, and clothe oneself in them (the priestly robes).” The power of the mind is the element of Hasidut that “washes” the body and rinses away the impulses coming from the body. These impulses are alluded to by the word et in the quoted verse, signifying that which is comes from the body, meaning: the impulses that emanate from the body. Only then can one “clothe” oneself in the “sacred garments.” Contemplating Hasidut, discussing Hasidut, and the practice of hasidim to meditate (hitbonenut) before davening – these are the “sacred garments,” that are given to us from the heights of holiness. But it is we who must “wash their flesh with water...” Meaning: the “garments of the soul” are given to us from Above. But “washing away” distracting and destructive impulses and making the body itself holy – this is achieved by one’s own efforts. This is what Hasidut demands; it is for this ideal that our great teacher (the Alter Rebbe) devoted himself totally and selflessly. He opened the channel of total devotion, sacrifice, for serving Hashem through prayer, to be bound up with the Essence of the Ayn Sof, the Infinite Divine. Hasidut places a hasid face to face with the Essence of the Ayn Sof. On the surface, the above quoted verse is merely a description of how a kohen (priest) must prepare for service in the Mishkan (Tabernacle), or later, the Beit Hamikdash (Temple): before putting on the sacred garments, he must first wash himself in water. But on a deeper level, both “washing” and “donning sacred garments” are metaphors for particular practices, which we might call the two stages of meditation. וּלְבֵשָֽׁם – …and don the sacred garments. The “garments” consist of hitbonenut – the contemplative practice of bringing into awareness that there is only Hashem, and that everything is part of the Divine. This is the recognition we must cultivate before “entering the temple” – that is, engaging in prayer. But there is a problem – this level of consciousness is easily blocked by the ordinary concerns, stresses, and pains of life. That’s why we first need to “wash with water.” וְרָחַ֥ץ בַּמַּ֛יִם אֶת־בְּשָׂר֖וֹ – v’rahatz bamayim et b’saro – he shall wash his body in water… To “wash the body” means not the physical body, but the inner world of impulses, thoughts, and emotions that arise from it. Here Rabbi Yosef Yitzhak does an interpretive play on אֶת et. The word אֶת et doesn’t translate into English; it simply indicates the direct object of the sentence. But the two letters alef and tav are the first and last letters of the alphabet, representing the whole world. And so “washing et the body” means cleaning out our inner world. But how do we do that? On this the text is silent. However, the simplest way to approach this is through the breath. When you bring your attention to the sensation of breathing—just noticing it, not trying to change it—something begins to shift. All the mental noise, the emotional turbulence, the background tension—it begins to clear. It’s like when the air is full of dust or smog, and then it rains. The rain pulls out all the impurities, and the air becomes fresh, clean and cool; awareness of breathing can function in the same way. In the morning, before doing anything, notice what’s going on in your mind; notice what you’re feeling. Then, bring your attention to the sensation of breathing; this is the first stage of meditation: “washing.” From here, see how your consciousness shifts, how a deeper contemplation of the Reality becomes possible. “What is this Reality I am now meeting? What is this Reality that I Am? Is it not the One Reality present in all things?” This deeper contemplation of the Divine Oneness is the second stage, hitbonenut: “Donning the Sacred Garments.” From here, we are ready to “enter the temple” – prayer becomes authentic, real, and transformative – not mere words and ritual obligations: Modeh/Modah Ani Lefanekha – I give thanks before You for returning my soul…
Learn Integral Jewish Meditation
Get Free Guided Meditation Below: 
Teaching & Guided Meditation
The festival of Pesakh is a remembrance and celebration of the Exodus from Egypt. But in Kabbalah and Hasidic teaching, this is not only the Exodus that happened on the physical level 3,300+ years ago, but rather, it is a symbol for spiritual liberation, which is also the goal of many different esoteric traditions.
Nowadays, this idea is not unusual – it is common to see the Exodus as a symbol for some kind of spiritual or psychological freedom, as well as political freedom for people around the world. And part of the life of a Passover seder is the sharing of different views and opinions around the table on what it all means. And while that’s all wonderful, it leaves us with a question: What is spiritual freedom really? Is it just whatever you want it to be or think that it might be? And if we turn to different contemporary spiritual teachers about this question, it gets even more confusing. There’s a story that was told by the infamous guru Osho, that a student came to his master by a river and asked, “How do I achieve Liberation?” The master grabbed his head, pushed it down under the water, held him there for a few moments and then let him to come up for air. He said to the disciple, “When you want Liberation as much as you wanted to come up for air, that’s when you’ll achieve it.” Contrast that with the often-repeated instruction of the well-known enlightenment teacher Adyashanti, who often instructs his students to simply “let everything be as it is.” It’s hard to imagine two teachings being more opposite of each other. Which is it? Fight for your life? Or let everything be as it is? The answer is hidden within the haftarah reading for Shabbat Pesakh – an amazing passage from the Book of Ezekiel, which describes a scene that sounds like it’s directly out of zombie movie. Ezekiel says (in chapter 37) Hashem’s hand came upon me. I was taken out by the Divine Spirit (Ruakh Hashem) and set down in the valley. It was full of bones. I was led all around them; there were very many of them spread over the valley, and they were very dry. I was asked, “Son of Adam, can these bones live again?” I replied, “O my Sovereign Divine, only You know.” And I was told, “Prophesy over these bones and say to them: O dry bones, hear the word of Hashem! Thus says the Sovereign Divine to these bones: ‘I will cause breath (ruakh) to enter you and you shall live again. I will lay sinews upon you, and cover you with flesh, and form skin over you. And I will put breath (ruakh) into you, and you shall live again. And you shall know that I am Hashem!’” I prophesied as I had been instructed. And while I was prophesying, suddenly there was a sound of rattling, and the bones came together, bone to matching bone. I looked, and there were sinews on them, and flesh had grown, and skin had formed over them; but there was no breath (ruakh) in them. Then [Hashem] said to me, “Prophesy to the breath (ruakh), prophesy, O son of Adam! Say to the breath (ruakh): Thus said the Sovereign Divine: ‘Come, O breath (ruakh) from the four winds (rukhot), and breathe into these slain, that they may live again.’” I prophesied as I was commanded. The breath (ruakh) entered them, and they came to life and stood up on their feet, a vast multitude. And I was told, “O son of Adam, these bones are the whole House of Israel. They say, ‘Our bones are dried up, our hope is gone; we are doomed.’ Prophesy, therefore, and say to them: Thus said the Sovereign Divine: ‘I am going to open your graves and lift you out of the graves, O My people, and bring you to the earth (Admat) of Israel. You shall know, O My people, that I am Hashem, when I have opened your graves and lifted you out of your graves. I will put My breath (rukhi) into you and you shall live again, and I will set you upon your own earth (admatkhem). Then you shall know that I, Hashem, have spoken and have acted’”—the Word of Hashem. There’s so much going on here, but I want to look at something in the underlying structure that’s easy to miss. When the bones are about to be resurrected, God says to Ezekiel, “I will put My Ruakh (breath) into them.” But then, God tells Ezekiel to call upon the four winds, and we get the sense that the Divine breath is the four winds. Why four winds? Because as we look through the whole narrative, there are actually four different kinds of Ruakh that are mentioned. Let’s look at each of them. The first is called a Ruakh Hashem – understood in context as the “Divine Spirit,” so ruakh here has the meaning not of breath or wind, but of inspiration, which in English can mean “motivation” or “insight,” but is also related to breathing. This Ruakh Hashem is the initial impulse that Ezekiel feels to be the Divine conduit for what is about to happen. The second type of ruakh is God’s own breath that will enter the bones to bring them back to life. The third type of ruakh describes actual wind, the four winds of the earth, and these are somehow equated with God’s breath Lastly, we have a very strange anomaly. Flesh and skin miraculously grow over the bones and everyone is resurrected. They all stand up, alive and able to speak. But what do they say? Do they thank God for bringing them back to life? Do they sing hymns and prayers for the miracle of coming back from the dead? No! Instead they complain: “Our bones are dried up, our hope is gone; we are doomed.” How can this be? Of course, if they were really dead, they wouldn’t be saying anything. Now that they’re alive, they’re kvetching that they’re dead! But God give them a promise: “My breath will enter and you will live again.” Live again? But they are already alive; it seems to not make any sense. But this is the whole point: we are given physical life, but we’re so distracted that we don’t even notice it! We don’t even appreciate it! We are “enslaved by Egypt,” the Mitzrayim of our thoughts and feelings, of our lives in time. And so, the only way we can be truly alive spiritually is to want it more than anything. More than all our cares and worries, more than all our aspirations, our fears, our regrets, our goals, we need to want Liberation. Why? Because letting go of your distractions and preoccupations takes tremendous will and focus. Fortunately, we have a wonderful tool: I will put My breath into you and you shall live. In other words, bring your awareness into your breathing, feel the Divine gift of each breath, allowing everything to be just as it is, and you become spiritually alive, resurrected from the deadening inertia of unconsciousness, and reborn into Presence. And this is the paradox: we need tremendous will and commitment; we need to want it like we would want air with our heads held under water. But the practice itself is the exact opposite – it is a letting go, an allowing of things to be as they are, a resting of awareness moment to moment on the simple act of breathing. And in this simple synthesis of letting go and focus, of will and surrender in one, is the true Exodus – the “going out” from the burdens and dramas of life in time, “coming in” to Life in Presence, Barukh Hashem.
Read past teachings on Passover HERE
Learn Integral Jewish Meditation
Get Free Guided Meditation Below: |
Free Integral Jewish Meditation Instructional Recordings Here.
Daily Meditation on Zoom: Experience our growing community Here Archives
June 2026
|
RSS Feed