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Integral Kabbalah for the Days of Awe
Class #10: HESED – Lovingkindness Adon HaSlikhot 
אָ֠נֹכִי עֹמֵ֨ד בֵּין־יְהוָ֤ה וּבֵֽינֵיכֶם֙
I stood between the Divine and you…
In this verse, Moses is recounting to the Israelites how, when they all stood at Sinai, he mediated between the Divine and the people. But the early Hassidic master, Rabbi Yekhiel Mikhal of Zlotchov, had a novel interpretation of this verse: he taught that the “I” is what “stands” between us and the Divine! In other words, it is the sense of “me” as a separate entity, and particularly the asserting of the “I” that acts as a barrier, preventing connection with the Divine Oneness. On the other hand, for one who offers their “I” to the Divine, there is no barrier; as the verse from Shir Hashirim says: אֲנִ֤י לְדוֹדִי֙ ודוֹדִ֣י לִי I am my Beloved’s and Beloved is mine…
This “offering” of the “I” is an aspect of meditation. In our practice, we begin by offering our awareness to the Divine as It manifests in and as this moment, invoking the quality of Hesed (Lovingkindness) from within as a quality of Presence. The verse above is also associated with the month of Elul leading up to Rosh Hashanah, as the initials of the verse spell Elul: אֲנִ֤י לְדוֹדִי֙ ודוֹדִ֣י לִי אלול This framing of Elul (the month leading up to Rosh Hashanah) as a time of intimate connection with the Divine as “Beloved” forms a counterpoint to the traditional imagery of Rosh Hashanah, which describes the Divine as a lofty king who sits in judgement. The Hassidic teaching bridges these two opposite images; when we offer ourselves to the Divine in attentive surrender to the present moment as it is, relating to Reality as “king” and “dethroning” our own “I” (ego), there can then arise a sense of intimacy with the Presence that is ever-present, and Being Itself becomes the Beloved. Then, from this sense of Divine intimacy, there can also arise the realization of reciprocity: Not only do we offer our “I” to the Divine, but the Divine has already offered Its “I” to us! Meaning – this consciousness that we are is nothing but the “I” of Existence Itself, awake in this body, as our own awareness. In this way, our expression of Hesed toward the Divine leads to our realization that we have been the recipients of God’s Hesed all along. This realization is expressed in the mishna: הוּא הָיָה אוֹמֵר, חָבִיב אָדָם שֶׁנִּבְרָא בְצֶלֶם. חִבָּה יְתֵרָה נוֹדַעַת לוֹ שֶׁנִּבְרָא בְצֶלֶם, כִּי בְּצֶלֶם אֱלֹהִים עָשָׂה אֶת הָאָדָם שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר He (Rabbi Akiva) used to say: “Beloved are human beings for they were created in the Divine image. Extra beloved that it was made known to them that they are created in the Divine image! As it is said: ‘for in the image of ELOHIM, humanity was made.’”
בְּצֶלֶם אֱלֹהִים – Betzelem Elohim – in the image of God – meaning not that God looks like a person, because God is by definition beyond form, but rather that we give an image to Divine, because we are not separate from the Divine; the Divine manifests as us. This is the great Hesed of simply being that we are constantly being blessed with. But it an even greater Hesed that we can realize and appreciate this simple fact! There is a hint about this in the parshah: וַיֵּ֖לֶךְ מֹשֶׁ֑ה וַיְדַבֵּ֛ר אֶת־הַדְּבָרִ֥ים הָאֵ֖לֶּה אֶל־כָּל־יִשְׂרָאֵֽל׃ Moses went and spoke these things to all Israel…
In Kabbalah, the Divine Name associated with Hesed is the Name EL: אל EL is such an interesting Name because it has several different meanings. In this opening verse of Parshat Vayelekh, EL happens three times. First, it appears as part of the word eleh, which means “these.” Second, it appears as its own word, meaning “to.” Third, it appears as part of the word YisraEL, Israel, meaning “one who strives for/wrestles with EL/God.” אֵ֖לֶּה – eleh – “these” אֶל – El – “to,” but also “God” יִשְׂרָאֵֽל – Yisrael – one who “strives for/wrestles with God” This, then, is Moses’ hidden esoteric message, embedded in the language itself: “All of these (Eleh) beings who strive for God (Yisrael), are already not separate at all from God (El)!” In this time of Elul, may we come to recognize and know ever more deeply the Beloved Presence as our own Essence, and see that Essence in every being that we encounter in this coming year… Amein.
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Land of Life – Parshat Vayelekh
לולא הֶ֭אֱמַנְתִּי לִרְא֥וֹת בְּֽטוּב־יְהוָ֗ה בְּאֶ֣רֶץ חַיִּֽים Had I not trusted that I could see the Divine Goodness in the land of the living… (Psalm 27:13) Once, Rabbi Yitzhak Mer of Ger was riding in a carriage with one of his hasidim. As the carriage crested over a steep hill, the horses were spooked by something and took off wildly down the dangerous slope. The hasid was terrified for his life, and as the carriage raced toward certain destruction, he nearly fainted with fear. In the frenzy, he happened to look over at his rebbe, who seemed completely calm and undisturbed in the midst of it all. Barukh Hashem, as they came to the bottom of the hill, the driver got control of the horses and slowed them back down to a safe speed. After some time had passed and the hasid recovered from his shock, he asked his rebbe: “How is it possible that you seemed to be not the slightest bit scared back there??” Rabbi Yitzhak replied, “One who is aware of the Constant Danger is not disturbed by the many dangers of the moment…” What is this “Constant Danger” that renders all other dangers powerless? It is simply the ordinary condition of mind that makes possible the perception of danger in the first place: the sense of “me” that prefers this over that, that prefers a nice gentle ride in the carriage over getting hurled around by reckless horses. In moments of inner stillness, the ego can relax, leaving only the fullness of Presence without that sense of “me” as something separate from that fullness. This is the טוּב־יְהוָ֗ה Tuv Hashem – Divine Goodness; we can partake of this Goodness right now, in the חַיִּֽים אֶ֣רֶץ eretz hayim – the land of the living – it is not in some afterlife, but available now! At first, transcendence comes at particular moments, after which you return to a more ego-based state. But with time, the practice will bear fruit, and the “going out” and “coming back” becomes more and more slight. There’s a hint of this in the parshah: וַיֹּ֣אמֶר אֲלֵהֶ֗ם בֶּן־מֵאָה֩ וְעֶשְׂרִ֨ים שָׁנָ֤ה אָנֹכִי֙ הַיּ֔וֹם לֹא־אוּכַ֥ל ע֖וֹד לָצֵ֣את וְלָב֑וֹא He said to them: One hundred and twenty years I am today; it is not possible anymore to go out and come back… (Deuteronomy 31:2) Moses is speaking to the people, telling them that he is old; he must step down from leadership and prepare for death. But the deeper hint is the death of the ego after many years of practice – לֹא־אוּכַ֥ל ע֖וֹד לָצֵ֣את וְלָב֑וֹא lo ukhal od latzeit v’lavo – it is no longer possible to go out and come back. That’s the state of Reb Yitzhak Mer. This may seem like an unattainable goal, but the truth is that if we’re concerned about ourselves reaching that goal, we are only reinforcing that “me” that wants to achieve something. Rather, practice out of love for the teaching and the possibility; practice because it is a privilege to practice. Know: Presence is what you are; practice being with this moment as it is, even if the coming and going seems to have no end in sight: אָנֹכִי֙ הַיּ֔וֹם – Anokhi Hayom – I am, today! Don’t be concerned about “getting there” but also don’t give up trying to get there! That’s the paradox: “surrender” and “will” in one. “Surrender” without “will” simply destroys the path, but “will” without “surrender” prevents it from ever beginning. But, when they come together, transformation is not only possibly, it is guaranteed. This is hinted at in the final line of Psalm 27, by the word kaveh. Kaveh can mean “hope” but it can also mean “wait.” These are, in a sense, the opposite of each other: To hope means to reach after the future, to base your existence in the present on something that you wish will come later – this is “will.” Waiting, on the other hand, has the connotation of patience, of being here with this, content to allow the future to come when it comes – this is “surrender.” When you’ve got them both, you have an aim, but the aim is the dropping of the “me” that has the aim. In this way, ego becomes your ally in transcending yourself… קַוּ֗ה אֶל־יְה֫וָ֥ה חֲ֭זַק וְיַאֲמֵ֣ץ לִבֶּ֑ךָ וְ֝קַוֵּ֗ה אֶל־יְהוָֽה Kaveh el Hashem, hazak v’ya’ameitz libekha; kaveh el Hashem! Wait for the Divine, be strong and your heart will have courage; have hope for the Divine! Our Loss is Our Gain – Parshat Vayelekh 9/13/2018 0 Comments I spoke to a woman once who had recently lost her husband. In her grief she confided in me that the most painful part was not that her husband had died – he had lived a good life and death is natural, after all – but that she didn’t fully appreciate him while he was alive. In his death, she was finally appreciating him so deeply, but now he was gone. Why don’t we appreciate what is here now? Why does it take death to open our hearts? The irony is that the past is always dead, but we hold on to it, and the holding on itself is what creates this separation from the preciousness that’s here now. But, if we bring ourselves to realize that the past is dead, that the only preciousness there is resides now in this moment, we can use the power of death to awaken. This week’s reading, Parshat Vayelekh, begins with Moses telling the Israelites before he dies: הַיֹּ֔ום לֹא־אוּכַ֥ל עֹ֖וד לָצֵ֣את וְלָבֹ֑וא Today it is no longer possible for me to go out and come back… For many, connection with Reality, with the Divine, with the Space of this moment, is something one visits occasionally, perhaps only by accident. But for a few, the Divine becomes the central guiding Reality, the Place one returns frequently every day. For these few practitioners, the drama of “going out” and “coming back” can feel very pronounced, since one really wishes to stay there all the time. But there is a later stage where the going out and coming back ceases. This is NOT because one simply stays in some static Divine consciousness all the time, which is impossible, but rather because one is no longer so concerned about the “me” that comes and goes. The Divine becomes one’s center of attention, so that even when one’s attention wanders from the Divine and then returns, it is the Divine that matters – not the “me” that wandered and returned. This is similar to death, in that the attachment to one’s self and life drama comes to an end: Today, meaning in the Reality of the Present, it is no longer possible to be concerned about the “me” that “goes out” and “comes back”… The Maggid of Metzrich taught that this opportunity of these High Holy Days: to consciously let the “me” die, and let the force of this death blast our hearts open like the shofar to receive the fulness that is always present, and also to open to the full potential for the future, unburdened by any clinging to the past. That’s why we have to forgive each other, and even more importantly, forgive ourselves. In this way, our loss is our gain. Rather than be in regret that we didn’t appreciate something or someone enough in the past, we consciously feel both the pain and the relief of letting go, and come now to arrive in the present. On these Days of Return, may we all be helped to make the Divine our center, so that the going out and coming back starts to pale in comparison… Live From Your Depths- Parshat Vayelekh 10/6/2016 6 Comments Once, my wife and mother-in-law were giving a bath to our three-year-old daughter. A few minutes after she got in the water, she looked up and said, “Um, could you guys please put some toys in here so I don’t have to play with my feet?” The mind loves things to play with. As children we call those play objects toys. As adults, we have different names for them, but they are essentially the same. They are stimulation. They are external content that we become fascinated with. We don’t want to just “play with our feet,” or even worse, have nothing to play with at all. What could be worse for a child than to have to sit still, be quiet and do nothing? The mind craves and needs stimulation. For children, this stimulation is essential for the healthy growth of their brains, and so stimulation must be almost constant. But at some point, that changes. At some point, you might notice: all the stimulation, all the thinking, all the experiencing, wonderful and essential as they are, can be like the flaming sword of the keruvim, guarding the entrance to Gan Eden- the entrance to paradise. At some moment, and maybe that moment is now, you notice: There is an inner depth so vast, so beautiful, so alive, if you would only put down your toys and open to it. That vastness is your own inner Divinity- Eloheikhem- it is awareness meeting the truth of the present moment- Eloheikhem Emet. But many people never discover this, and remain identified and entangled in the noise of mental toys, in the mind’s perpetual narratives. This creates an experience of separateness, of craving for the wholeness that is actually there all along, beneath the mind. That craving can lead to great inner disturbance, and ultimately, all of the horrors that still plague humanity. What is the remedy? In the Talmud, Rabbi Levi Bar Chama says in the name of Rabbi Shimon Ben Lakish that when you feel yourself gripped by unwholesome motives, you should study some Torah (Berakhot 5a). In other words, study some spiritual teaching that puts you in touch with your inner Divinity, just like you are doing right now. For the aim of spiritual teaching is not just to convey information, it’s to awaken your higher potential. But, if that doesn’t work, he says to chant this verse: “Sh’ma Yisrael Hashem Eloheinu, Hashem Ekhad- "Listen Israel, Existence Itself is your own inner Divinity; there is only One Existence.” In other words, stop and become aware that God is not something “out there” or separate. All you need do is “listen” because this moment is nothing but God, if your thinking mind would relax. And if that doesn’t work, there’s one more trick: Think of your own death. The irony of children is that, on one hand, they are such bright little explosions of life, free and unencumbered by the heaviness that so many adults carry around with them. And, at the same time, they are so utterly obsessed with things that are really trivial, as anyone knows who has had to negotiate “sharing toys” with three-year-olds. But as adults, despite the years of psychic crust we accumulate in our nervous system, there is this tremendous opportunity for depth when we let go of everything. That is the contemplation of death. We will all die, but we can die before we die, surrendering into the reality of this moment, letting go of the story of “me”. This week’s reading begins shortly before Moses’ death: “Vayelekh Moshe- "Moses went and spoke these words... ‘Hayom lo ukhal…’- ‘today it is no longer possible for me to go out and come in…’” When you live on the surface, in the mind’s narratives, there is this sense of “me” going here and there, doing this and that. But in hayom- in the “today”- there is no longer a “me” coming and going. In the present, you live from your depths that are far beyond your personal story. This is the death before you die. It is said that a heavenly voice told the Baal Shem Tov he would be denied life in the World to Come for some small sin he committed. When he heard this news, he jumped for joy and danced. “Why are you so happy?” said the heavenly voice. “Because now I can serve God for its own sake, without ulterior motive.” In these days of teshuvah, leading to Yom Kippur- The Day of At-One-ment, may our commitment to live from our depths become ever more deep, and may that depth be revealed in our thoughts, words and actions. May we speedily see a day when all of humanity lives and loves from its true depth and potential! Good Shabbos, and g’mar hatimah tovah- May you be inscribed for all good things! -b yosef
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Integral Kabbalah for the Days of Awe
Class #9: Gevurah – Strength Unetaneh Tokef
There are many Names of the Divine, but in the Torah, there are two that are most prominent. The first is Elohim, and the second is Yod – Hei – Vav – Hei, or Hashem:
י–ה–ו–ה ,אלהימ The Name Elohim is often associated with nature and Divine Might. We see this at the very beginning of the Torah, in the act of creation: בְּרֵאשִׁ֖ית בָּרָ֣א אֱלֹהִ֑ים אֵ֥ת הַשָּׁמַ֖יִם וְאֵ֥ת הָאָֽרֶץ׃ In the beginning of Elohim creating the heavens and the earth… - Genesis 1:1 Ancient peoples saw the forces of nature as powerful gods, also called elohim, and they rightly saw themselves as at the mercy of these gods. This is probably the origin of ritual sacrifice – the desire to appease the nature gods and gain their favor through sacrificial offerings. Corresponding to these two Names, there were two major theological innovations the Torah brought into the world. The first was to use the word for these nature gods, elohim, to address the singular God, Elohim. The genius was that by using a plural word to describe the singular God, it expresses the idea that the One God is not the only god or even the most powerful god, but rather that the One God includes all the other gods; the One God is One because It includes everything – no thing is separate from It. The second innovation was that unlike the nature gods who were appeased by sacrifices, this singular God is “appeased” by kindness. This new vision of the Divine as having a core ethical dimension is expressed in the Torah through the second Name, Hashem. We can see this in the story of Noah’s flood: וַיַּ֣רְא יְהוָ֔ה כִּ֥י רַבָּ֛ה רָעַ֥ת הָאָדָ֖ם בָּאָ֑רֶץ וְכָל־יֵ֙צֶר֙ מַחְשְׁבֹ֣ת לִבּ֔וֹ רַ֥ק רַ֖ע כָּל־הַיּֽוֹם׃ Hashem saw how great was human wickedness on earth, and how every desire of the thoughts of his heart nothing but evil, all day long. וַיִּנָּ֣חֶם יְהוָ֔ה כִּֽי־עָשָׂ֥ה אֶת־הָֽאָדָ֖ם בָּאָ֑רֶץ וַיִּתְעַצֵּ֖ב אֶל־לִבּֽוֹ׃ And Hashem regretted making the human on the earth, and His heart was saddened. - Genesis 6:5-6 Not only is Hashem concerned with ethics, but Hashem has a heart that can be sad! But then, when the Divine carries out the destruction of humanity through the power of nature as the “great flood,” the Name switches back to Elohim: וַיֹּ֨אמֶר אֱלֹהִ֜ים לְנֹ֗חַ קֵ֤ץ כָּל־בָּשָׂר֙ בָּ֣א לְפָנַ֔י כִּֽי־מָלְאָ֥ה הָאָ֛רֶץ חָמָ֖ס מִפְּנֵיהֶ֑ם וְהִנְנִ֥י מַשְׁחִיתָ֖ם אֶת־הָאָֽרֶץ׃ Elohim said to Noah, “The end of all flesh has come before me, for the earth is filled with violence because of them; and behold, I am about to destroy them with the earth. - Genesis 6:13 So, while Elohim is associated with nature and might, Hashem is associated with the heart, with goodness, and compassion. Eventually, after the flood relents and Noah builds an altar, Hashem reappears: וַיָּ֣רַח יְהוָה֮ אֶת־רֵ֣יחַ הַנִּיחֹחַ֒ וַיֹּ֨אמֶר יְהוָ֜ה אֶל־לִבּ֗וֹ לֹֽא־אֹ֠סִף לְקַלֵּ֨ל ע֤וֹד אֶת־הָֽאֲדָמָה֙ בַּעֲב֣וּר הָֽאָדָ֔ם כִּ֠י יֵ֣צֶר לֵ֧ב הָאָדָ֛ם רַ֖ע מִנְּעֻרָ֑יו וְלֹֽא־אֹסִ֥ף ע֛וֹד לְהַכּ֥וֹת אֶת־כָּל־חַ֖י כַּֽאֲשֶׁ֥ר עָשִֽׂיתִי׃ Hashem smelled the pleasing aroma, and Hashem said in His Heart, “Never again will I doom the earth because of man, since the desires of the human heart mind are evil from their youth; nor will I ever again destroy every living being, as I have done. - Genesis 8:21 In Kabbalah, Elohim is associated with the sefirah of Gevurah, Strength, and Hashem is associated with Tiferet, Beauty, which is itself associated with Rakhamim, Compassion, as well as Emet, Truth. Of course, these two Names are aspects of One Reality. We can see this most clearly in what happens next in the Noah story, because the promise that Hashem makes requires the power of Elohim to carry it out: וַאֲנִ֕י הִנְנִ֥י מֵקִ֛ים אֶת־בְּרִיתִ֖י אִתְּכֶ֑ם וְאֶֽת־זַרְעֲכֶ֖ם אַֽחֲרֵיכֶֽם׃ “I now establish My covenant/brit with you and your offspring to come… וְלֹֽא־יִכָּרֵ֧ת כָּל־בָּשָׂ֛ר ע֖וֹד מִמֵּ֣י הַמַּבּ֑וּל וְלֹֽא־יִהְיֶ֥ה ע֛וֹד מַבּ֖וּל לְשַׁחֵ֥ת הָאָֽרֶץ׃ … … never again shall all flesh be cut off by the waters of a flood, and never again shall there be a flood to destroy the earth.” אֶת־קַשְׁתִּ֕י נָתַ֖תִּי בֶּֽעָנָ֑ן וְהָֽיְתָה֙ לְא֣וֹת בְּרִ֔ית בֵּינִ֖י וּבֵ֥ין הָאָֽרֶץ׃ I have set My rainbow in the clouds, and it shall serve as a sign of the covenant/brit between Me and the earth. So, in order for the Rakhamim, the Compassion of Hashem to manifest, it needs to be allied with the Gevurah, the Strength of Elohim, through the concept of brit – covenant, commitment, promise, oath, or pact. Applied practically to ourselves, this means we need the inner strength of Gevurah, the commitment not to be taken over by reactive forces within ourselves, to channel the Rakhamim/Compassion of Tiferet. The pure reactive Gevurah energy can be powerfully destructive, as in the story of the flood. But we can use that energy against itself, through the aid of making a brit – making a commitment to bring forth our potential for Rakhamim. There is a hint in the parshah: אַתֶּ֨ם נִצָּבִ֤ים הַיּוֹם֙ כֻּלְּכֶ֔ם לִפְנֵ֖י יְהוָ֣ה אֱלֹהֵיכֶ֑ם רָאשֵׁיכֶ֣ם שִׁבְטֵיכֶ֗ם זִקְנֵיכֶם֙ וְשֹׁ֣טְרֵיכֶ֔ם כֹּ֖ל אִ֥ישׁ יִשְׂרָאֵֽל׃ You stand this day, all of you, before the Hashem your Divinity—your tribal heads, your elders and your officials, all the men of Israel… לְעָבְרְךָ֗ בִּבְרִ֛ית יְהוָ֥ה אֱלֹהֶ֖יךָ וּבְאָלָת֑וֹ אֲשֶׁר֙ יְהוָ֣ה אֱלֹהֶ֔יךָ כֹּרֵ֥ת עִמְּךָ֖ הַיּֽוֹם׃ …to enter into the covenant (BRIT) of Hashem your Divinity, and with its oaths (ALAH) which Hashem your Divinity seals with you this day… אלה – ALAH is an interesting word; it can mean “oath,” but also “curse,” as well as “to lament” or “mourn.” (As in the curse that will come if you violate the oath, causing you to lament and mourn!) But, it also means “goddess,” as well as “club/bat/cudgel,” hinting again at the old and mighty nature deities. Lastly, it also means “these” – eleh. The Zohar says that eleh (“these”) refers to the sefirot, which can be incorrectly interpreted to be separate deities. As a remedy to this dualistic view, the Zohar recommends a practice of inquiry in which one asks the question, mi? meaning, “who?” Through the asking of “who,” we can come to realize the inner identity of all “these” different forces – eleh combines with mi, and becomes Elohim – “these” is revealed as One Reality. This is the essence of the brit of the Torah, to know the One, and not see Reality as merely a collection of separate entities. But what does this really mean for us? It means not living from ego, which is psychological identification with separateness. It means accepting Reality as it happens and living in loving service of the One, which is present manifest in and as all beings. But to do this, we need to be committed to it; we need to tap our inner Gevurah in order to overcome the forces of ego. How do we do that? First and foremost, we have to be committed to it. We have to make an inner brit (covenant), an inner alah (oath), to be conscious and not be taken over by the forces of separateness. Then, we must constantly remember our ALAH (oath) to know that ELEH (these) are really ELOHIM (One Reality that includes all plurality), and that if we forget this and worship the ELEH instead, this will only create ALAH (suffering) for ourselves. This is teshuvah, returning to the One that is ever-present, returning to the Divine Compassion of our heart and the Divine Strength of our will to bring It forth…
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Repairing the Road – Parshat Nitzavim
9/25/2019 0 Comments This past Sunday, my son and I drove up from Tucson to the Bay Area – about twelve hours of driving. Toward the end of the journey, it was getting late – I wasn’t sure if I could make it. It was around 12:00 am, and I wanted to push through. But the next thing I knew, the 75-mph traffic began getting slower and slower, eventually came to a complete stop before resuming at a barely moving pace. After nearly an hour we came to the reason – workers were repairing the road. Of course, like all things, the road wears out; the pavement chips, breaks, and becomes dangerous. Like everything, it needs to be repaired. And so it is with us as well. It’s inconvenient to the pace that we’re accustomed to; we have deadlines, we have places to go. Oh the places we want to go! Our consciousness becomes accustomed to pointing toward the future; our thoughts and feelings tend to be directed at where we are going. This is natural and necessary to a degree, but if we are always barreling forward at 75 mph, we miss out on the actual nature of our consciousness; we miss out on the depths of who we are, beneath all those directional thoughts and feelings. We may sometimes have a temporary sense of “arrival,” but then it’s back to moving again, back to the next imagined end-point. One problem with this is that over time, the road breaks down! Meaning, the movement of life leaves us injured and scarred. This too is fine and natural – but we need to slow down regularly, and even come to a complete standstill, so that the “workers” can make the tikun in our souls and bring us back to the Wholeness that we are, beneath all experience. אַתֶּ֨ם נִצָּבִ֤ים הַיּוֹם֙ כֻּלְּכֶ֔ם לִפְנֵ֖י יְהוָ֣ה אֱלֹהֵיכֶ֑ם You stand today, all of you, before Existence, your Divinity… Atem nitzavim hayom – You stand today – that is, come to a “standstill,” today – meaning, in the present… Kulkhem – all of you – that is, with your whole being; it’s not about merely sitting and be still physically. “All of you” means bring thought itself to a standstill… Lifnei Hashem Eloheikhem – before Existence, your Divinity – that is, become aware of the underlying Being-ness before you, and know that it is not separate from the Divine consciousness that you are… This Rosh Hashanah, may we renew our commitment to our avodah, to being nitzavim and coming to a “standstill” hayom – today and everyday. Let us make space for the Divine healer inherent within our own Being-ness to repair the “pavement” of our nervous systems, so that we can experience and embody the Wholeness that are beneath it all– amein. Listen and Reveal – Parshat Nitzavim 9/6/2018 1 Comment This week’s reading is Parshat Nitzavim, which means “standing.” It begins with Moses telling the Children of Israel about all the blessings that will come from following the right path, as well as the curses that will come from following the wrong path, and that in fact they will follow both right and wrong paths. But eventually, after all these ups and downs, this beautiful line describes what will happen next: וְשַׁבְתָּ֞ עַד־יְהוָ֤ה אֱלֹהֶ֙יךָ֙ וְשָׁמַעְתָּ֣ בְקֹלֹ֔ו You will return to Existence, which is not separate from your own inner Divinity, and you will begin to listen to Its Voice… This prediction applies to each one of us; we can ask ourselves right now: Ad matai? How long will I remain preoccupied with the dramas of life with all its ups and downs, before I Return? Behind all spiritual practices lies this one simple move– return to Reality, return to this moment. If you want to be free, if you want to realize your nature as wholeness, as peace, as joy, then be as the nitzavim – take your stand in your actual experience as it is, right now, being the space of awareness within which life unfolds. Be Present. But if it’s so simple, why doesn’t everyone realize this right away? Because the vast and infinitely superior reward that comes from Return to Presence is not always readily apparent. For many people, a whole lot of suffering has to come first before one is really motivated to find another way. Before that, Presence is meaningless. So the real question is, have you suffered enough yet? How long until you Return? And that’s where faith comes in. Return now; listen to the Voice of Reality as it speaks in this moment, and you may not feel anything special. Awakening comes when it comes, as an act of Grace. That’s why it says a few verses later: וּמָ֨ל יְהוָ֧ה אֱלֹהֶ֛יךָ אֶת־לְבָבְךָ֖ And Existence, which is your own inner Divinity, will circumcise your heart… We don’t “circumcise” our own hearts; the dropping away of all separation and the realization of peace and wholeness as your own nature comes to us by Grace. But we canprepare ourselves for it, we can open ourselves to it. And that’s what Teshuvah, Return to Presence, is all about. But if you need a dramatic experience to convince you, you might give up before your practice bears fruit. So please, have faith and keep at it! A disciple of Reb Mordechai of Lekhovitz had a business partner who was a mitnagid, an opponent of the Hassidic way. The disciple kept urging his partner to come see his master, Reb Mordechai, but his partner obstinately refused again and again. One day, when they happened to be in Lekhovitz on business, the partner allowed himself to be persuaded and agreed to go to the rebbe’s house for a Shabbat meal. During the meal, the disciple saw his partner’s face light up with joy. When he asked him about it later, his partner said, “When the rebbe ate, he looked as holy and radiant as theKohen Gadol – the High Priest – must have looked, making offerings in the ancient Temple!” Later, the disciple went to his master, troubled in spirit, and asked his rebbe why his friend who hated the hasidim had such a wonderful experience on the first encounter, while he had not. The master replied, “The mitnagid must see, but the hasid must have faith! May we have the strength and faith to keep at our teshuvah, to return more deeply and frequently to Presence, and may this year bring new and unique opportunities to craft the vessels of our lives into conduits for the Divine Grace that yearns to get our attention.Amein, Good Shabbos! Can't Stand It? Parshat Nitzavim 9/28/2016 6 Comments What happens when you can't stand something? Ordinarily, there is a sense of "me" and the thing or person you "can't stand." Reality is split in two, and there is tension, contraction, stress. How do you rise above this tension? The Parshah begins: "Atem nitzavim hayom kulkhem... "You all stand together today... from your hewer of wood to your carrier of water... to pass into the covenant...״ What is a covenant? A covenant is a special, intentional connection between two beings- a coming together of two, rather than a separation and tension. How do you connect with the Divine? Nitzavim Hayom- Stand today- meaning, take your stand in this moment. When you "stand" your head is raised up- meaning, you can see all that is below- your body, your feelings, your thoughts. Use your head to be aware of yourself in this moment, rather than spinning off into judgments, fantasies, and opinions about what you can't stand! Instead, take your stand in this moment. From your hewer of wood to your carrier of water- It doesn't matter what your identity is, what roles you play, what your opinions are. On the level of awareness, we are all the same transcendent presence. Then it says: "L'ma'an hakim ot'kha hayom- "In order to establish you today..." That is, establish yourself in the present moment! Make Presence a way of living, not merely a technique or occasional practice. When your presence burns brightly like the sun, far above your opinions and yet intimately aware of them, then the One Being looks through your eyes, seeing Itself everywhere. Then there is no longer "you" connecting with "God," but there is simply Being, shining forth from everything. From that state, the love and wisdom to make peace and "stand with others" becomes available... Watch Me Ney Ney?? Parshat Nitzavim 9/9/2015 8 Comments Last week I took my 3-year-old girl and nine-year-old boy out for dinner, along with my son’s nine-year-old friend. As we sat in the vegan Japanese restaurant waiting for noodle soups and avocado rolls, the friend was singing some popular song, trying to get my daughter to sing along and do the dance moves that apparently went with it. “Watch me whip! Watch me ney-ney!” he sang, showing her how to wave her arm in a certain way that I assume is from a video he saw. I had never heard the song before, and something about the way he was doing the arm wave and singing “watch me ney-ney” seemed a little off to me. I don’t want to say it sounded obscene, but not knowing what “ney-ney” meant, I was suspicious. Was this appropriate for a three year old? I wasn’t comfortable with it, so I told him to please stop. The next day, I went to pick up my daughter from her Jewish preschool. When I got there, all the kids were being led in a dance by their teacher. What was the dance? “Watch me whip! Watch me ney-ney!” The song blasted from the stereo and all the kids were doing the moves. I couldn’t believe it. Apparently her teacher thought the song was perfect for preschoolers! Later on, I told my wife the story and we laughed so hard. The next day, she told the whole story to the teacher, who also laughed and said, “Yeah I thought the song was a little strange too, but I learned it from the Rebbetzen- the rabbi’s wife!” Our narratives about reality are not the same as actual reality. Was the song appropriate or inappropriate? We had different narratives about it, but I still have no idea what "nay nay" means. Similarly, we have all kinds of narratives about who we are and who other people are, but ultimately they are just stories, mental fabrications. The roles we play, the scripts we run, the functions we fulfill, are not what we actually are. So what are we? This week’s reading opens with Moses’ words to the Children of Israel: “Atem nitzavim hayom- You are standing today…” He then goes on to describe all the different identities of the people who are “standing”: the heads of the tribes, the elders, the officers, the men, the women, the children and the stranger, ending with the sweepingly inclusive description- “…meikhoteiv eitzekha ad sho’eiv meimekha- From the hewer of your wood to the carrier of your water.” In other words, all the different identities are standing together. What does it mean to “stand today”? It means to take your stand in the present. When you stand in the present- awake, still, and attentive- all of your identities and roles are temporarily suspended. When you stand in the present, you are pure potential, pure aliveness, a field of awareness encompassing a human form. Why are they standing today? It goes on to say, “L’ovrekha bivrit Hashem Elohekha- To cross over into the covenant of Being, which is your own Divinity…” All identities, in the end, are just roles, just stories. It doesn’t matter if you are a hewer of wood or a carrier of water. When you simply stand, you stand as Being, as the Divine Being that you are. I remember one time a visiting rabbi came to our shul and gave a talk for a Shabbat service. When he stood up to talk, he first stood in silence. He looked around the room, making eye contact with everyone. The silence was powerful, and lasted about 3 or 4 minutes. Finally, he began to talk. His teaching was very good, but the truth is, it was nothing compared to his silence. When he stood in silence and connected with everyone in the room one by one, there was a shift. That ineffable quality of being- the quality that some call “Divine”- was palpable. The roles we play, on the other hand, have the potential to divide us. Our roles can create competition. Our stories can become arguments over who is right, over who has the “truth”. The solution? Stand together. We need not get rid of our roles, but we do need to choose roles that express our basic oneness, our inner Divinity. But to do that, we need to be committed to it. That’s the brit, the covenant. Commitment to transformation, to truly embody who you want to be, may seem difficult. But, as the Torah reminds us later in the same parshah, “Ki karov eilekha hadavar me’od- this matter is very near to you- b’fikha uvilvavkha la’asoto- in your mouth and in your heart, that you may do it.” A shopkeeper once complained to Reb Moshe of Kobrin that his neighbor, who sold exactly the same goods as he did, always made a killing, while customers just passed on by his shop. “I can promise big profits to you, too,” said the tzaddik, “but only on the condition that when you see your neighbor doing well, you must thank Hashem for his success. Something like this- Thank God for the rich livelihood of my neighbor! "It may be difficult to say this wholeheartedly at the beginning, but as you train your mouth to say the words, in time they will find their way into your heart as well- until in fact you will be saying them with all your heart. "For, in the verse- ‘in your mouth and in your heart, that you may do it’- we first find ‘in your mouth’, and only after is it written ‘in your heart.’” If you want your life to express your inner Divinity, rather than merely repeat old scripts and narratives, it’s important to consciously construct your narratives- don’t let them construct you! Choose who you want to be, write it down and repeat it often. And, to tap into the transformative power that makes this possible, you must go beyond all narrative, and stand in the silence of pure potential. That’s meditation. As we come into Shabbat Nitzavim, the Sabbath of Standing, and then into the New Year beginning Sunday night, may we renew our connection with the Divinity of Being. May we “crown” Reality as “King” over all our mental narratives. May we know ever more deeply the sweetness and bliss of what we truly are, and the power and potential of what’s possible when we stand together. L’shanah tovah tikatevu- May you be inscribed for a good year- And may you consciously inscribe yourself as an expression of your deepest potential! love, brian yosef
Integral Kabbalah for the Days of Awe
Class #8: Tiferet – Radiant Beauty Avinu Malkeinu
There’s a Hasidic story that the once the Jews of the town of Apt were threatened by a local decree against them and were in great distress, so the rabbi of Apt issued a command for a universal fast in order to call down God’s mercy. But when Rabbi Yisrael of Rizhyn heard of the threat, he called for his favorite klezmorim (musicians) to come and play on his balcony every evening. As the sounds wafted down, a crowd of Hasidim would begin to gather below, and as the gathering grew, they would begin to dance.
Word eventually came to the rabbi of Apt of what was happening: “Rabbi! Your decree of a time of fasting has been turned into a time of rejoicing by Rabbi Yisrael!” The rabbi of Apt responded by quoting a pasuk: וְכִֽי־תָבֹ֨אוּ מִלְחָמָ֜ה בְּאַרְצְכֶ֗ם עַל־הַצַּר֙ הַצֹּרֵ֣ר אֶתְכֶ֔ם וַהֲרֵעֹתֶ֖ם בַּחֲצֹצְר֑וֹת וֲנִזְכַּרְתֶּ֗ם לִפְנֵי֙ יְהוָ֣ה אֱלֹֽהֵיכֶ֔ם וְנוֹשַׁעְתֶּ֖ם מֵאֹיְבֵיכֶֽם׃ “When you come into battle in your land against an aggressor who attacks you, you shall sound the trumpets, that you may be remembered before Hashem your Divinity and be delivered from your enemies… (Numbers 10:9) “How can I judge someone who is taking this command of the Torah to heart?” In this story, the response rabbi of Apt to the impending calamity is to impose austerity. This is a common traditional response; when life brings us danger, the practice is to try to avert the danger through asceticism. In this taking of suffering upon oneself on purpose, the belief is that you can stop the danger from manifesting externally. The logic of this type of approach comes from our ordinary experience of relationships. You may have experienced that when a person realizes they have wronged you, and they come to you with sincere apologies and grief, it is not difficult to forgive them. But there is also another path; instead of being repentant and sorrowful, the offender might do something so delightful that the offense is forgotten. This is often true in the case children! While children might occasionally be sorry, usually their offenses are more often forgiven when they do something adorable. In Kabbalah, the ascetic approach is the path of Gevurah, while the approach of delight is the path of Tiferet. In the story, it is the playing of music that draws down Divine compassion, hence the association of Tiferet with “beauty” and “splendor,” which are straightforward translations of Tiferet, but also with “compassion,” or rakhamim. Another kabbalistic dimension of the story is the description of the scene: the musicians play up on the balcony, and the music wafts downward to the gathering Hasidim below, who begin to dance. This is the transcendent beauty of Tiferet above, arousing Yesod below, which represents the foundational functions of joy and community. In addition to the association of Tiferet with beauty and compassion, Tiferet is also associated with Emet, Truth. …תורָתְךָ אֱמֶת: תִּתֵּן אֱמֶת לְיַעֲקב. חֶסֶד לְאַבְרָהָם Your Torah is Truth; Grant Truth to Jacob, Kindness to Abraham… - Atah Kadosh liturgy, weekday Shakharit, Shabbat Minkha, Motzei Shabbat Maariv In this Talmudic liturgical text, Abraham is associated with Hesed/Kindness, while Jacob is associated with Emet/Truth. In Kabbalah, the three patriarchs, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, come to be associated with three sefirot, Hesed, Gevurah and Tiferet; hence the association of Tiferet with Truth. But this is strange – how can Tiferet represent beauty and compassion, and also truth? Beauty and compassion make sense; we experience beauty, and this arouses compassion. But to have compassion, we often have to ignore truth to some degree; we overlook the truth of a person’s guilt in order to respond compassionately. Furthermore, beauty is often an external effect that covers up truth, as when a person puts on makeup or dyes their hair. We can “photoshop” a photo to create a more beautiful image of a person. In music recording, we can digitally “fix” a person’s voice when they sing off key, making the recording more beautiful while hiding the truth of how they actually sang. There is a hint to this riddle in the parshah: אֶת־יְהוָ֥ה הֶאֱמַ֖רְתָּ הַיּ֑וֹם לִהְיוֹת֩ לְךָ֨ לֵֽאלֹהִ֜ים וְלָלֶ֣כֶת בִּדְרָכָ֗יו וְלִשְׁמֹ֨ר חֻקָּ֧יו וּמִצְותָ֛יו וּמִשְׁפָּטָ֖יו וְלִשְׁמֹ֥עַ בְּקֹלֽוֹ׃ You say today that Existence Itself will be for you as God, that you will walk in Its ways, that you will guard Its practices and commandments and ethical rules, and that you will listen to Its Voice. וַֽיהוָ֞ה הֶאֱמִֽירְךָ֣ הַיּ֗וֹם לִהְי֥וֹת לוֹ֙ לְעַ֣ם סְגֻלָּ֔ה כַּאֲשֶׁ֖ר דִּבֶּר־לָ֑ךְ וְלִשְׁמֹ֖ר כָּל־מִצְותָֽיו׃ And Existence Itself affirms today that you are to It a treasured people, as said to you, and to guard all of Its commandments, וּֽלְתִתְּךָ֣ עֶלְי֗וֹן עַ֤ל כָּל־הַגּוֹיִם֙ אֲשֶׁ֣ר עָשָׂ֔ה לִתְהִלָּ֖ה וּלְשֵׁ֣ם וּלְתִפְאָ֑רֶת וְלִֽהְיֹתְךָ֧ עַם־קָדֹ֛שׁ לַיהוָ֥ה אֱלֹהֶ֖יךָ כַּאֲשֶׁ֥ר דִּבֵּֽר׃ And you will be set far above the nations that were made, for praise and fame and splendor (Tiferet), and you will be a holy people to Hashem your divinity, as said.
This passage describes the benefits that the Children of Israel will receive for living in alignment with the Divine. Each of these qualities are aspects of Tiferet: עֶלְי֗וֹן Elyon – exalted, above, transcendent; this is Tiferet in relation to Malkhut, as Tiferet is symbolized by the sun and Malkhut by the earth. לִתְהִלָּ֖ה Lit’hilah – “for praise” particularly through song. This is the beauty of music, as in the story above. The Psalms, which were sung by the Levites in the temple, are called Tehilim. לְשֵׁ֣ם L’shem – “for name” meaning “famous.” The artists and musicians are the beloved icons of culture, the celebrities that embody the beauty and transcendence of Tiferet. תִפְאָ֑רֶת L’tifaret – for Tiferet! That is, for “beauty” or “splendor.” But how are we to receive all this Tiferet? אֶת־יְהוָ֥ה הֶאֱמַ֖רְתָּ הַיּ֑וֹם לִהְיוֹת֩ לְךָ֨ לֵֽאלֹהִ֜ים You say today that Existence Itself will be for you as God… The qualities of Tiferet arise not merely from doing the mitzvot, but from verbally pledging to do them, and then following through. In other words, they result from being true. This is the underlying message of the Jewish idea of brit, of covenant: On the deepest level, it is not only the commandments in the abstract which are the essence of the teaching, but being true to one’s word, that is, being one within oneself, so that one’s intentions and words and actions become one and thereby express the One. In this way, beauty and compassion come not to cover up truth, but arise as expressions of it. There is another way that truth and beauty can be allies: Rabbi Yaakov Yitzhak, the Seer of Lublin, would sometimes take a pinch of snuff right in the middle of davening. One time, a fellow davener saw him do this corrected him: “It is not proper to interrupt prayer.” The Seer responded, “Let me tell you a story. Once there was a great king who, while traveling through his kingdom, heard a ragged old street singer, singing and playing an old harp. The king was moved by the music, so he invited the street musician into the palace, where he enjoyed his music day and night. “The minstrel didn’t want to part with his old harp, and he often had to stop in the middle of playing to tune it up again and again. One day, a courtier snapped at him: ‘You really aught to tune up your instrument beforehand.’ ‘“The king has many musicians in his orchestras and choirs much better than I,’ replied the minstrel, ‘But the king has picked me and my harp, so it is apparently his wish to endure its peculiarities and mine...’”
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Making Friends with the Now – Parshat Ki Tavo
9/17/2019 0 Comments Many common experiences are completely ineffable and inexplicable, yet we take their reality for granted because they are so common. Like the flavor of food, for example. Or music – can you explain the experience of listening to music? Can we even know what music is? Of course not – music is a mystery. Flavor is a mystery. And yet, if someone says, “mmmmm” we understand they’re enjoying food, because we know that experience. If we see someone dancing to the rhythm, we know they are hearing the music. We can’t really explain it, but because we know the experience, we can recognize the outward signs of the experience in someone else. כִּֽי־הִנֵּ֤ה הַחֹ֙שֶׁךְ֙ יְכַסֶּה־אֶ֔רֶץ וַעֲרָפֶ֖ל לְאֻמִּ֑ים וְעָלַ֙יִךְ֙ יִזְרַ֣ח יְהוָ֔ה וּכְבוֹד֖וֹ עָלַ֥יִךְ יֵרָאֶֽה׃ Behold! Darkness shall cover the earth, and thick clouds the peoples; but upon you the Divine will shine, And Its Presence be seen over you. (Isaiah 60:2, Haftora Ki Tavo) What does this mean – that yizrakh Hashem – the Divine will shine and Its Presence will be seen? It sounds like a contradiction – if “darkness covers the earth,” how can the “Presence” be seen? But that’s the point – you cannot “see” the Divine any more than you can “see” the flavor of food, or “smell” the sound of music. The dimension of the sacred is, nevertheless, not an uncommon experience; we know the outward signs of it, just like we recognize the savoring of food or dancing to music. What are the outward signs? הַמַּכִּיר אֶת מְקוֹמוֹ – knowing one’s place (Pirkei Avot, 6:6) In Pirkei Avot, there is a list of qualities one needs to aquire wisdom, and among them is hamakir et m’komo – knowing one’s place. It may sound like a negative thing, like being passive and not speaking up for yourself. But the word for knowing, makir, also means “friend” – so the “knowing” is like the knowing of a friend; it’s a knowing of love, of relationship. The word for “one’s place” – m’komo – is a form of Makom, which is also a Divine Name. So, to be hamakir et m’komo means to “make friends” with the place you are actually in, right now, and thereby connect to the Divine Presence that shines beneath the surface of this moment. When someone does this, we can recognize it – we sense an inner light, a friendly aliveness, a peaceful presence. We may not be able to conceptualize it or explain it – darkness shall cover the earth – but nevertheless there is recognition. From this quality of making friends with the present moment, there naturally arises the next quality mentioned in the mishna: וְהַשָּׂמֵחַ בְּחֶלְקו – and being happy with one’s portion… It is good to appreciate what you’ve got. But to be truly samayakh b’helko – happy with one’s portion – we must realize what we are on the deepest level: וְעָלַ֙יִךְ֙ יִזְרַ֣ח יְהוָ֔ה וּכְבוֹד֖וֹ עָלַ֥יִךְ יֵרָאֶֽה And upon you the Divine will shine, And Its Presence be seen over you. This Presence, this Light, is what we are – it is the awareness that befriends this moment and expresses Itself as radiance and peacefulness on the one who realizes. But, even though we are this Light, it is easily concealed; we must make the effort to realize this Light by coming to this moment as a friend, by being hamakir et m’komo even with our own darkeness, with our own negativity. Because it is through presence with the negativity – with the fear, with the anger, with the resentments, with the irritability – that we can reclaim the consciousness that has temporarily taken a negative form and transmute it back into Light. When that happens, it can then be said: ק֥וּמִי א֖וֹרִי כִּ֣י בָ֣א אוֹרֵ֑ךְ וּכְב֥וֹד יְהוָ֖ה עָלַ֥יִךְ זָרָֽח Arise, shine, for your light has dawned; The Presence of the Divine has shone upon you! (Isaiah 60:1, Haftora Ki Tavo) Only One Thing– Parshat Ki Tavo 8/29/2018 1 Comment There’s a story of Rabbi Moshe Leib of Sasov, that once while he was absorbed in a mystical ecstasy, he heard a knock at the window. A drunken peasant stood outside and asked to be let in and given a bed for the night. For a moment, the tzaddik’s heart raged with anger and he thought to himself, “How can this drunk have the hutzbah to ask to be let into this house!” But then he said silently in his heart, “And what business does he have to exist at all, when Existence is nothing but the Divine? But if Hashem gets along with this guy and allows him to exist in this world, who am I to reject him?” He opened the door at once and prepared a bed. Everything that appears in our awareness is actually nothing but a form of awareness. So, when we resist something or someone who appears, we are really resisting our own being; we are creating an inner split, an experience of exile, of being not at home. But when we welcome whatever comes, whether it be a person, or a situation, or a feeling – it doesn’t matter – the hospitality we express toward that which appears allows us to be at home ourselves, in this moment. וְהָיָה֙ כִּֽי־תָבֹ֣וא אֶל־הָאָ֔רֶץ אֲשֶׁר֙ יְהוָ֣ה אֱלֹהֶ֔יךָ נֹתֵ֥ן לְךָ֖ נַחֲלָ֑ה וִֽירִשְׁתָּ֖הּ וְיָשַׁ֥בְתָּ בָּֽהּ׃ It will be when you come into the land that Hashem, your Divinity gives to you as an inheritance and you take possession of it and dwell within it… The fullness of this moment, along with these bodies we now inhabit, is like a nakhalah,an inheritance; it comes to us from the boundless past, as an unearned gift. From the infinite possibilities of what could be, here we are, now. But the ordinary activity of the ego is to resist aspects of this moment, and thereby create a sense of dis-ease, of not being at home in our nakhalah. We’re like the Israelites wandering in the desert. But if we want to truly feel the peace of dwelling within our inheritance, we have to actively take possession of it, and that means actively welcoming whatever appears, while resting awareness within our bodies. In that active welcoming, we can come to the state of simply being (hayah) through “coming in” (ki tavo) to the “land” that is this moment (el ha’aretz). This is both the goal and the path of awakening: to continuously dwell in the truth of this moment: אַחַ֤ת ׀ שָׁאַ֣לְתִּי מֵֽאֵת־יְהוָה֮ אֹותָ֪הּ אֲבַ֫קֵּ֥שׁ שִׁבְתִּ֣י בְּבֵית־יְ֭הוָה כָּל־יְמֵ֣י חַיַּ֑י לַחֲזֹ֥ות בְּנֹֽעַם־יְ֝הוָ֗ה וּלְבַקֵּ֥ר בְּהֵיכָלֹֽו Akhat she’alti me’eit Hashem, otah avakeish, shivti b’veit Hashem kol y’mei hayay, lakhazot b’no’am Hashem, ul’vakeir b’heikhalo! Only One Thing I ask of the Divine – this I seek – to dwell in the House of the Divine all the days of my life, to behold the sweetness of the Divine and to meditate in Its Sanctuary! Doing and Being: Parshat Ki Tavo 9/8/2017 1 Comment Parshat Ki Tavo begins, “V’hayah ki tavo el ha’aretz – It will be when you come into the land that the Divine gives you as an inheritance, to possess it, and to dwell within it…” It then goes on to talk about a special ritual of gratitude that involves putting the first fruit of your harvest into a basket, making a pilgrimage to the Temple, and offering the fruit in gratitude for having come out of slavery in Egypt, and into the the "land flowing with milk and honey." On a simple level, this is a farmer’s gratitude ritual for the goodness of the land. But on a deeper level, V’hayah ki tavo el ha’aretz – coming into the land means coming into the place you already are, coming into the full Presence of whatever is present. This is hinted at by V’hayah ki tavo – It will BE when you come in – meaning, coming in to the mode of Being. Our lives consist of both Doing and Being, but we tend to identify with the Doing mode. Doing means, constantly going out– constantly reaching toward a goal we imagine in the future. This is how we create and accomplish things, which is wonderful and necessary. But if it’s not balanced by the mode of Being, if there’s total identification with the mind and with Doing, then there’s no peace, there’s no contentment, there’s no coming in. So, what’s the solution? V’hayah ki tavo el ha’aretz – come into this place that you are, by connecting your awareness with the Presence of the aretz- the earth on which we live, this body through which we live, and with whatever else happens to be present. The mind tends to lurch toward some imagined fruits in the future. Instead, bring your focus to the fruits that are already here, in the basket of this moment. Then you will be able to say as the ancient farmer said, “Vayotzieinu Hashem mimitzrayim – Hashem brought us out of Egypt – meaning, we are brought out of the contracted bundle of mind-identified ego through simply Being, because the Hebrew Name of God actually means, Being. V’samakhta v’khol hatov – and then you will rejoice with all the goodness that you are given, you and the strangers among you. So on this Shabbat Ki Tavo – The Sabbath of Coming In, may we reel in our awareness from the tendrils of thought and time, into deeper connection with the earth, with the body, with our senses, with all the fruits that are just now ripe, giving thanks for this moment of Existence as it is – Good Shabbiss!! Chosen to Choose- Parshat Ki Tavo 9/19/2016 2 Comments As I was making coffee one morning, my almost ten year old son came into the kitchen and sat with me a bit. We started talking about the Sh’ma, the Jewish affirmation of Divine oneness. I asked him if he knew what was the first of the two blessings that come before the Sh’ma. He knew: “Yotzer or uvorei hoshekh- Former of light and Creator of darkness- Oseh shalom uvorei et hakol- Maker of peace, Creator of All.” I told him that these words actually come from the Bible, from the Book of Isaiah. There, Isaiah describes God with the same words- except for one difference. At the end of the verse in Isaiah, it doesn’t say- “… uvorei et haKol- Creator of All." Rather, it says- “… uvorei et haRa- Creator of evil”! Of course, “Creator of all” must include “evil” as well, since evil is part of the “all”, but the rabbis who composed this blessing must have thought Isaiah’s words were just a little too provocative, a little too dangerous. After all, how could a “good God” create evil? It’s the age-old theological dilemma (for those who go for theological dilemmas). Still, they included this verse right before the Sh’ma to emphasize that God is not one side of a polarity. God is Oneness, and that Oneness includes everything. I asked my son, “What do you think about Hashem creating evil?” He said, “There might be evil, but we are not evil, Abba.” And, I would add, sometimes it takes the experience of evil to realize your own inherent goodness. Sometimes it takes the experience of the “bad” to come to a true and simple humility, to a deep gratitude for the blessings that can otherwise go unnoticed. This week’s reading, Ki Tavo, begins by describing a ritual of gratitude and joy that the Israelites are to perform when they come to dwell in the Promised Land: “Ki tavo el ha’aretz- "When you enter the land… "V’lakakhta mereishit kol p’ri ha’adamah- "You shall take from the first fruits of the earth…” It goes on to describe how the celebrant should put the fruit in a basket and bring it to the place where the Divine “chooses” to “make the Holy Name rest”. The celebrant then makes a declaration of having come from slavery to freedom, of having now received the gift of the land, and of now coming to offer its first fruits. The celebrant then “rejoices” with "family" and “stranger” together. There is a fruit that you are reaping right now- That fruit is the fullness of this moment. This, now, is the “fruit” of all that has come before. But what is your “First Fruit?" It is your immediate relationship with this moment. The content of this moment is complex; it often contains both joy and suffering. Your mind may comment with stories and judgments. But before the stories, before the judgments, there is something more immediate. There is simply this life, this consciousness, meeting this moment as it is. When you descend deeply into yourself, when you return from the journeys of the mind into the reality of the present, it can dawn on you: you have the choice to hold this moment in the “basket” of gratitude. This is not a denial of suffering. In fact, it is often thanks to our suffering that we are awakened to those things that truly matter, to the blessings we are constantly receiving but often take for granted. And when you have the choice to relate to this moment with gratitude, is that not grace? It is your choice, but the fact you have become aware of that choice is a gift. It is as if God has chosen "rest Its Presence" in the place of your own awareness. Is there any greater gift than that? Is that not the movement from slavery to freedom? Two disciples of the Hassidic Master known as the “Maggid of Mezritch” came to the Maggid with a question: “We are troubled by the teaching of our sages, that one must bless for the evil one experiences as well as the good (Mishna, Berachot, 9:5). How are we to understand this?” The Maggid replied, “Go to the beit midrash (house of study). There you will find Reb Zusha smoking his pipe. He will give you the answer.” So, they went and found Reb Zusha and put the question to him. Zusha just laughed and said, “I think you’ve come to the wrong man. I have never experienced suffering in my life.” But the two knew that Zusha’s life had been a web of poverty, loss and illness… and they understood. On this Shabbat Ki Tavo, the Sabbath of Entering, and in this month Elul, the month of Return- may we fully enter this place we are already in. May we re-turn evermore in gratitude for the blessing of this “fruit,” and for the suffering that has brought us to this gratitude. May we too rejoice with all who are strange, knowing everyone as expressions of the One... Good Shabbos!! The Basket- Parshat Ki Tavo 9/11/2014 3 Comments Two disciples of the Hassidic Master known as the “Maggid of Mezritch” came to the Maggid with a question: “We are troubled by the teaching of our sages, that one must bless for the evil one experiences as well as the good (Mishna, Berachot, 9:5). How are we to understand this?” The Maggid replied, “Go to the beit midrash (house of study). There you will find Reb Zusha smoking his pipe. He will give you the answer.” So they went and found Reb Zusha and put the question to him. Zusha just laughed and said, “I think you’ve come to the wrong man. I have never experienced suffering in my life.” But the two knew that Zusha’s life had been a web of need and anguish. They understood. When we hear a teaching like this, it can sound as though it is advocating that we play act. Suffering happens and we should pretend that it’s “all good”. We should put on a happy face. But the teaching is much deeper than that. This week’s parshah, Ki Tavo, begins by describing a ritual of gratitude that the Israelites should do when they dwell in the promised Land: “V’lakakhta mereishit kol p’ri ha’adamah- you shall take from the first fruits of the earth”. It goes on to describe how the celebrant should put the fruit in a basket and bring it to the place where the Divine “chooses” to “make the Holy Name rest”. The celebrant then makes a declaration of having come from slavery to freedom, the gift of the land, and of offering the first fruits. The celebrant then “rejoices” with one’s family as well as the “stranger”. This moment, right now, is the “fruit” of all that has come before. What is our “first fruit”? It is our primary relationship with this moment. The content of this moment may be complex; it may have both goodness and suffering. Nevertheless, it is our choice to hold this moment in the “basket” of gratitude. Without pretending away our problems, it is still our choice to give thanks for the gift of this “fruit”. In giving thanks, we also recognize that we are free, because we are not controlled by the “good” and the “bad”. We can remain open. And here is also the recognition that the Divine “rests” in this moment; in choosing to be present and give thanks for this, we receive this moment as G-d’s choice. In this month of return, may we re-turn evermore into the space of freedom that is gratitude for this eternal presence of Being. Amein.
Integral Kabbalah for the Days of Awe
Class #7: Netzakh – Victory and Persistence “Aneinu – Answer Us!”
A disciple of Rabbi Yaakov Yosef, the Seer of Lublin, had been fasting all week and was traveling to spend Shabbos with his master. On the way, he came upon a well, and was suddenly overcome with an uncontrollable thirst. He thought he might die if he didn’t drink some of that water!
Involuntarily, he drew some water from the well and brought the cup to his lips, when suddenly he realized – “If I drink now, I will have nullified my entire fast! Just a few more hours to go!” And with that, he managed to overcome temptation and walk away from the well. But then he noticed within himself a bit of pride that he had withstood the test. “Better that I drink and nullify my entire fast than have this pride!” He went back to the well and again began to draw some water, when to his astonishment, he realized that his thirst had completely disappeared. So, he returned to his journey without drinking any water. When he arrived at the home of his master, the Seer greeted him harshly, barking at him: “Patchwork!” In Martin Buber’s short book, The Way of Man, he tells this story and talks about his own contemplation of its meaning. “Why was the Seer so harsh with the disciple?” he wondered. He eventually came to understand the meaning of the story by asking the question, “What is the opposite of ‘patchwork?’” The opposite of patchwork, he answers, is “of a piece.” In other words, the Seer scolds the disciple because he was not one within himself; he was second guessing, going back and forth, not deciding on a path and walking it. A common misconception on the spiritual path is that spiritual practices can produce a unity within yourself. While it is true that spiritual practices can help you perceive the unity that is already there, that is, the unity of consciousness itself, beneath all the conflicting forces of our various experiences, we still must forge that unity in how we approach the practices; we must decide on the spiritual path and walk it whole-heartedly. This self-unifying part of the work should be done before we fast, before we sit down to meditate, pray, study, or whatever. We must always unify ourselves in the decision to practice first; our practices will not accomplish this for us. And if we fail to do this, our practices won’t have any lasting endurance; we will give up. This is the quality of Netzakh, which means “Victory” and also “Eternity,” and is associated with the middah of “Endurance” or “Persistence.” Netzakh is Victory in the sense that when we unify ourselves in our decision to practice, we claim victory over the forces of “wishy-washy-ness” and become “of a piece.” But it is also Eternity in the sense that when we practice with this unified intention, we can transcend the decision-making mind and recognize the Eternal dimension of Being, beyond all forms that come and go in experience. This is the fruit of the practice, and it comes to us by Grace; we cannot force it to happen, but it is given to us when we give ourselves completely to the Path. There is a hint in the parshah: כִּֽי־תֵצֵ֥א לַמִּלְחָמָ֖ה עַל־אֹֽיְבֶ֑יךָ וּנְתָנ֞וֹ יְהֹוָ֧ה אֱלֹהֶ֛יךָ בְּיָדֶ֖ךָ וְשָׁבִ֥יתָ שִׁבְיֽוֹ When you go to battle your enemies, Hashem your Divinity gives them into your hand, and you capture their captivity…
כִּֽי־תֵצֵ֥א לַמִּלְחָמָ֖ה עַל־אֹֽיְבֶ֑יךָ – Ki teitzei – When you go out to battle… כי Ki is usually translated as “when” but it can also mean “because.” Meaning, it is because we make the effort to go out from our inertia and conditioning; it is because we engage the inner battle to forge a unity within and fully step onto the spiritual path with commitment; it is because we make that effort that: וּנְתָנ֞וֹ יְהֹוָ֧ה אֱלֹהֶ֛יךָ בְּיָדֶ֖ךָ – Hashem your Divinity gives them into your hand… This is the paradox: The fruit of the path is not something we control with our decisiveness, it is “put in our hand” by the Divine, by Reality Itself. And yet, it is given to us כי ki – because we have made the effort. This is the second meaning of Netzakh as “Eternity” – the realization of the Eternal dimension that blossoms on its own when we achieve “Victory” over our inner divisions. Then, through the meeting of effort with Grace, וְשָׁבִ֥יתָ שִׁבְיֽוֹ – and you capture their captivity… Once the inner fruit ripens, there is no longer any effort needed to unify oneself. That’s because, at that point, there is no longer any temptation to waver, no more distraction from the Goal; we experience the benefit for ourselves, and we know. At that point, walking the spiritual path becomes just like breathing, just like eating and sleeping; this is the deeper Netzakh, The Victory of the Eternal over the conflicting pulls of the temporal, accomplished through Persistence…
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Falling from the Roof of the Mind – Parshat Ki Tetzei
9/10/2019 0 Comments Is there a time when failure is actually success? כִּ֤י תִבְנֶה֙ בַּ֣יִת חָדָ֔שׁ וְעָשִׂ֥יתָ מַעֲקֶ֖ה לְגַגֶּ֑ךָ וְלֹֽא־תָשִׂ֤ים דָּמִים֙ בְּבֵיתֶ֔ךָ כִּֽי־יִפֹּ֥ל הַנֹּפֵ֖ל מִמֶּֽנּוּ When you build a new house, make a parapet for the roof, and you won’t bring blood upon your house when one falls from it…
The fact that the Torah talks about preventing a person from falling off the roof by building a protective barrier implies that, indeed, people must have fallen off rooves; it was probably the failure to anticipate this danger that led to the law of making a ma’akeh, or parapet. Similarly, when we become aware of our own misdeeds in the past, we too can build some kind of ma’akeh, some kind of protective fence to prevent the same thing from happening again. There are two main types of misdeeds: mistakes and temporary insanity. A mistake would be: you’re up on the roof and you’re goofing around, not paying attention, or maybe you just miscalculated your footsteps and you fall of the roof, God forbid. Temporary insanity would be: you’re up on the roof with someone, you get into a fight and push them off the roof, God forbid. You didn’t intend to hurt them; you just got angry and lost control. The ma’akeh prevents both types of scenarios. Whether accidental or by temporary insanity, the parapet prevents a person from falling. There’s a hint in the wording of the pasuk: “one who falls” is yipol hanofel – literally, “will fall, the falling.” The repeating of the verb “fall” is an idiom of emphasis, but also hints that the ma’akeh can prevent both the accidental and the impulsive falling crisis. Similarly, we too can take measures to prevent ourselves from repeating our misdeeds, whether they be accidental or impulsive. To do that, we need to see our lives clearly, contemplate, and create our own “parapets.” This is the transformative part of teshuvah, the main practice in this month of Elul, leading to the Days of Awe. There is yet a third kind of misdeed, one that is far more difficult to prevent. This is the misdeed of habit, the misdeed that has become part of one’s personality and lifestyle – such as addiction, relationship dysfunction, abuse, and so on. The more emmeshed we become in the negative behavior, the less likely we are to change it. And yet, we absolutely can change it. This is the deepest and most transformative kind of teshuvah. Rabbi Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev once came upon a wealthy man in the street who was known to be abusive with his money and power. “Oh, I envy you sir!” said Levi Yitzhak. The rasha (evil person) looked proudly at Levi Yitzhak, thinking that the rabbi wished he too could have all that money and power. But then Levi Yitzhak continued, “I envy you, because when you finally return, when you finally do teshuvah, all your sins will be transformed into magnificent lights, and what a brilliant spectacle that will be! Oh sir, I envy you that brilliance!” These three types of misdeeds – accidental, impulsive and intentional, are three main types of “sins” mentioned in the liturgy: het means “missing the mark,” as in shooting an arrow and missing the target. This is the accident. An aveira is crossing over a boundary impulsively; you accept that there is a boundary, but you become possessed by strong feelings and you violate it. Lastly, an avon is a misdeed that is not a mistake and is not impulsive; it has become part of how you operate. The avon cannot be prevented by any kind of ma’akeh; you can’t “trick yourself” out of this kind of misdeed. For the avon, you actually have to choose differently; you have to fully transform. These three kinds of “sin” are different from each other, but for a person who wants to become free from them, a single ingredient is needed. Whether we are merely setting a boundary to prevent mistakes and impulsivity, or we are seeking to overcome a deeply ingrained behavior, the root of all transformation on any level is the application of awareness. The outer teshuvah of returning to intentional action is rooted in the inner teshuvah of bringing our awareness out from its compulsive preoccupation with thought (which ordinarily reinforces our patterns), and into our actual present experience, into our senses, into our bodies. In doing so, acceptance and forgiveness of the past is natural and spontaneous, as the pain we cause ourselves by holding on to the past becomes blatantly obvious. And not only that, but the more we bring our attention to this moment, the more we can see that we are the awareness of this moment. We are openness, we are free, and we are in no way trapped by the past or by habit. In Presence, the power to choose reveals itself. Whenever I travel (and I travel a lot), I am always amazed that I can draw together the clothing, toiletries, books, computer equipment, etc., and pack them all into a single suitcase. It actually seems miraculous to me, that all the disparate items can come together into a single whole. But miraculous as that is, it is nothing compared to the miracle of Presence: that through the simple shift of opening to the immediacy of actual experience, all the disparate chaos comes together in the “suitcase” of the present moment; in Presence, there is no longer “me” and “that” – there is only the fullness of the what is, in all its richness, arising and falling away in the one field of awareness that we are. בְּרֶ֥גַע קָטֹ֖ן עֲזַבְתִּ֑יךְ וּבְרַחֲמִ֥ים גְּדֹלִ֖ים אֲקַבְּצֵֽךְ For a tiny moment I forsook you, but with a vast compassion I will gather you together…-- Isaiah 54:7 When we “gather together” our awareness into the fullness of the present, there is paradoxically a vastness and a benevolence – a rakhamim gedolim that is our own nature, revealing all past misdeeds for what they really are: tiny moments of forgetfulness arising and disappearing into the vastness of Being… The Price for Freedom – Parshat Ki Teitzei 8/21/2018 0 Comments There’s a story of Rabbi Moshe Leib of Sasov, that once he travelled through many villages trying to collect funds so that he could liberate the poor Jews who were incarcerated in the Ukrainian debtor’s prison. Day after day, he went from door to door pleading the case of those poor souls rotting away in the dungeon, but no one would contribute anything. After weeks of failure, feeling dejected and frustrated, he gave up and set out to return home, regretting having wasted all that time he could have spent learning and praying. But just as he approached his house, a woman ran up to him in a panic: “Rabbi, my husband was caught stealing a piece of clothing and was viciously beaten by the police and thrown in jail!” Without hesitation, the rabbi turned around and went to intercede with the judge. After much effort, he was able to get the prisoner released. When he went to fetch the prisoner from jail, he sternly warned him: “Remember the beating they gave you and don’t ever do anything like that again!” “Why not?” replied the thief, “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again!” Upon hearing his words, the rabbi resolved to return to his task of raising money to ransom prisoners, and eventually was highly successful in liberating many. There is a debt to be paid for our spiritual freedom as well. We too must not give up “raising the funds,” moving from one situation to the next, bringing our consciousness fully to each moment, to each feeling, to each reaction, to each thought. Again and again – we might get caught, absorbed and coopted by whatever is arising in our experience, but don’t give up! The real danger is never failure. The real danger is allowing our failures to develop into the belief that freedom is impossible. The phenomena of our experience have a certain gravity; they tend to draw us in, to capture us. But if you don’t give up, if you keep at it, you will eventually capture their captivating power. After all, you are far more vast than any impulse, than any experience. You are the open space within which the experience unfolds. But how can you access this truth? This week’s reading begins: כִּֽי־תֵצֵ֥א לַמִּלְחָמָ֖ה עַל־אֹֽיְבֶ֑יךָ וּנְתָנ֞וֹ יְהֹוָ֧ה אֱלֹהֶ֛יךָ בְּיָדֶ֖ךָ וְשָׁבִ֥יתָ שִׁבְיֽוֹ When you go to battle your enemies, Hashem your Divinity gives them into your hand, and you capture their captivity… Life is, in a sense, like a battle ground. If you want spiritual freedom, you have to be one pointed and relentless, like a warrior. And yet, וּנְתָנ֞וֹ יְהֹוָ֧ה אֱלֹהֶ֛יךָ בְּיָדֶ֖ךָ – Hashem your Divinity gives them into your hand – the victory is a gift placed in your hands by the Divine; it is not something you win through effort. So, there’s this paradox – on one hand, you’ve got to have unshakable will, and on the other, total surrender. In fact, there’s no contradiction, because the unconscious impulse is to struggle, to fight with Reality. The impulse to fight is oyevekha– your enemies– and to conquer that kind of enemy requires surrender to the “is-ness” of this moment. אַחַ֤ת שָׁאַ֣לְתִּי מֵֽאֵת־יְהוָה֮ אֹותָ֪הּ אֲבַ֫קֵּ֥שׁ שִׁבְתִּ֣י בְּבֵית־יְ֭הוָה כָּל־יְמֵ֣י חַיַּ֑י לַחֲזֹ֥ות בְּנֹֽעַם־יְ֝הוָ֗ה וּלְבַקֵּ֥ר בְּהֵיכָלֹֽו Only One Thing I ask of the Divine, this I seek: to dwell in the House of the Divine all the days of my life and meditate in Its Sanctuary… These words from Psalm 27 are an invocation for this Kavanah, this heart direction, for the inner freedom that must be ransomed through the consciousness-funds collected in every moment, every situation, every feeling, every thought: Above every goal, above every desire, there must be Only One Thing. קַוֵּ֗ה אֶל־יְה֫וָ֥ה חֲ֭זַק וְיַאֲמֵ֣ץ לִבֶּ֑ךָ וְ֝קַוֵּ֗ה אֶל־יְהוָֽה Kaveh el Hashem, hazak v’ya’ameitz libekha, v’kaveh el Hashem – Hope to the Divine, be strong and your heart will be courageous, hope to the Divine! In this time of Elul, let us remember and practice ever more deeply this one-pointed surrender… Good Shabbos! Effortless Battle: Parshat Ki Teitzei 8/31/2017 2 Comments On the surface, this parshah begins by talking about laws of battle. But on a deeper level, what are your enemies? They’re the intense experiences that we tend to get caught in. You get angry, and you project the blame on something out there, struggling, maybe yelling, or judging, all of which are all about trying to force reality into conforming to your will, or maybe punishing it for not conforming. Or, you have a wonderful experience, and you get disappointed or even depressed when it’s over, because you’re psychologically clinging to the past. But this verse is saying, untano Hashem Elohekha b’yadekha – and Hashem puts them in your hands. In other words, you can have victory over your enemies, but it doesn’t come through fighting or struggling. Your victory is put right in your hand, if you open your hand. Meaning, don’t struggle with your experiences. Fully let them be as they are, without clinging to good things or blaming anyone for bad things, and then let them go when they want to go. It’s really effortless, because it’s not about controlling things, but about relaxing the impulse to control things. That’s why it says, shavita shivyo – you capture their captivity. Meaning, our experiences are constantly trying to capture us, to draw us in to their dream and sometimes nightmare, but if you remember: simply be with this moment as it is, and let it go when it goes, then you easily “capture its captivity” – you can control your impulse to control, and be victorious over your own mind. This is also totally relevant in dealing with other people that may be possessed by collective ego, such as what we are seeing today with neo-nazis and so on. When you see others that are hateful or angry or demeaning, and you get dragged into their drama, judging and hating them back, you only reinforce the context that creates people like that. So even as you stand up for justice, even as you say "no" to ideologies of hate and the people who promote them, remember that you have a tremendous power to make a difference in the world on a very deep level if you can stay conscious and not get dragged into the drama. Because ultimately, it’s only when there’s a profound change in consciousness, only when enough people learn to see through their own egos, only then will the plug get pulled on the destructive forms of collective ego that we see today. And to help make that change in consciousness, there’s ultimately only one way, and that’s to see through your own ego. You’re never going to get someone else to see through their ego by judging and yelling at them, right? You can only see through your own, and in so doing, create a ripple of awakening that will join with other ripples of awakening, until enough people wake up. It doesn’t have to be everyone, it just has to be enough to tip the balance. So on this Shabbat Ki Teitzei, the Sabbath of Going Out, let’s remember that to engage the enemy of resistance, of ego, don’t “go out” into battle, because that only creates more ego, more resistance. Instead, know that untano Hashem Elohekha b’yadekha – Victory is being put right in your hand, if only you open your hand, if you open yourself to the experience of this moment. Then you can "go out" and do battle, but it's not a battle of resistance and struggle, it's a battle of overcoming darkness with light, of overcoming resistance with love. Good Shabbos! The Security of Anger- Parshat Ki Teitzei 9/12/2016 6 Comments Once I was in the Oakland Airport with my family. After checking our suitcases, we arrived at security to find an incredibly long line, winding around rope dividers and culminating with a tiny funnel into only two security gates. There were several more gates that could have been opened to move things along, but for whatever reason, they were not staffed and were closed. Right in front of us, a middle-aged man started cursing angrily. “What the %$^$ is going on here? Why don’t they ^%&$*# open the other gates??” He started verbally abusing the security person looking at IDs and checking tickets. He demanded to speak to a supervisor. When the supervisor arrived, he cursed him out too. The supervisor said, “You just hold that thought, and I’ll go get someone for you to speak to.” I was sorry my three-year-old girl had to hear that language. I was bracing myself for some police to come and wrestle this guy to the ground. Strangely, no police showed up. Instead, he just kept on cursing and venting all the way through the line. When it was time to remove our shoes and put our laptops in separate bins, I didn’t want to aggravate him more with our clumsy family choreography, so I offered to him that he go ahead of us. “Nah, that’s okay,” he said, “I have plenty of time, I’m just mad about how they’re running this place.” He had plenty of time! I saw an interview once with an Indian spiritual teacher who had a novel way of explaining the spiritual path that I had never heard before. He said that the “self” is like a cow in a pasture. The cow always wants to wander outside the field and into the town or woods, but when she does, she gets attacked by wild animals, kids throw rocks, people shoot guns. Eventually, she figures out she’s better off to just stay in her own field. The “field” is the inner heart. When the “self” dwells in the inner heart, according to this teacher, it enjoys union with the Divine. When it gets tempted and wanders outside the heart, it always ends up in suffering. So, in this teaching, the aim is to learn to keep yourself in the cave of your heart. That’s it. To me, this was a wonderful description of Presence. To “wander outside the heart” means to lose connection with this moment by getting lost in the mental narratives that our minds are constantly superimposing on Reality. The mind can dream up something wonderful one moment, but then change to a nightmare in the next. I thought of this teaching when I saw this guy in the airport. Even if he were to miss his flight and his plans would be disrupted, what is really creating his suffering, and hence the suffering of those around him? Nothing but his mind! The mind creates stories and gets all excited about them. It was even more telling to learn that he wasn’t even going to be late. He was just out to make some enemies, to do some warfare. As this week’s reading begins- “Ki teitze la-milkhama al oyvekha- "When you go out to battle against your enemies…” When you leave the sacred place of the heart, when you leave your connection with the present as it is and travel the labyrinth of the mind and its necessarily self-centered stories, you create your enemies and battles. But then the rest of the verse says, “Untano Hashem Elohekha b’yadekha v’shavita shivyo- "And Existence- your Divinity- puts it in your hand, and you capture its captivity.” It’s a strange construction- “shavita shivyo- capture its captivity.” But if you understand that it is you who are captured by seeing the world as your enemy “out there”, then you need to “capture your captivity”- meaning, you need to be bigger than those ensnaring mental narratives. How do you do it? You can do it by understanding- Untano Hashem Elohekha b’yadekha - Existence, which is your own Divine nature, is giving this moment to you. This is both surrender and empowerment: Surrender to the truth of what is, rather than fighting with your idea of what is, and also empowerment to create a narrative that allows you to dwell in the cave of your heart, that allows you to respond not from ego, but from the Divinity that you are… It once happened that a large group of hassidim went to visit Reb Yitzhak of Vorki in a village near Warsaw. In their enthusiasm to get to their rebbe more quickly, they cut through a field and damaged the grain crops with their trampling. One of the employees responsible for the damaged field was himself a hassid by the name of Reb Moshe. Seeing the damage the hassidim caused, Reb Moshe stormed into the rebbe’s room and cried, “Look what these idiots have done! They should be beaten for this! It would be a mitzvah to beat them!”- for this was the custom among wealthy land owners of that time. Reb Yitzhak gave no answer. Assuming that the rebbe agreed with his view, the angry man strode out to have the hassidim beaten. But the tzaddik called him back and said, “When you perform a mitzvah, you must articulate your holy intention by first contemplating and pronouncing the evocation that begins, ‘L’shem yikhud- for the sake of the Unification.’ Since you are a hassid, you should also purify yourself for the holy act by immersing yourself in the waters of a mikveh (ritual bath). So, after you go to the mikveh, and devoutly chant l’shem yikhud, then you can go ahead and perform your mitzvah…” Of course, the thought of performing those rituals to sanctify his "mitzvah" made him realize his own unconsciousness. Embarrassed, he left the rebbe's presence. My friends, before going out against our “enemies”, may we enter the mikveh of the present and connect with our deepest heart-intention for unity and peace. And, may we have the strength of commitment to remember to remember, even as life circumstance and reactive forces try to pull us into the battlefield! Good Shabbos!
Spiritual Awakening through Integral Kabbalah Meditation
In Collaboration with ALEPH 
Three Portals of Presence – Basic Instructions
Come into a comfortable position seated, standing or lying down. I Awakening Place your right hand on your heart, offering your awareness devotionally to the fullness of whatever arises in the present, to the Divine as the present, and chant: לְךָ – L’kha (“For You”) Bring left hand down to your belly, over the navel area, seeing your belly glow with light, radiating outward to fill your whole body with the light of awareness, and chant: נַֽעֲשֶׂ֥ה – Na’aseh (“We will do”) Bring right hand up and touch fingers to forehead, bringing awareness to the space around you, noticing that everything you perceive both within your body and in the space around your body is all arising within your own awareness, and is actually not separate from your awareness, and chant: וְנִשְׁמָֽע – V’Nishma (“We Will Hear”) Kiss your fingers and relax your arms, feeling the three major centers of your body- heart, belly, mind- alive and radiant with presence, and rest your awareness on the flow of your breathing. II- Presence Begin repeating the power words, את יה היא, אַתָּה הוּא – Atah Hu and/or At Yah Hi in your mind. (Atah means both “You” masculine, but also “Now” when spelled differently. Hu means He or It. At Yah Hi means “You are the Divine” in the feminine.) If your mind wanders from the words, gently bring your mind back to repeat the sacred phrase, without judgment. If your mind feels like letting go of the words, you can rest in silence, simply being with your breathing. III- Awakening When you’re finished meditating, repeat the Awakening practice above. It’s good to meditate for at least seven minutes per day, and up to twenty minutes twice per day. You can also meditate briefly any time, and use “Atah Hu/At Yah Hi” to stay present in anything you’re doing that doesn’t take thought, such as walking, cooking, driving, cleaning, and so on…
Integral Kabbalah for the Days of Awe
Class #6: Hod – Humility and Gratitude “El Nora Alilah – Awesome, Transcendent Divine”
There’s a story about Rabbi Yaakov Yitzhak, the “Seer” of Lublin, that once he was confronted by his nemesis, the head rabbi of Lublin, Rabbi Azriel Hurwitz. Rabbi Hurwitz was known as the “Iron Head” because he was such a giant of Torah learning, and he often challenged and taunted the Seer for attracting followers to himself.
“You yourself admit that you are not a tzadik (perfected master); why do you continue to mislead the people by allowing them to come and follow you?” said the Iron Head. “What can I do?” replied the Seer, “The people rejoice in my teachings, so they come.” “This is what you must do,” said the Iron Head. “Next Shabbos, tell them that you are nothing special, that you don’t deserve their adoration.” The Seer agreed. Next Shabbos, when many hasidim came to hear the Seer teach, he told them that he was nothing special, and that they shouldn’t give him honors that he didn’t deserve. But, when they heard his self-deprecations, their hearts were set aflame even more, and they loved him and followed him even more for being so humble. Later the next week, the Seer told the Iron Head what had happened. The rav thought for a moment, then said, “Ah, that’s the way it is with you hasidim – you love humility! Here is what you should do. Next Shabbos, tell them that you really are a great tzadik; tell them that you are God’s chosen one, that you have come to save the Jewish people!” “That I cannot do,” replied the Seer, “I am not a tzadik, but neither am I a liar!” Another time, the Iron Head was berating the Seer as usual for the crowds he attracted. “I am so much more learned than you, yet they don’t throng to me!” “I too am astonished by this,” replied the Seer, “For my learning is not very great, and it is well known that your learning moves mountains. But perhaps the reason they come to me is because I am astonished that they come to me, and the reason they don’t come to you is because you are astonished that they don’t come to you.” The sefirah of Hod, which means “Glory” or “Splendor,” is associated with the qualities of both humility and gratitude. This association stems from the word הודאה hoda’ah, which can mean confession, conceding an argument, and also thankfulness, as in the morning prayer מידה אני Modeh Ani, which is chanted upon awakening to give thanks for being alive another day. The plain meaning of “glory” and the association with humility and gratitude may seem strange, but the connection is illustrated beautifully by the story of the Seer: It is through his embodiment of true humility that others can connect with the Divine “Glory” of his presence and teaching. That’s because this supreme quality of Hod isn’t something remote or separate from us; it is the essence of who we are. But for Hod to shine through, we must be transparent to It; we cannot try to claim It, own It, or possess It. It shines through when the ego bows to It. But how do we do that? There is a hint in the parshah: שֹׁפְטִ֣ים וְשֹֽׁטְרִ֗ים תִּֽתֶּן־לְךָ֙ בְּכָל־שְׁעָרֶ֔יךָ אֲשֶׁ֨ר יְהוָ֧ה אֱלֹהֶ֛יךָ נֹתֵ֥ן לְךָ֖ לִשְׁבָטֶ֑יךָ וְשָׁפְט֥וּ אֶת־הָעָ֖ם מִשְׁפַּט־צֶֽדֶק׃ Judges and officers you shall appoint for yourselves in all your gates– which Hashem your Divinity gives you– for your tribes, and they shall judge the people with justice. - Deuteronomy 16:18 In the plain meaning, this is the instruction to set up a just legal system. But on a deeper level, putting “judges and officers” in your “gates” means first of all to see your thoughts clearly and to know that they are only thoughts. Ordinarily, we tend to be wrapped up in constant thinking, never stopping to reflect: “Ah, there is a thought… and there is another thought.” But when we simply acknowledge the fact that thoughts are just thoughts, there can arise the realization that we are not merely our thoughts; we are not bound by our ego-self, which is based on thought. This seeing and acknowledging of thought is represented by the שֹׁפְטִים – shoftim, the “judges.” Once we recognize that thoughts are only thoughts, that they are not the essence of who we are, we can then choose which thoughts to think and which thoughts to allow to dissipate. It is appropriate that the rav in the story was called the Iron Head, because he was so rich in knowledge – he had greatly cultivated his thinking mind – but his thoughts were like “iron”; he was locked in the prison of his mind. He was completely stuck in ego – that is, he was stuck in that sense of self created from thought. If he had a bit of objectivity on his own mind, he would have realized that his thoughts of being threatened by the Seer and his urge to attack him and knock him down were not useful thoughts; they only served to keep him trapped. He would have said, “Oh well, that’s the old ego (or yetzer hara)” and simply let those thoughts go. This second step, that of choosing to use our minds rather than be used by our minds, is represented by the שֹֽׁטְרִ֗ים – shotrim, the “officers.” Once we have a clear, objective view on our own minds (shoftim), we then have the power to choose which thoughts are worth keeping and which ones are not (shotrim). This leads us to the famous verse: צֶ֥דֶק צֶ֖דֶק תִּרְדֹּ֑ף לְמַ֤עַן תִּֽחְיֶה֙ וְיָרַשְׁתָּ֣ אֶת־הָאָ֔רֶץ אֲשֶׁר־יְהוָ֥ה אֱלֹהֶ֖יךָ נֹתֵ֥ן לָֽךְ׃ Justice, justice shall you pursue, that you may live and possess the land that the Hashem your Divinity gives you… - Deuteronomy 16:20 צֶ֥דֶק צֶ֖דֶק – Tzedek tzedek – “justice” is written twice, to hint: this is not only the execution of justice in the world; we must also work to see the world in a way that is un-biased. We must find the dimension of our own being that is beyond ego. And in this letting go of the need for validation, for praise and for status, the inherent “glory” of Hod, which shines from our essence, can be revealed and expressed in the fulness of our lives…
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Wholly Battle – Parshat Shoftim
9/3/2019 0 Comments שְׁמַ֣ע יִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל אַתֶּ֨ם קְרֵבִ֥ים הַיּ֛וֹם לַמִּלְחָמָ֖ה עַל־אֹיְבֵיכֶ֑ם אַל־יֵרַ֣ךְ לְבַבְכֶ֗ם אַל־תִּֽירְא֧וּ וְאַֽל־תַּחְפְּז֛וּ וְאַל־תַּֽעַרְצ֖וּ מִפְּנֵיהֶֽם׃ Hear, O Israel! You are near, today, to battle against your enemies. Don’t let your heart be distant; don’t be afraid, don’t panic, and don’t be broken before them. (Deuteronomy 20:3) When we bring our awareness into connection with our actual experience in the present moment, there can be a dropping of our ordinary preoccupation with thought and emotion, and the spacious quality of awareness itself appears. שְׁמַ֣ע יִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל Sh’ma – listen/become aware, Israel! This verse begins like the other, better known verse – Sh’ma Yisrael – listen – be aware, Israel! אַתֶּ֨ם קְרֵבִ֥ים הַיּ֛וֹם You are close, today This word for “close,” k’reivim, can mean “near,” “intimate.” Hayom – “today” – of course means Now. It is saying: become aware – come close to this moment… לַמִּלְחָמָ֖ה עַל־אֹיְבֵיכֶ֑ם To battle against your enemies… When we experience emotional pain, the tendency is to recoil, to contract, to project blame upon something we imagine to be the source of our pain. The imagined source – a person, a situation, whatever – seems to be our enemy, and we unconsciously oppose it. But here it reminds us, come close to that urge to battle against your enemies. Notice this unconscious impulse; be the awareness behind the impulse. אַל־יֵרַ֣ךְ לְבַבְכֶ֗ם Don’t let your heart falter… The word for “falter” – yeirakh – is similar to the word for “hip” – the place where Jacob was struck by the Divine being, after which he limped – hence the connection with “falter.” But the hip is also a euphemism for the reproductive organs, the part of the body that is usually hidden. So, al yeirakh levavkhem can mean, “don’t hide your heart.” Together, it means: don’t cripple your heart by contracting! Don’t split yourself in two –whatever disturbing experience arises is literally made out of your own awareness – be present to it and don’t be ruled by it: אַל־תִּֽירְא֧וּ וְאַֽל־תַּחְפְּז֛וּ Don’t be afraid, and don’t panic! Don’t fear your own fear – bring your awareness into the fear. Relax and don’t panic – don’t buy into the drama, simply feel whatever is there to be felt. וְאַל־תַּֽעַרְצ֖וּ מִפְּנֵיהֶֽם And don’t be broken before them! This sums up the entire teaching: don’t divide yourself by imagining there is something in your experience that is separate from you; everything you perceive arises in your own awareness. Furthermore, this awareness that you are is actually far beyond you – it is the awareness of Reality Itself, incarnating as you; it is the Divine, seeing through your eyes. This is hinted at by the construction of each of these phrases: al yeirakh, al tir’u, al takh’p’zu, v’al ta’artzu – don’t don’t don’t! The word for “don’t” – al – also means both “to” (el) and “God” (El). The hint is that when we dissolve our fear by bringing our awareness to (el) the fear, that awareness is actually God’s awareness (El). The Divine Light is ever-present as our own consciousness. When strong emotions threaten to pull us into smallness, into contractedness, our deliberate presence with the emotions actually harnesses their energy for deeper awakening from their drama. יְהוָ֤ה ׀ אוֹרִ֣י וְ֭יִשְׁעִי מִמִּ֣י אִירָ֑א The Divine is my Light and my Salvation, who shall I fear? (Psalm 27:1) Across the River – Parshat Shoftim 8/14/2018 0 Comments Once there was a rabbi who decided to start a yeshivah, a school for Jewish learning. He wanted it to be refuge from the world where young men could grow spiritually, so he built it away from civilization, on the bank of a beautiful river. Many people came to learn. But after a few months, he noticed some commotion on the other side of the river. Many cars were coming and going, and people seemed to be partying and having a good time. When he investigated, he found that that a courtesan had opened a bar and brothel. Lots of rich men came in big cars and carried on all night. He started thinking to himself, “Oy! That’s just what I need! My boys will be tempted away!” Then he became angry: “Why is she wasting her life like that, and leading so many people to sin? She really shouldn’t be doing that!” Meanwhile, it happened that the courtesan looked across the river and saw the littleyeshivah. “I don’t know why I’m leading such a dirty life like this. Look at those holy people! They must be so happy and spiritual, so connected to the Divine, I wish I could be like that!” The two of them contemplated like this for many months, each fixating on the other, when one day they suddenly both died. Angels came to accompany the spirit of the woman to paradise. But a hoard of ugly demonic spirits came for the rav. “Hey, what going on? You must have gotten your addresses mixed up!” “No mistake,” replied the demons, “We’ve come to take you to she’ol.” “But what have I done wrong? I sit and learn and pray and fast and meditate all day, and help these boys to do the same!” he argued. “Yes,” said the demons, “you do all the right things physically, but in your mind, you’ve been doing nothing but contemplating how ugly, unholy a life that woman is living, and so that’s the future you have created for yourself– we have come to the right place!” To live an awakened life doesn’t mean to merely do external practices. It means: totally accept what comes to you with love, even and especially when it’s not what you want, but then also you must actively create what you do want, and you do that first of all on the level of thought. In Pirkei Avot 2:1, Rabbi Yehudah HaNasi says: אֵיזוֹ הִי דֶרֶךְ יְשָׁרָה שֶׁיָּבֹר לוֹ הָאָדָם, כֹּל שֶׁהִיא תִפְאֶרֶת לְעוֹשֶׂיהָ וְתִפְאֶרֶת לוֹ מִן הָאָדָם What is the straight path a person should choose for oneself? Kol shehi tiferet l’oseha – everything that is good to do for oneself, v’tiferet lo min ha’adam – and that will be appreciated by others.” In other words, take responsibility to create the life you want, and share that goodness with others. But so often, we unconsciously do just the opposite– we begrudge what comes to us, blaming others or blaming the world for our perceived misfortune, and then we don’t take the steps we can take to create something better. And, we can often do this without even knowing it, if we’re not aware of our own minds. Like the story, we can seem to be doing the right thing externally, but in our minds, we can be creating the opposite. This week’s reading begins: שֹׁפְטִ֣ים וְשֹֽׁטְרִ֗ים תִּֽתֶּן־לְךָ֙ בְּכָל־שְׁעָרֶ֔יךָ Shoftim v’shotrin titein l’kha b’khol sh’arekha – Judges and officers you shall place in all your gates… How do you guard the gates of your own mind, so that negativity doesn’t sprout and create a personal hell? שִׁוִּ֬יתִי יְהוָ֣ה לְנֶגְדִּ֣י תָמִ֑יד Sh’viti Hashem l’negdi tamid I keep the Divine Name before me constantly… Keep your mind vibrating with a sacred phrase, such as Atah Hu – You are the Divine,knowing that everything arising in your experience are all forms of the One Reality. Like the woman in the story, see the Divine everywhere, focus on the Divine in everything. Then the Divine will be your refuge from all potential danger that can sprout from your thoughts. As the psalm says: אַתָּ֤ה ׀ סֵ֥תֶר לִי֮ מִצַּ֪ר תִּ֫צְּרֵ֥נִי רָנֵּ֥י פַלֵּ֑ט תְּסֹ֖ובְבֵ֣נִי סֶֽלָה Atah seiter li, mitzar tizreini, ranei faleit t’soveveini, selah! You are a shelter for me, from constriction you rescue me, with glad song of rescue you envelop me, selah! Two Steps to Actualization: Parshat Shoftim 8/24/2017 1 Comment Parshat Shoftim begins, Shoftim v’shotrim titein l’kha b’khol sh’arekha- judges and officers you shall place in your gates. So, what are shoftim, the judges? They’re the ones who are supposed to discern the truth of something and then make a decision based on that truth. And what are shotrim, the officers? They’re the ones that inforce the decisions of the shoftim. These two functions in society also represent two functions on the spiritual path as well. The job of the mind is to help us navigate through time and make decisions. For this reason, the mind is constantly judging everything, preferring this over that, pronouncing things as bad and good and so on. Of course, this is necessary, but the side effect is that you can become entirely focused on the incompleteness of everything, and that creates tension and stress. And, the more you experience the incompleteness of things, the more you experience yourself as incomplete, as never quite adequate, because on the level of form, that’s correct. Nothing is ever complete; everything is in motion, everything is needing other things to get temporary completion. Just like when you eat, you feel full, but sooner or later you have to eat again. But as a shofet, as a judge on the spiritual level, you have to "judge the judge" in a sense. You have to see clearly how your mind works; how it automatically fixates on the incompleteness through its constant judging and thinking, and how that creates a sense of “me,” a sense of ego that is also incomplete and needy. Then, as the shofet, as the awareness that sees this, don’t get drawn into it. Don’t get seduced by it. Instead, accept this moment as it is, without preferring that were different, without “rathering” something else. As it says, lo takir panim – don’t give preference to someone – v’lo tikakh shokhad – don’t take a bribe. Meaning, don’t get sucked into the judgments of your mind that have an ego-enhancing motive. This stepping back from your own judging creates a kind of space between you and your mind, so that you can feel yourself not as the inadequate “me,” not as the ego, but as the space of awareness within which everything is perceived, including the feelings of the ego. That’s the first step – shoftim – transcending the mind through awareness of the mind. The next step is the shotrim, the officers. Because no matter how deep your transcendence is, it won’t necessarily make its way into your behavior unless you deliberately choose to turn away from your old negative patterns and create new positive ones. That’s why a few lines later it says, Tzedek tzedek tirdof l’ma’an tikhyeh- Fairness, or justice, you shall pursue, so that you may live. It says tzedek – meaning justice or fairness – twice, because the first tzedek is that you have to be impartial with regard to everything arising in your experience, accepting everything as it is, and then the second tzedek is to look closely at your behavioral patterns and choose actions that embody tzedek, actions that are tzeddaka, that are in the spirit of love, healing, and tikun olam- improving on the world of form, rather than doing things that create or reinforce conflict and suffering. So, on this Shabbat Shoftim, the Sabbath of Judges, which is the first Shabbat of Elul, the month of preparation for the Yamim Noraim, the High and Holy days of up-leveling our relationship with life, may we all refocus our efforts on both of these crucial aspects of the Path – realizing and embodying, realizing and embodying, and may our suffering world please come closer to healing and transformation as well. Good Shabbos! There Goes the Neighborhood- Parshat Shoftim 9/7/2016 One time, I stepped out onto the front porch just before the sun set to daven Minkha- the collection of afternoon prayers. It was such a beautiful evening- rays of pink and orange from the descending sun flickered through dancing leaves in the cool breeze of our Oakland neighborhood. I began to sing the words with eyes closed- “Ashrei yoshvei veitekha- Joyful are those who dwell in your house…” Suddenly, I was startled by a harsh female voice calling to me: “Excuse me, are you meditating and praying?” “Yes,” I answered politely. I opened my eyes to see a woman standing on the sidewalk right in front of me. She over-smiled mockingly and grotesquely, then dropped the smile, revealing a sinister and angry face. “You are engaging in r-r-r-repetitive prayers?” she spurted with a theatrically rolled “R.” She thrust her neck at me and circled her head with her fingers, as if to mock the kippa I was wearing. “Do you live on this street?” I asked her. “You mean do I live in a house?” she yelled at me, “Because I see you certainly live in a house! You sit there in your house with your nonsensical prayers, asking me where I live??” She continued up the sidewalk in a rampage- “Look at this guy in his house! Saying his prayers and meditating!” she screamed and yelled as she continued up the street… then she was gone. When you hear this story, what’s your impression? I imagine people will hear this story in different ways. Some will be shocked at the woman’s behavior, while others will be moved by the problem of homelessness, and others will wonder what I did next. The human mind understands what happens in terms of its own narratives. These narratives are not even necessarily conscious; they are mostly in the background and taken for granted as truth. For example, what if this same scenario unfolded, except that the characters were actors in a play? Imagine you were an actor. You played the guy on the porch, and your friend played the woman. When the play was over, there would be no emotional residue. After all, the play wasn’t real- you and your friend were just acting, so there would be no lingering emotional charge. But when someone comes and assaults you verbally for real in the course of your day, what experience might arise then? For most of us, there would be a sense of being threatened. There may be anger, an urge to retaliate, to defend, and so on. Probably, the first reaction would not be curiosity, openness, or the desire to discover the truth of the situation. My immediate reaction was certainly not curiosity, even though that woman was probably mentally ill. Even though I am incredibly privileged- not just with a house, not just with friends and family who would help me if I were to lose my house, but with a mind that is, for the most part, sane and capable. She seemed not to be privileged in that way. But, even if you may not feel concerned with truth in the moment when someone is verbally attacking you, you still can be committed to truth. And this is the crucial thing: not what you happen to feel in any given moment, not what you happen to think in any given moment, but rather what you choose to be committed to, regardless of the momentary, passing content of your experience. The content of your experience constantly changes, but behind all that change is you- and you can choose. This week’s reading begins: “Shoftim v’shotrim titein l’kha b’khol sh’arekha- “Judges and officers you should place in your gates, that your Divine nature, Existence Itself, is giving you, and they will judge the people with fairness.” The mind has its automatic judgments, but this verse is telling us to intentionally “place the judge in your gate”- meaning, be aware of your preconceptions, your patterns, and don’t be fooled by them. See what’s really happening. Don't over-interpret, and admit what you don’t know. Your behaviors will have their automatic patterns as well, so you also need to have “officers”- concrete practices to help you remember to be aware of the truth of your experience, and not be seduced into embellishments and assumptions. Without these two things- a commitment to truth that you can verbalize and practices you can actualize- your highest awareness will be fleeting, blowing about in the winds of whatever happens to happen. And, the threat is not just from the unpleasant things that happen. Just as unpleasant things can derail you from seeing clearly, so also “good” things can cause complacency and laziness. Seeing truth requires vigilance against all of your own biases; that’s being awake. And when you’re really awake, not to clinging to preconceptions and judgments, the realization can dawn on you- that actually, we don’t know very much. All we really know is what we are witnessing, in this moment. In this freedom from preconception, Reality can be quite surprising: A hasid by the name of Reb Yosef Moshe once visited his rebbe, Reb Yisrael- the Maggid of Koznitz- to get a blessing before embarking on a journey. The Maggid blessed his journey, but added: “Tell me- what do you do when your carriage comes upon a poor man who is going in your direction on foot and asks to be given a ride?” “Why, that happens a lot,” replied Reb Yosef. “My men have instructions to stop for poor wayfarers, and take them to their destination.” “And suppose you came upon a pauper who seemed to have trouble walking, leaning on a stick- what happens then?” asked the rebbe. “I would say that it’s even more important to take in such a person,” said the hasid. “I would say the exact opposite!” retorted the Maggid. “A healthy person depends on their legs. If a carriage comes by, so much the better; if not, one can continue on foot. “But if a person needs a cane to walk, how can they undertake a long journey and rely on the miracle of a carriage to appear at the right moment and take them where they need to go? I would say that such a person is a fraud, and who knows what their true motives are?” The hasid was of course surprised to hear these words. Why would the rebbe say that? He set out the next day on his journey. In the course of the carriage ride, he lay down and fell asleep. While he was asleep, his companions saw a pauper who was limping along on crutches. The pauper waved his arms and begged them to stop and take him with them, so they called to the coachmen to draw the reign and wait until he caught up with them. Reb Yosef, awakened by the sound of their shouting, asked why they had stopped. “There’s a man with crutches, so we stopped to give him a ride,” they replied. As soon as he heard this, he remembered his rebbe’s words and cried out to the coachmen- “Quick! Gallop ahead as fast as you can!” The coachman cracked his whip and off went the carriage at top speed. The “pauper” then lifted both crutches and started running after them! Unable to catch up, he hurled one of his crutches at them in anger. Fortunately, no one was hurt. On this Shabbat Shoftim- the Sabbath of Judges- may we remember to place our discerning wisdom at the gates of our senses, being careful to note exactly what we perceive, without the bias of our preconceptions, and may our true seeing be in service of everyone equally, as it says- “Tzedek tzedek tirdof- Justice, justice you shall pursue…”
Integral Kabbalah for the Days of Awe
Class #5: Yesod – Joy “Rakhamanah – The Compassionate One”
Once, when the Baal Shem Tov was leading prayers in the synagogue, he took so long to finish that all the hasidim left him and went home. Later that day, they came back for the afternoon service and found him still in deep prayer. When he finished, he said to them, “When you left me alone before, you dealt me a painful separation. Let me tell you a story:
“Once there was a beautiful, multicolored bird that flew south for the winter and came to a certain kingdom. The inhabitants sighted the unusual bird nesting up high in a tree, and they brought word to the king of this magnificent creature. The king bade them to build a human ladder, one person standing on the shoulders of another, so that they could climb up to the bird and bring it down to him. But just as the last person to climb up reached the bird, the people on the bottom became impatient and walked away, causing the whole human ladder to collapse.” There is a power in community to support our collective spiritual efforts. It is true, no person can walk another person’s path; the journey to consciousness is one that each person must walk for themselves. But still, walking the path for oneself doesn’t have to mean walking it by oneself. As each of us walks our own paths, we support each other to stay commited and connected to the teachings and the practice. Community is the foundation, the yesod of the path. But, how it is that community functions in this foundational way? To answer that we need to look at another Baal Shem Tov story: As Yom Kippur drew to a close, the time came say the blessing over the new moon. To say this prayer, it is necessary to actually see the moon in the sky. But, on this particular evening, the sky was overcast and the moon was not to be seen. The Baal Shem Tov had the sense that a great calamity was coming to the Jewish people, but that he could avert the calamity, if only he could say the blessing on the new moon. He concentrated all his powers on parting the clouds so that the moon would shine through, but to no avail. Eventually he lost hope, and went into his room, grief stricken about the evils that were to come. Meanwhile, the other hasidim who knew nothing of what the Baal Shem Tov was going through, began to sing and dance in ecstasy, so happy they were that their master had successfully led them through the Day of Atonement. As their ecstasy grew, the throng made their way into the Baal Shem Tov’s room, and they drew him into the dance. His spirits were lifted as he began to move and sing with his hasidim. Just at that moment, a hasid ran excitedly into the room to report that the moon had just become visible, and that they could now say the blessing… In this second story, not only do we see the power of community, but we also understand the mechanism of that power: joy. Joy, or positivity, is the deeper foundation of the path, facilitated by community. Without it, the spiritual potentials of our being are still there, but they remain un-actualized in life; they remain only potentials. This is why the sefirah of Yesod, which represents joy and connection, is the point of connection between the upper sefirot (spiritual potentials) and Malkhut, the world of time in which our lives unfold. This foundational quality of joy is expressed in the Psalm: עִבְדוּ אֶת יהוה בְּשמְחָה בּאוּ לְפָנָיו בִּרְנָנָה Serve the Divine with joy; come before the Divine with joyous song… - Psalm 100:2 But, it is important to understand: this kind of foundational joy is not a negation of grief or sorrow; it is a way of relating with grief and sorrow. In this sense, (spiritual) joy is not an ordinary emotion; it is a quality of the consciousness that becomes aware of ordinary emotions. It is within our power to access this quality at any moment, even and especially in dark moments. There is a hint in the parshah: רְאֵ֗ה אָנֹכִ֛י נֹתֵ֥ן לִפְנֵיכֶ֖ם הַיּ֑וֹם בְּרָכָ֖ה וּקְלָלָֽה׃ See, I set before you today blessing and curse. - Deuteronomy 11:26 Brakhah uklala, blessing and curse, are ever the potentials before us. They are set before us hayom – “today” – meaning, they are not merely consequences that we’ll have to deal with later; they are inherent within this moment. Which shall we choose? אֶֽת־הַבְּרָכָ֑ה אֲשֶׁ֣ר תִּשְׁמְע֗וּ אֶל־מִצְוֺת֙ יְהוָ֣ה אֱלֹֽהֵיכֶ֔ם אֲשֶׁ֧ר אָנֹכִ֛י מְצַוֶּ֥ה אֶתְכֶ֖ם הַיּֽוֹם׃ Blessing, if you listen the mitzvot of Hashem, your Divinity, that I command you today; - Deuteronomy 11:27 Meaning, “listen” – be aware of this moment as it appears – that is the “commandment.” In this deep listening, this being present with the reality of the moment, there can be the realization of blessing, the joy inherent within the awareness itself that listens. And through the window of this fundamental blessing of being conscious, other spiritual qualities can manifest as well, represented by the five sefirot above Yesod: Hesed (lovingkindness), Gevurah (strength), Tiferet (beauty, radiant presence), Netzakh (persistence), and Hod (humility, gratitude). The parshah hints at these upper sefirot as well: וְהָיָ֣ה הַמָּק֗וֹם אֲשֶׁר־יִבְחַר֩ יְהוָ֨ה אֱלֹהֵיכֶ֥ם בּוֹ֙ לְשַׁכֵּ֤ן שְׁמוֹ֙ שָׁ֔ם שָׁ֣מָּה תָבִ֔יאוּ אֵ֛ת כָּל־אֲשֶׁ֥ר אָנֹכִ֖י מְצַוֶּ֣ה אֶתְכֶ֑ם עוֹלֹתֵיכֶ֣ם וְזִבְחֵיכֶ֗ם מַעְשְׂרֹֽתֵיכֶם֙ וּתְרֻמַ֣ת יֶדְכֶ֔ם וְכֹל֙ מִבְחַ֣ר נִדְרֵיכֶ֔ם אֲשֶׁ֥ר תִּדְּר֖וּ לַֽיהוָֽה׃ And it will be that the Place that Hashem your Divinity chooses Its Name to dwell, you shall bring everything I command you – your Ascensions, your offerings, your tithes and those that you elevate with your hands, and all your choicest vows that you vow to the Divine. - Deuteronomy 12:11-12 וְהָיָ֣ה הַמָּק֗וֹם – V’hayah HaMakom – And it will be, the Place… The “Place” that is chosen is the Place we are now in; in fact, the Divine and the Place are not two separate things. V’hayah, “and will be,” is in fact the Divine Name with the letters in a slightly different order, and HaMakom, The Place, is itself a Divine Name. The message is: it is always to This Place that we must bring our offerings. These five offerings embody the five spiritual qualities, represented by the sefirot: עוֹלֹתֵיכֶ֣ם – Oloteikhem – “Your Ascensions” is Tiferet, the transcendent beauty of Presence. זִבְחֵיכֶ֗ם – Zivheikhem – “Offerings” is Hesed, the spirit of love and giving. מַעְשְׂרֹֽתֵיכֶם֙ – Ma’sroteikhem – “Tithes” is Gevurah, the inner strength to not take only for oneself, to give up something for the sake of others. תְרֻמַ֣ת יֶדְכֶ֔ם – T’rumat Yedkhem – “Elevated with your hands” is Hod, which means “elevating” one’s actions through humility and gratitude. And finally: מִבְחַ֣ר נִדְרֵיכֶ֔ם – Mivhar Nidreikhem – “Choicest of your Vows” is Netzakh, which is commiting to a path and following through with consistency and vigilance. All of these qualities are dependent on the foundation (Yesod) of joy, as the next verse expresses: וּשְׂמַחְתֶּ֗ם לִפְנֵי֮ יְהוָ֣ה אֱלֹֽהֵיכֶם֒ אַתֶּ֗ם וּבְנֵיכֶם֙ וּבְנֹ֣תֵיכֶ֔ם וְעַבְדֵיכֶ֖ם וְאַמְהֹתֵיכֶ֑ם וְהַלֵּוִי֙ אֲשֶׁ֣ר בְּשַֽׁעֲרֵיכֶ֔ם כִּ֣י אֵ֥ין ל֛וֹ חֵ֥לֶק וְנַחֲלָ֖ה אִתְּכֶֽם׃ And you shall rejoice (s’makhtem) before the Hashem your Divinity with your sons and daughters, with your male and female servants, along with the Levite in your gates, for they have no portion or inheritance among you… - Deuteronomy 12:11-12 This is the power of community – to lift up one another, to spark the flame of joy in those who have lost connection with their own inner joy. The Haftora hints as well at the renewal of spirit available through Yesod: עֲנִיָּ֥ה סֹעֲרָ֖ה לֹ֣א נֻחָ֑מָה הִנֵּ֨ה אָנֹכִ֜י מַרְבִּ֤יץ בַּפּוּךְ֙ אֲבָנַ֔יִךְ וִיסַדְתִּ֖יךְ בַּסַּפִּירִֽים׃ Afflicted, storm-tossed, uncomforted one, behold! I will lay your floor stones upon pearl (Malkhut) and make your foundations (y’sad’ti, Yesod) with sapphires (five sefirot) … - Isaiah 54:11 Joy is the basic spiritual nourishment, but unlike food and water which must be purchased with money, joy is purchased with something else: ה֤וֹי כָּל־צָמֵא֙ לְכ֣וּ לַמַּ֔יִם וַאֲשֶׁ֥ר אֵֽין־ל֖וֹ כָּ֑סֶף לְכ֤וּ שִׁבְרוּ֙ וֶֽאֱכֹ֔לוּ וּלְכ֣וּ שִׁבְר֗וּ בְּלוֹא־כֶ֛סֶף וּבְל֥וֹא מְחִ֖יר יַ֥יִן וְחָלָֽב׃ Ho, all who are thirsty, come for water, even if you have no money; come, buy food and eat; buy food without money, wine and milk without cost. - Isaiah 55:1 This nourishment is still “bought,” but not with “money,” not with “cost” – meaning, unlike when we purchase with money, we don’t lose anything. Joy still must be purchased – meaning, there is an effort to be made, there is a path to walk. But this effort doesn’t expend our resources, it makes available our deepest resources. What must we do to purchase joy? Just smile…
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Seeing the Whole – Parshat Re'eh
8/27/2019 0 Comments רְאֵ֗ה אָנֹכִ֛י נֹתֵ֥ן לִפְנֵיכֶ֖ם הַיּ֑וֹם בְּרָכָ֖ה וּקְלָלָֽה “See, I set before you today blessing and curse” (Deuteronomy 11:26) This is the message to us in every moment: life is both blessing and curse, pleasure and pain, sweetness and bitterness, fullness and loss. אֶֽת־הַבְּרָכָ֑ה אֲשֶׁ֣ר תִּשְׁמְע֗וּ אֶל־מִצְות֙ ... אֲשֶׁ֧ר אָנֹכִ֛י מְצַוֶּ֥ה אֶתְכֶ֖ם הַיּֽוֹם וְהַקְּלָלָ֗ה אִם־לֹ֤א תִשְׁמְעוּ֙ “Blessing, if you listen to the mitzvot … that I command you today, and curse, if you do not listen…” Both blessing and curse are ever-present features of outer experience. Nevertheless, there is an inner potential for either blessing or curse in how we relate to our outer experience: “If you listen… today” – that is, if you can be present with both blessing and curse, receiving it as mitzvah, as commandment, and surrendering to the truth of your actual experience, then you can notice: beyond the sorrow and joy, there is a blessedness that comes from simple openness to the moment – a blessedness which is awareness itself, which is knowing yourself as this awareness. Then, even the curses are like blessings, because through awareness of the curses, you can come to know yourself as blessedness. “And curse, if you do not listen” – that is, if we don’t receive the present moment as it is, with its mixture of blessing and curse, we forfeit the deeper blessedness which is our birthright and our nature. וְסַרְתֶּ֣ם מִן־הַדֶּ֔רֶךְ אֲשֶׁ֧ר אָנֹכִ֛י מְצַוֶּ֥ה אֶתְכֶ֖ם הַיּ֑וֹם “but turn away from the path that I command you today…” The path is always present before us, if we would turn toward it rather than resist it. לָלֶ֗כֶת אַחֲרֵ֛י אֱלֹהִ֥ים אֲחֵרִ֖ים אֲשֶׁ֥ר לֹֽא־יְדַעְתֶּֽם – “and run after other gods, whom you have not known...” When we turn away from the present moment, “running” in our minds after the blessings we want, or running away from the curses we don’t want, we sacrifice the Real for the imaginary, worshiping the idols of thought and ignoring ever-present Reality. Then, even the blessings can be like curses – taken for granted, missed meetings with Reality. So, embrace life as it is: blessing and curse, pleasure and pain, sweetness and bitterness, fullness and loss, and uncover the deeper blessedness of Being – the blessedness which is not at all separate from the vast openness of awareness that you are: וְשָׂמַחְתָּ֞ לִפְנֵ֣י ׀ יְהוָ֣ה אֱלֹהֶ֗יךָ “And you shall rejoice before Reality, your own Divinity…” The Finger – Parshat Re'eh 8/8/2018 0 Comments One time, when my wife's parents were visiting, we went out for a big family dinner. After we ordered, we waited and waited for the food to come, but nothing came. After about a half hour or so, the family started to get restless and irritated. Eventually one of us called the waiter over to ask what's going on. "Yes, I'm so sorry!" said the waiter, "We're having a hard time in the kitchen, but it's coming soon, I promise!" This happened over and over – he kept saying it was coming soon, it's about to come out, but it never came out. Finally, he came over again: "I'm so sorry – The chef chopped his finger off by accident, but I promise you the food is coming out in like two minutes – I promise!" Oh my God! How horrible! But we kept waiting; ten minutes go by, fifteen minutes go by, still nothing. Finally our five-year-old girl says, "Do you think he chopped off his other finger?" We've all had experiences like this, waiting and waiting for something. There's some expectation that's not getting fulfilled, and a feeling of irritation arises. Then, for most of us, there is a kind of inner separation occurs, a "turning away" from whatever the experience is, a "dis-ease" with the reality of the moment. I might describe it as the opposite of relaxing into a hot tub. It's the opposite of being really tired and lying down and drifting to sleep. It's the opposite of enjoying the moment. There's a dis-ease, a resistance, a sense of judgment that happens almost automatically in the presence of discomfort. But, it's possible for discomfort to arise and not make the decision to disconnect. But to do that, we have to make another decision: to simply come close to the feeling that we're having – to be karov. Then, miraculously, the discomfort becomes less significant, and the more significant thing is simply the energy of consciousness that's taking the form of the discomfort;because underneath the discomfort is your own life energy. It's your own consciousness. Yes, consciousness can take the shape of irritation due to some expectation that's not being met. But when you come close to it – when you say, "Okay, I'm going to be Karov – intimate – with this feeling," then it's just as if you were to relax into a hot tub. That's the that's the profound shift. To do this, it doesn't take much intellect; you just decide to do it. But there are also ways of thinking that can help us be karov. One way is summed up in the phrase, "Gam zu l'tovah- This is also for the good." Once there was a king who had a trusted minister, and the minister would be with the king all the time and give him good advice. One day, when the king was chopping some vegetables, he accidentally cut his finger really deeply with a knife. "Oh, how could I do that? I was paying such close attention!" He calls his minister: "Can you explain to me how I did this? It seemed like the knife jumped out of my hand!" "Gam zu l'tovah– this too is for the good!" said the minister. "What do you mean?" yelled the king. "How could you say gam zu l'tovah? You're out of here! Send this guy to the dungeon!" So the minister gets thrown in the dungeon. "Gam zu l'tovah," the minister said again. A little while later, the king went on a hunt with his hunting companions. Suddenly, he catches a glimpse of a deer and starts swiftly chasing after it, going deep into the forest, away from all the other companions. The deer gets away, and the king is left all alone, lost in the forrest. Eventually he gets tired, so he ties up his horse, sits under a tree and dozes off. A little while later, he hears some kind of weird sound. He wakes up to find a huge lion sniffing him. He doesn't know what to do. He's terrified! The lion's throat is growling as he sniffs. Suddenly, the lion draws back his head, makes a face and runs away. "I can't believe it!" the king says to himself. He calls out for his companions. Eventually they find him, and they all return to the palace. "I'll have to call back my minister from the dungeon to ask about this!" So he calls back the minister and tells the whole story. The minister says, "Yes of course!Gam zu l'tovah! That's why you cut your finger. Just as you are the king, and when we serve you food it should always be unblemished, so too the king of the beasts wants unblemished food. When the lion realized you had this cut on your finger, he thought you were not fit for the king of the beasts, and so he left." The King was impressed. "Very good!" he replied. "But what's so gam zu l'tovah about you getting thrown in the dungeon?" "Well," said the minister, "of course you know that I'm always with you no matter what you're doing. So if you hadn't thrown me in the dungeon, I would have been with you hunting, and I would have been there with you under that tree. Since I don't have a cut of my finger, I would have gotten eaten by the lion!" Can we frame the moment so that we can see the ultimate goodness that will come from unpleasant experiences? Can we relax into whatever the moment brings, so we can be unified with it, so we can be karov? In other words, can we choose happiness over misery? This week's reading is Parshat Re'eh. Re'eh means "see," which is is a metaphor for understanding, for "getting it" – like in English, when someone says, "Oh I see." “Re’eh anokhi notein lifneikhem hayom brakha uklalah- "See- I place before you today blessing and curse.” Right now, there is this choice: blessing or curse. And what are the conditions for blessing or curse? It says it right there: Et habrakhah asher tishma’u el mitzvot- The blessing- that you listen! Very interesting. If you want blessing, then tishma’u – listen! Meaning: be fully present, bekarov, with the fullness of your experience right now... The Holodeck- Parshat Re'eh 8/31/2016 6 Comments Back in the early nineties, there was an episode of Star Trek The Next Generation, in which Commander Data was attempting to learn the meaning of humor. Data was an android, so he had trouble understanding certain human characteristics such as humor and other emotions. To practice his humor, he goes into the “Holodeck”- a place on the ship that creates virtual realities. The “Holodeck” gives him a comedy club scene with an audience, and Data gets on the stage to practice his stand up routine. At first, Data is pleased because the audience roars with laughter at his jokes. But after some time, Data notices something is fishy. He begins to deliberately say things that are not funny at all, but the audience still laughs. Data realizes that the Holodeck computer is simply making the audience laugh at whatever he says. Disappointed, Data leaves the stage. Now, why is Data disappointed? Of course, it’s because his goal is not to simply experience an audience laughing at him. His goal is to get funnier. To do that, he needs a realistic, critical audience to get good feedback. Spiritually speaking, it’s the same. We need the friction of a world with both blessings and curses in order to master the art of life. What is your goal in this life? If your goal is only for the world to give you what you want, you had better get a Holodeck. Then you can program it to do whatever you want it to do. But if your goal is to master this life, then the world is perfectly calibrated for helping you do that! And what does it mean to “master this life?” There was once a farmer named Moishe, who owned many horses. But, after a series of unfortunate incidents, he lost all of his animals except for one old horse. One day, his last horse escaped, leaving Moishe with nothing. The villagers came to console him: “Oy Moishe, we are so sorry. What great sin could you have committed to bring this curse upon yourself?” Moishe replied, “Maybe curse, maybe blessing. We don’t know.” Later that week, just before Shabbos, the horse returned- with an entire herd of wild horses! Moishe’s son was able to move all the wild horses into their fenced field. Instantly, Moishe was a rich man. The villagers returned: “Oy Moishe! What a blessing! Surely you have done some great mitzvah to deserve such a reward!” Moishe just said, “Maybe a blessing, maybe a curse! Who knows?” After Shabbos, Moishe’s son began the task of breaking in the wild horses. While he was working a particularly feisty one, he was thrown and broke his leg. Again the villagers came: “Oy Moishe, I guess those horses were not such a blessing after all! Now your only son is worthless! How will you get any work done? How could you have brought such a curse upon yourself?” Moishe simply replied, “Well, we really don’t know… maybe it’s a curse, maybe it’s a blessing.” The next day, some Russian soldiers came through the village, drafting all the young Jewish men into the army. But, Moishe’s son was spared on account of his broken leg. Again the villagers came- “Oy Moishe! Hashem has surely blessed you by causing your son to break his leg!” Where does it end? Mastering life means getting free from the impulse to constantly judge everything. Of course, it’s natural, and to a certain degree necessary, to judge. But if you are constantly blown around by the shifting winds of circumstance, compulsively judging everything that happens as either a blessing or a curse, isn’t that itself a curse? This week’s reading begins with the words: “Re’eh anokhi notein lifneikhem hayom brakha uklalah- "See- I place before you today blessing and curse.” “Today”- meaning now- there is the potential for either blessing or curse. How to choose the blessing? It goes on to say, “Et habrakhah asher tishma’u el mitzvot- "The blessing- that you listen to the commandments.” There are three levels of meaning here in the word “mitzvot” or “commandments.” First, this moment in which we find ourselves is itself a “commandment.” Meaning, it is what it is. It has authority. We surrender to this moment or we struggle in vain. This moment has already become what it is! The second level of meaning is that “mitzvah” is related to the Aramaic word “tzavta” which means not “to command”, but “to connect”. How do you connect deeply with someone? By listening to them! So the image of “listening” to the "mitzvah" is a metaphor for connecting. When we “hear” what someone is saying, it means that we deeply connect with the speaker- “I really hear you, man!” So if you want blessing and not curse, connect with hayom- this moment- be present to what is, regardless of whether it seems like a blessing or a curse to your mind or your heart. Accept the blessing and the curse- that’s the blessing! Prefer the blessing and not the curse- that’s the curse! But in order to do that, you have to be aware of your situation: “Re’eh- See- I place before you today blessing and curse.” The sense of “hearing” is a metaphor for connecting, while the sense of “seeing” is a metaphor for understanding. We “see” that something is the case- “Oh, I see now!” The automatic, unconscious impulse is to be like the villagers, stuck in the curse of judging blessings and curses. It’s only natural! But to go beyond that, you need to be aware: Simply listen to the fullness of how it is. Let go of the judging mind. Once you do that, you are free. Like Commander Data, you will be happy if the audience is not laughing at your jokes. That’s how you learn. Like the farmer, you will respond to each situation as it is, without the excess drama. And that brings us to the third meaning of “mitzvot”- the plain meaning of “God’s commandments.” When you free yourself from compulsive judgment, seeing the Whole, then you know you are not something separate from the Whole. Your actions flow from that Oneness, in service of the Whole- in service of God. Then, all your actions are truly mitzvot- acts of service to the One. On this Shabbat Re’eh, the "Sabbath of Seeing," may we all “see” our Divine potential in this moment, to “hear” the Divine Voice as this moment, and to do blessing for each other moment by moment, uniting heaven and earth one step at a time. Good Shabbos! -b yosef
Integral Kabbalah for the Days of Awe
Class #4: Malkhut – Sovereignty “Hashem Melekh – The Divine Reigns”
When you hear the word, “Nature” – what comes to mind?
Most likely, a beautiful forrest, a beach, a sunset over the mountains. Probably not the smell of rotting food or dog poop. But these are just as much nature too, yes? And yet we don’t think of those things because for most of us, they don’t invoke that sense of awe and spaciousness that we associate with nature. And yet, if we bring to mind the inner intelligence of the natural cycles and the roles that microorganisms play as we encounter the stinky rotten food, something shifts. The unpleasent smell is still there, but it lives in a greater context; we can still have that element of awe and reverence, if we remember to evoke it. The same is true of the sacred. When we think of the sacred, an image of burning candles or holy texts (or, of course, a forrest or a sunset) may come to mind, because those things help evoke a sense of the sacred. But the sacred is simply the dimension of Being-ness that everything participates in; the sacred is ever-present. Just as in the nature example, we can know this for ourselves, if we remember to become present, to being ourselves into connection with present Reality, and hence with the Presence that infuses all things. There was once a king who decided to test his subjects, so he had all the riches of his palace brought out into a huge field, while he sat on a raised throne in the center. He invited everyone in the kingdom to come and pick one thing in the field to take for themselves. Droves of people came and wandered around anxiously, trying to decide what to choose. Then, a little old woman made her way through the field and up to the king. “Is it true that we can take anything in the field?” she asked the king. “Yes,” he replied, “everything is this field is available. You just have to decide which one to choose.” “In that case,” said the old woman, “I choose you!” This is our task – to not be distracted by all the seductive things, experiences, thoughts and feelings that are constantly coming and going in this universe, but to see through them all to the underlying Reality – to “choose the King,” so to speak. This is the message of Malkhut, “The Kingdom,” the tenth and bottom sefirah on the Tree of Life. “Kingdom” may have a masculine sound to it, but it also is associated with Shekhinah, the Divine Presence which is pictured as a queen, as a bride, as a maiden. Malkhut also represents receptivity, as it receives the influx from all the other sefirot. The message is: all the forms we perceive, all objects, all beings, all perceptions, all feelings, all thoughts – all of it – all are forms of the same One Reality that we call the Divine. The Divine is not remote; it is not somewhere other than Here. All we need do is remember and choose It. The Torah speaks of this choosing as well: וְהָיָ֣ה עֵ֣קֶב תִּשְׁמְע֗וּן אֵ֤ת הַמִּשְׁפָּטִים֙ הָאֵ֔לֶּה וּשְׁמַרְתֶּ֥ם וַעֲשִׂיתֶ֖ם אֹתָ֑ם וְשָׁמַר֩ יְהוָ֨ה אֱלֹהֶ֜יךָ לְךָ֗ אֶֽת־הַבְּרִית֙ וְאֶת־הַחֶ֔סֶד אֲשֶׁ֥ר נִשְׁבַּ֖ע לַאֲבֹתֶֽיךָ׃ And it will be if you listen to these ethical principles and guard them and do them, then the Divine, your Divinity, will guard for you the covenant and the lovingkindness that was sworn to your ancestors. וַאֲהֵ֣בְךָ֔ וּבֵרַכְךָ֖ וְהִרְבֶּ֑ךָ וּבֵרַ֣ךְ פְּרִֽי־בִטְנְךָ֣ וּפְרִֽי־אַ֠דְמָתֶךָ דְּגָ֨נְךָ֜ וְתִֽירֹשְׁךָ֣ וְיִצְהָרֶ֗ךָ שְׁגַר־אֲלָפֶ֙יךָ֙ וְעַשְׁתְּרֹ֣ת צֹאנֶ֔ךָ עַ֚ל הָֽאֲדָמָ֔ה אֲשֶׁר־נִשְׁבַּ֥ע לַאֲבֹתֶ֖יךָ לָ֥תֶת לָֽךְ׃ The Divine will love you and bless you and increase you; blessing the fruit of your womb and the fruit of your soil, your grain and wine and oil, the calves of your herd and the flocks of your sheep, in the land that was sworn to your ancestors to give to you…
וְהָיָ֣ה עֵ֣קֶב תִּשְׁמְע֗וּן אֵ֤ת הַמִּשְׁפָּטִים֙ הָאֵ֔לֶּה –And it will be if you listen to these Mishpatim, ethical principles… Elsewhere in the Torah, the mitzvot are called hukim and mishpatim, which I’ve translated as spiritual practices and ethical principles, but here only mishpatim is mentioned. Why? If a person has no hukim, meaning they don’t do any spiritual practices like prayer, meditation, observing Shabbat and so on, BUT they do have mishpatim – meaning, they are ethical and they do good actions, that’s still a good thing! Perhaps they can improve themselves by taking on some hukim when they are ready, but good actions are the essential part; they are the means by which Malkhut is revealed in the world. On the other hand, if a person has lots of hukim, studies a lot of Torah, does a lot of ritual observance and so on, but they DON’T have mishpatim, they don’t have good actions, it’s better that they not have hukim either, because their practices are insincere and hypocritical. Put another way, they may reach the higher sefirot, but they fail to bring the influx of those sefirot down into Malkhut; the purpose of creation remains unfulfilled. So, the verse is saying: if your actions are in alignment with the Divine, that is the most important thing. And yet, on a deeper level, the verse is actually including the hukim too, but in a hidden way: וְהָיָ֣ה עֵ֣קֶב תִּשְׁמְע֗וּן – V’hayah eikev tishma’un – It will be if you listen… Eikev means “heel.” Its meaning here is “if” in the sense of one thing “following on the heels” of another thing. V’hayah means “It will be,” but it is also the same letters as the Divine Name, in a different order: יה – וה. The idea here is that in order for us to realize the underlying Divinity of everything, then even our heels, the bottom and most insensitive parts of the body, must become sensitive and infused with consciousness. Thus, we might translate: וְהָיָ֣ה עֵ֣קֶב תִּשְׁמְע֗וּן – V’hayah eikev tishma’un – Realization of the Divinity of Being comes when even the heel listens! This is hukim, the spiritual practices that help us cultivate presence, especially the bringing of awareness into the body, so as to become sensitive to the Malkhut dimension of the world, knowing all things as vessels for the underlying Presence. To accomplish this usually takes a certain kind of effort. There are moments when the Presence dawns upon us as Grace, but usually we must actively remember to see through the surface of things to the Divinity at the root. We can see this in the three letters that compose the word Eikev: עקב – ayin, koof, bet Ayin means “eye” and indicates seeing. Koof represents kedushah, meaning “the sacred.” Bet is bayit, meaning “house.” Thus, within the word Eikev itself is encoded the practice of “seeing” through to the “sacred” dimension which is “housed” in all things. The metaphor of “King,” which is the central metaphor of Malkhut and also of Rosh Hashanah, indicates two main kavanot, or “attitude forms” that can help us in our task. The first is the kavanah of service. Just as a subject would serve their beloved king, so too we can direct our hearts and actions toward the underlying Presence, so that we are not merely experiencing the Divine, but living for the Divine, serving the Divine, in whatever we are doing. The second is one of trust, which is the most basic middah of Malkhut. Just as we know that, although decomposition and death can be unpleasant, they are nevertheless necessary in the intelligence of nature, so too are all things and all happenings part of the Divine unfolding. This basic trust of How Things Are is crucial for knowing the Divine in all our ways and transforming our relationship with the world so as to bring about the dawning of Malkhut…
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The Preschool Teacher – Parshat Eikev
8/19/2019 2 Comments The infamous and much hated Rabbi, Menahem Mendel of Kotzk, once visited his little home town where he grew up. While he was there he made a point of seeing his first, early childhood teacher who had taught him the alef-beis, whom he loved very much. Before he returned home, he happened to run into another teacher of his. “I see that you visit your preschool teacher, but you don’t visit me? What have I done to offend you?” asked the teacher. “You taught me things that can be refuted,” replied the Kotzker, “because according to one interpretation they can mean this, and according to another they can mean that. But my first teacher taught me things which cannot be refuted, and so they have remained with me; that is why I owe him special reverence.” The mind tends to dwell upon that which it does not know for sure. That’s because it is the job of the mind to figure out, to conjecture, to approximate, to guess; that’s how we are able to navigate life and make decisions. But this useful tendency often becomes a compulsive habit, usurping awareness away from what we actually do know. Eventually, we can come to give no attention at all to what we do know, and instead invest our guesses, conjectures and approximations with a reality they don’t really possess; this is called “living in one’s head.” Nowadays, people often feel most strongly and defend most passionately (and attack most violently in defense of) things they don’t really know for sure. What is it that we do know for sure? Turn your attention from involvement with your thoughts and “see” what is actually happening, right now. That is Presence – simply noticing and therefore knowing what is actually present in your experience. When you do, there may be a feeling of disorientation or fear. What if thoughts are just thoughts? What will happen if you let go of all that mind generated drama and attend to what is present, to what you actually know for sure? The ego is uncomfortable with this, because ego is the sense of identity that’s built out of our thoughts and feelings. Let go of your thoughts and feelings, and the ego can feel threatened. הָלַ֣ךְ חֲשֵׁכִ֗ים וְאֵ֥ין נֹ֙גַהּ֙ ל֔וֹ יִבְטַח֙ בְּשֵׁ֣ם יְהוָ֔ה וְיִשָּׁעֵ֖ן בֵּאלֹהָֽיו Though one walks in darkness and has no glow, let them trust in the Name of the Divine, and rely on their Divinity… (Isaiah 50:10) The haftora hints that there is an aspect of our consciousness that is forever in a state of not-knowing: ayn nogah lo – has no glow. It doesn’t say that one has no “light” but rather one doesn’t even have any “glow” at all. One absolutely halakh hasheikhim – walks in darkness. But if we can be totally clear about not being clear, if we can truly understand and know on the deepest level that all of our mind’s judgments are guesses and approximations, then we can transcend the ego; we can transcend our separate self-sense that thrives on belief in our own thoughts and denial of the darkness. Then, in that surrender to not-knowing, a new way of being emerges: yivtakh b’shem Hashem v’yisha’ein Elohav – trust in the Name of the Divine and rely on Divinity. That is the letting go – the letting of Mystery be Mystery. Then, we can realize: there is something we can know, if we would only turn toward It: we are consciousness, and we are the consciousness that is conscious of This, Now. To really get this, to know ourselves as consciousness, and to also acknowledge our basic state of not-knowing on the level of thought, we must discern between three things:
Ordinarily, we confuse 2 with 3; we don’t differentiate between our thoughts and reality. We are generally unconscious that we are thinking at all; we merely think and judge, with no sense of the presence of thought. But when we become aware that 2 is actually within 1, that our thoughts are arising within present experience, then we can easily see the difference between our thoughts and Reality; then we can truly know that we don’t know. וְהָיָ֣ה ׀ עֵ֣קֶב תִּשְׁמְע֗וּן אֵ֤ת הַמִּשְׁפָּטִים֙ הָאֵ֔לֶּה And it will be if you listen to these judgments… The parshah begins with the strange construction – v’hayah eikev tishma’un – it will be if you listen... Eikev means “heel,” as in the English idiom that one thing will “follow on the heels” of another, meaning that one thing is the consequence of another. But according to a Hassidic teaching, the hint is that one should become conscious even in one’s heel – that is, the most insensitive part of the body should become aware. Then, when one is fully present, with awareness permeating the whole body, we can make these subtle mishpatim, subtle judgments concerning our own mental judgments, and we can begin to truly know what we know and what we don’t know, and trust in the Mystery. Then, in connection with the Truth of this moment and in surrender to unknowability of everything beyond this moment, the heart is set free. Gratitude arises naturally, and you will know the vastness of who you really are – the simple, open space of awareness within which the fullness of this moment now arises… וַאֲהֵ֣בְךָ֔ וּבֵרַכְךָ֖ וְהִרְבֶּ֑ךָ And (the Divine) will love you, and bless you, and increase you… The Toothpick – Parshat Eikev 8/3/2018 0 Comments I heard a story once of a rabbi who, when he was a little boy, would eat ice cream with a toothpick. When my son was little, I told him this story to try to get him to slow down his eating. A few months later, I saw my son eating ice cream with a toothpick too. I was amazed– "What are you doing?" I asked him. "I want to make it last longer!" he said. Some people want to give their children everything they ask for. But we know that when children get more and more, this often doesn't lead to more satisfaction, but more desire. We call that being "spoiled." If we want to give our children more, we often need to give them less. It's easy to see this with children, but it's the same with us: we can deliberately restrict our intake, as in the example of eating with a toothpick. It doesn't have to be a restriction of food; it can be a restriction of words. Have you ever felt the intense desire to say something, perhaps because someone else was saying something totally wrong, and you wanted to jump in and correct them? Or, you might have the impulse to jump in and stop something. Something annoying happens, like a child is whining and interrupting, and the impulse is to rush and stop it. But if you pause, even when the impulse is to do something totally appropriate (which it often isn't), there's a space for a deeper wisdom to emerge. You can realize: you are not trapped by the impulse. You are, in fact, a vastly deep well of consciousness, and from that consciousness emerges all impulses, all thoughts, all sensations, all experience. And although we tend to reach for satisfaction by fulfilling our impulses, when you discover this vast space, there can be a far deeper satisfaction than the satisfaction that comes from any gratification. "Not on bread alone does a person live," says this week's reading. In other words, if you want to truly live, you can't only be focussed only on the "bread" – the satisfaction that comes from gratification. Rather, true living means being aware of that vast well of consciousness that perceives the "bread." That awareness is always there, and so it's easy to miss it. You can go your whole life and never notice the one thing that is constant! And that's why we have this practice of pausing, of restricting– so that we can slow down enough to become aware of this underlying reality, the reality of your own Beingness, the miracle of this present moment. As it says a little later in the parsha, "You shall eat and be satisfied and bless..." Don't just eat, ve'akhalta, eat and be satisfied, v'savata. Meaning, don't just be satisfied by the food alone, but feel the satisfaction that comes from simply from Being. Then, uveirakhta– bless – give thanks not just for the bread, but for the gift that is always present – the gift of Presence Itself... The Shirt- Parshat Eikev 8/23/2016 9 Comments Many years ago, when I was in college, I was over at the Chabad house for Shabbos. The rebbetzen and I were talking about food and health, when suddenly she jumped up and said she needed to show me a new product she was using. She returned with a bottle of some kind of juice. “Do you know what this is?” she asked eagerly. I recognized the bottle from my father’s house, because my father always had the latest health products. It was a bottle of “noni juice,” which was purported to have amazing health properties. But, there was something funny about the label on the bottle. On the noni juice labels I had seen in the past, there was a picture of a muscular, shirtless Hawaiian man blowing a conch. On this bottle that the rebbetzen had in her hand, the picture was almostexactly the same, except- the man had a colorful Hawaiian shirt on! “Wait a minute! Why does that guy have a shirt on?” I asked. “Oh,” she replied, “it’s because we requested that the company change the picture to a guy with a shirt so that we would be permitted to buy it. It would be forbidden for us to buy any product with a shirtless man on the label.” “But what’s wrong with a man having no shirt?” I asked. “Isn’t the human body holy? Are you saying there’s something sinful about the human body?” “Not at all,” she replied. “The point of spirituality is to make you more sensitive. A lot of secular culture is extremely stimulating, having a desensitizing effect. By keeping bodies covered, we enhance our sensitivity to the sacredness of the human form.” You may or may not agree with the Chabad standards of tzniyut (modesty), but her underlying point is true: The more you get, the less sensitive you are to what you already have… hence the tendency to always want MORE. This is so obvious with children. We want the best for them. We want to give them everything. And yet, the more we give, the more they want. Giving them more and more doesn’t always satisfy them more; it can create spoilage. So, it turns out, if we want to give them more, we sometimes have to give them less. This week’s reading begins with the words- “V’hayah eikev tishma’un- It shall be the reward when you listen…” The sentence is strange, because the word “eikev” really means “heel,” but it’s understood here to mean “reward” or “because of” or “consequence.” This meaning is probably related to the English idiom when we say that something “follows on the heels” of another thing. The thing that “follows on the heels” is the consequence. There’s a “heel” story of the founder of the Chabad lineage, Reb Shneur Zalman of Liadi- the "Alter Rebbe." When his grandson Menachem Mendel was a boy, he would teach the boy Torah. Once, they came to this verse- “Eikev asher Avraham b’koli- Because (eikev) Abraham listened to my voice…” The Alter Rebbe asked the boy to explain it. The child said, “Abraham heard God’s Voice even with his eikev- his heel!” Reb Shneur Zalman was ecstatic with his answer and said, “In fact we find this same idea in another verse- “V’hayah eikev tishma’un- It will be the reward if you listen...’ This verse tells us we should strive to become so sensitive that even our eikev- our heel- should ‘listen,’ meaning that we should sense the holiness that permeates all creation even with the most insensitive part of our bodies.” How do you do that? Be your own parent- restrict yourself. The most astonishing and incredible thing I think I’ve ever seen was on television, several days after a huge earthquake in Haiti. A man was searching day and night for his wife who was buried somewhere under a collapsed building. After something like five days, a voice was heard from beneath the rubble. Men dug furiously toward the voice. Soon they pulled out this man’s wife. She had been buried, no space to move, no food or water, for several days. What did she do? She sang hymns! As they pulled her out, she was moving and singing. She was clapping her hands, crying “Halleluyah!” I couldn’t believe it. Incomprehensible. But there it was: She was singing in gratitude for her life, for the sunlight, for being able to move. That’s sensitivity. This is the whole point of all of those traditional spiritual practices that restrict you in some way, such as fasting. Their message is: don’t keep going in the direction of “more.” Go in the direction of less, even if just for a small period of time. This is the potential gift of suffering. This idea is expressed a little later in the parshah: “You were afflicted and hungered… so that you would know- ki lo al halekhem levado yikhyeh ha’adam- not by bread alone does a person live, but by everything that comes out of the Divine mouth does a person live!” In other words, to truly live, you have to feel your most basic needs. You have to hunger a little. Otherwise, you won’t appreciate your life and sustenance as a gift, as coming from the “Divine mouth.” And, while fasting and other traditional restrictions can be useful aids, you can actually practice this in a small but powerful way every time you are about to eat: Rather than just digging in, take a moment. Delay the first bite. Appreciate. Say a brakha (blessing)- either the traditional one or something in your own words. When you are finished, don’t just get up and go. Take a moment. As it says only a few verses later, “Ve’akhalta, v’savata, uveirakhta- and you shall eat, and you shall be satisfied, and you shall bless…” On this Shabbat Eikev, the Sabbath of the Heel, may we become sensitive to the many gifts of sustenance that often get taken for granted. Most of all, may we be sensitive to the one gift that holds all the others- the gift of space, of awareness, within which experience unfolds. Don’t hurry through the present moment to get to the next thing. There is only one life to enjoy- that’s the one you are living, in this moment. Good Shabbos! -b yosef The Holodeck- Parshat Re'eh8/31/2016 6 Comments Back in the early nineties, there was an episode of Star Trek The Next Generation, in which Commander Data was attempting to learn the meaning of humor. Data was an android, so he had trouble understanding certain human characteristics such as humor and other emotions. To practice his humor, he goes into the “Holodeck”- a place on the ship that creates virtual realities. The “Holodeck” gives him a comedy club scene with an audience, and Data gets on the stage to practice his stand up routine. At first, Data is pleased because the audience roars with laughter at his jokes. But after some time, Data notices something is fishy. He begins to deliberately say things that are not funny at all, but the audience still laughs. Data realizes that the Holodeck computer is simply making the audience laugh at whatever he says. Disappointed, Data leaves the stage. Now, why is Data disappointed? Of course, it’s because his goal is not to simply experience an audience laughing at him. His goal is to get funnier. To do that, he needs a realistic, critical audience to get good feedback. Spiritually speaking, it’s the same. We need the friction of a world with both blessings and curses in order to master the art of life. What is your goal in this life? If your goal is only for the world to give you what you want, you had better get a Holodeck. Then you can program it to do whatever you want it to do. But if your goal is to master this life, then the world is perfectly calibrated for helping you do that! And what does it mean to “master this life?” There was once a farmer named Moishe, who owned many horses. But, after a series of unfortunate incidents, he lost all of his animals except for one old horse. One day, his last horse escaped, leaving Moishe with nothing. The villagers came to console him: “Oy Moishe, we are so sorry. What great sin could you have committed to bring this curse upon yourself?” Moishe replied, “Maybe curse, maybe blessing. We don’t know.” Later that week, just before Shabbos, the horse returned- with an entire herd of wild horses! Moishe’s son was able to move all the wild horses into their fenced field. Instantly, Moishe was a rich man. The villagers returned: “Oy Moishe! What a blessing! Surely you have done some great mitzvah to deserve such a reward!” Moishe just said, “Maybe a blessing, maybe a curse! Who knows?” After Shabbos, Moishe’s son began the task of breaking in the wild horses. While he was working a particularly feisty one, he was thrown and broke his leg. Again the villagers came: “Oy Moishe, I guess those horses were not such a blessing after all! Now your only son is worthless! How will you get any work done? How could you have brought such a curse upon yourself?” Moishe simply replied, “Well, we really don’t know… maybe it’s a curse, maybe it’s a blessing.” The next day, some Russian soldiers came through the village, drafting all the young Jewish men into the army. But, Moishe’s son was spared on account of his broken leg. Again the villagers came- “Oy Moishe! Hashem has surely blessed you by causing your son to break his leg!” Where does it end? Mastering life means getting free from the impulse to constantly judge everything. Of course, it’s natural, and to a certain degree necessary, to judge. But if you are constantly blown around by the shifting winds of circumstance, compulsively judging everything that happens as either a blessing or a curse, isn’t that itself a curse? This week’s reading begins with the words: “Re’eh anokhi notein lifneikhem hayom brakha uklalah- "See- I place before you today blessing and curse.” “Today”- meaning now- there is the potential for either blessing or curse. How to choose the blessing? It goes on to say, “Et habrakhah asher tishma’u el mitzvot- "The blessing- that you listen to the commandments.” There are three levels of meaning here in the word “mitzvot” or “commandments.” First, this moment in which we find ourselves is itself a “commandment.” Meaning, it is what it is. It has authority. We surrender to this moment or we struggle in vain. This moment has already become what it is! The second level of meaning is that “mitzvah” is related to the Aramaic word “tzavta” which means not “to command”, but “to connect”. How do you connect deeply with someone? By listening to them! So the image of “listening” to the "mitzvah" is a metaphor for connecting. When we “hear” what someone is saying, it means that we deeply connect with the speaker- “I really hear you, man!” So if you want blessing and not curse, connect with hayom- this moment- be present to what is, regardless of whether it seems like a blessing or a curse to your mind or your heart. Accept the blessing and the curse- that’s the blessing! Prefer the blessing and not the curse- that’s the curse! But in order to do that, you have to be aware of your situation: “Re’eh- See- I place before you today blessing and curse.” The sense of “hearing” is a metaphor for connecting, while the sense of “seeing” is a metaphor for understanding. We “see” that something is the case- “Oh, I see now!” The automatic, unconscious impulse is to be like the villagers, stuck in the curse of judging blessings and curses. It’s only natural! But to go beyond that, you need to be aware: Simply listen to the fullness of how it is. Let go of the judging mind. Once you do that, you are free. Like Commander Data, you will be happy if the audience is not laughing at your jokes. That’s how you learn. Like the farmer, you will respond to each situation as it is, without the excess drama. And that brings us to the third meaning of “mitzvot”- the plain meaning of “God’s commandments.” When you free yourself from compulsive judgment, seeing the Whole, then you know you are not something separate from the Whole. Your actions flow from that Oneness, in service of the Whole- in service of God. Then, all your actions are truly mitzvot- acts of service to the One. On this Shabbat Re’eh, the "Sabbath of Seeing," may we all “see” our Divine potential in this moment, to “hear” the Divine Voice as this moment, and to do blessing for each other moment by moment, uniting heaven and earth one step at a time. Good Shabbos! -b yosef
Integral Kabbalah for the Days of Awe
Class #3: Binah – The Palace “Akhat Sha'alti – Only One Thing”
Friends – as we count down to this year's High Holy Days with Torah of Awakening and Urban Adamah, we are planning an audio component to capture the music and feel of how we normally gather.
Check out this rough mix of the Akhat Sha'alti, melody by Krishna Das, and Kaveh, melody by me, sung by Jeannette Ferber, Kohenet Yael Schonzeit, myself and all of BRIAH, featuring Gary Lapow on slide guitar, Josh Miele on bass, Yari Mander and Craig Miller on drums and percussion, my son Eidan on guitar and Peter Allan on clarinet: 
Once there was a rabbi who wanted to start a yeshivah – an institution for Jewish learning. After many years of planning and raising funds, his vision was finally realized – the new Torah school was built in a beautiful area out in the country, on the bank of a river. Many young people came to live and to learn, and the rabbi was gratified to see his goal and passion manifested.
On days with good weather, he would often go outside with the students to the river’s edge to daven Minkhah – to pray the afternoon prayer. One day, while they were all outside praying, he noticed that the building across the river (which seemed to have been abandoned) was being renovated and readied for something. Day after day he watched as workers came to refurbish the old building, and he could see that there seemed to be a woman in charge of the enterprise because she was there every day, busily involved with whatever was going on. Eventually the building seemed to open for business, because he saw men coming and going at all hours of the day and night. He wondered, what could be going on over there? Then he found out – the new business was a brothel, and the women he had seen was the head of the brothel. He was so upset – his Torah school was right across from a brothel! How terrible! He feared that his boys would be tempted into going over there; he was angry that his life’s work was being contaminated with such sinfulness and he was filled with scorn for the woman who was responsible. Nevertheless, he refused to change his practice of bringing the students out to daven by the river. It was Spring, and the weather had just become warm and beautiful. One time, while they were all praying, he noticed that the woman had also come outside. He glared at her across the river, and he saw her looking back at him. He was filled with rage and cursed her in his heart. This became a pattern – every day during those pleasant months, the rabbi and the students would go outside to daven, and every day he would see the women. He would try to ignore her, but he was driven by his irritation to look at her, and every time he did, he saw her looking back at him. Soon after, it happened that the rabbi had a heart attack and died. When he came to Olam HaBa, the “World to Come,” he was told that he would not be able to enter right away, but would have to spend some time in Gehinnom (Jewish Hell) first to cleanse himself from the spiritual impurities caused by all his anger and cursing of the brothel owner. So, he willingly descended into Gehinnom. After what felt like an eternity of torment, he was finally cleansed enough to be allowed into the World to Come. He was ushered into Paradise – a beautiful, peaceful place of lush gardens, in which the Divine Presence was palpably felt – and led to a small, modest dwelling, which was to be his heavenly home. It wasn’t much, but he accepted it with gratitude. As he approached his dwelling, he looked around and noticed that there was an immense palace next door. “Wow” he thought, “That must be the abode of some great tzaddik (saint).” “Actually,” said his angelic escort, “That’s the house of the brothel owner across the river; she happened to die the same day you did.” “What?” shouted the rabbi, “There must be some mistake! I mean, I realize I wasn’t perfect, I shouldn’t have gotten so mad at her, but still – I was studying Torah all day, and she was running a brothel!” “Actually,” said the angel, “She studied much more Torah than you did.” “Really? How could that be?” “All those days that you stared at her from across the river, you seethed with anger thinking, ‘What a horrible person she is! Look what a terrible sin she has done, building that brothel and seducing people into sin!’ “But as she stared back at you, she was thinking, ‘What a sweet holy soul that is! Look at what a great mitzvah he has done, starting that yeshivah and nourishing so many with a Torah education!’ Over time, her holy thoughts of blessing toward you infiltrated the rest of her life, until she was almost constantly blessing you in her heart. Whereas in your case, your destructive thoughts of anger and cursing infiltrated the rest of your life, so even when you were studying Torah externally, internally you were filled with scorn…” There is a beautiful Mishna that expresses the essence of this story: רַבִּי חֲנִינָא בֶן תְּרַדְיוֹן אוֹמֵר, שְׁנַיִם שֶׁיּוֹשְׁבִין וְאֵין בֵּינֵיהֶן דִּבְרֵי תוֹרָה, הֲרֵי זֶה מוֹשַׁב לֵצִים, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר (תהלים א) וּבְמוֹשַׁב לֵצִים לֹא יָשָׁב : אֲבָל שְׁנַיִם שֶׁיּוֹשְׁבִין וְיֵשׁ בֵּינֵיהֶם דִּבְרֵי תוֹרָה, שְׁכִינָה שְׁרוּיָה בֵינֵיהֶם R. Hananiah ben Tradion said: If two sit together and there are no words of Torah between them, then this is a session of scorners, as it is said: “And in the seat of the scornful he does not sit…” (Psalms 1:1); But, if two sit together and there are words of Torah between them, then the Shekhinah abides among them… - Pirkei Avot 3:3 At first, this mishna might seem extreme; is it saying that if two people are talking and they don’t discuss Torah, then they are “scorners?” But if we look at it from the opposite direction, it is actually telling us what “Torah” really is. If “scorn” is the opposite of Torah, then the opposite of “scorn” is Torah! In other words, when we speak from a sense of appreciation, love, and blessing – we speak words of Torah. Furthermore, the words we speak form the structure of perception through which we see things; just as the thoughts of the characters in the story formed the abodes for their souls in the afterlife, so too we construct our perception, our inner “dwelling” through our thoughts and words. This is why Binah, the third sefirah of the Tree of Life which represents the activity of thinking, is sometimes referred to as the “Palace.” But, if our thoughts have such power, why are we so careless with them? In the story, the rabbi is a scholar of Torah – how could he make such a mistake? We seem to make the mistake of wrong thinking because we’re not aware of our choice. We get taken over by an impulse and our minds start running; we get swept away by our thoughts. If we want to gain sovereignty over our own minds, then our thinking needs to be balanced by not thinking; thought needs to be balanced by space, Binah needs to be balanced by Hokhmah. (Hokhmah is the second sefirah which represents the field of awareness behind our thoughts.) There is a hint in the parshah, which seems to me to be the first place ever that Hokhmah and Binah are mentioned: …רְאֵ֣ה לִמַּ֣דְתִּי אֶתְכֶ֗ם חֻקִּים֙ וּמִשְׁפָּטִ֔ים See, I have taught you ethical rules and spiritual practices… וּשְׁמַרְתֶּם֮ וַעֲשִׂיתֶם֒ כִּ֣י הִ֤וא חָכְמַתְכֶם֙ וּבִ֣ינַתְכֶ֔ם לְעֵינֵ֖י הָעַמִּ֑ים אֲשֶׁ֣ר יִשְׁמְע֗וּן אֵ֚ת כָּל־הַחֻקִּ֣ים הָאֵ֔לֶּה וְאָמְר֗וּ רַ֚ק עַם־חָכָ֣ם וְנָב֔וֹן הַגּ֥וֹי הַגָּד֖וֹל הַזֶּֽה׃ Guard them and do them, for She is your Wisdom (Hokhmatkhem) and Understanding (Binatkhem) in the eyes of the peoples that will hear all of these practices and say, “Surely this great nation is a people of Wisdom (Hokham) and Understanding (N’Vonam).” - Deuteronomy 4:4-6 These passages begin with a description of the Teaching (“She” – Torah) as hukim and mishpatim. Mishpatim refers to universal ethical laws such as “don’t steal,” “don’t slander” and the like; they are laws that anyone might arrive at through contemplation of right and wrong. Hukim literally means “decrees” and has come to mean the particularistic ritual laws of the tradition, practices that may seem strange and arbitrary from the outside, such as kashrut and Shabbat, but have an inner transformational wisdom to them that you can experience only through practicing them. That’s why I translated hukim as “spiritual practices.” These two elements – ethical behavior and spiritual practices – form the foundation of the spiritual path; neither can replace the other, because it is through spiritual practice that we sensitize ourselves to seeing beyond the narrow view of ego. Without widening our view beyond ego, we can’t see right and wrong clearly; we will always see it in terms of our preconceptions and prejudices. Again, this is why Hokhmah and Binah are both so important. Through meditation and prayer (hukim), we transcend the thinking mind so that we can get free from our preconceptions and prejudices and see reality more clearly. From this clear place, we can contemplate (Binah) the right paths we should take with our behaviors (mishpatim). Thus, hukim and mishpatim are the expressions of Hokhmah and Binah. The text then mentions another pair of concepts: שְׁמַרְתֶּם֮ וַעֲשִׂיתֶם֒ – Sh’martem va’asitem – Guard them and do them. In order for the Teaching to become fully integrated into our lives, we need not only try to practice the Teaching, but we must also “guard” Her. “Guarding” means keeping her forward in our minds; it means making Her into our highest value. Again, this is only possible in an authentic way if we balance our thoughts of the Teaching with space from thought, because it is through the space of Presence that we can experience the Oneness of Being in a direct way; thus, the Divine becomes not merely a concept, but a lived Reality. Finally, the text mentions two different modes of perception: לְעֵינֵ֖י הָעַמִּ֑ים אֲשֶׁ֣ר יִשְׁמְע֗וּן – l’einei ha’amim asher yishm’un – in the eyes of the peoples that will hear… “In the eyes” and “will hear” refers to the senses of both “seeing” and “hearing.” Both of these are themselves metaphors. “Seeing” represents direct perception, because when we look around, we have a sense of what is going on instantaneously; we don’t have to think about it. Thus, “seeing” represents Hokhmah, pure awareness. “Hearing,” on the other hand, refers not to hearing sounds, but to hearing words, and so relies on the thinking process – Binah. We need both – we need to see what is plainly in front of us in the present, and we need to use thought to chart a path into the future – Hokhmah and Binah together. When we bring awareness to thinking and consciously alternate between thinking and resting in silence, our thinking becomes alive, vibrant and discerning, as opposed to automatic, mechanical and closed. This is expressed by four different qualities, represented by the four Hebrew letters which connect to Binah in the Integral Kabbalah version of the Eitz Hayim, the Tree of Life: ל Lamed represents an attitude of openness and curiosity, a willingness to approach the moment with the question: “What is the Divine teaching me now?” פ Pei represents the practice of anchoring the mind in sacred words or phrases that point to the Divine, such as happens in prayer, meditation and text study. This is a core practice of Judaism and many other traditions, universal in principle, though the language and texts are unique to the different traditions. ר Reish represents the recognition of the limits of thought, that ultimate questions are not answerable in an ordinary, conceptual way, and that even with things that are answerable, the thinking mind is always merely the map, not the territory. This is essential for staying free of the mind-created ego that thinks it “knows” and insists on being “right.” ד Dalet represents the recognition that thought itself, along with all other elements of experience, appear in awareness on their own; we don’t create our thoughts and we don’t control them. Through this recognition, we can fully receive our present task of responding to whatever thoughts arise through the activation of Hokhmah and Binah, conscious contemplation and spacious meditation, rather than struggle against our thoughts or become too absorbed in them. All of these are dependent on holding “Her” – the Teaching, the Path, the Divine – in the forefront of our minds. This is the aim of all the mitzvot, the hukim and mishpatim – to give us many and numerous moments in time to open to That which is beyond time, the Eternal Present, the One Thing… אַחַ֤ת שָׁאַ֣לְתִּי מֵֽאֵת־יְהוָה֮ אוֹתָ֪הּ אֲבַ֫קֵּ֥שׁ שִׁבְתִּ֣י בְּבֵית־יְ֭הוָה כָּל־יְמֵ֣י חַיַּ֑י לַחֲז֥וֹת בְּנֹֽעַם־יְ֝הוָ֗ה וּלְבַקֵּ֥ר בְּהֵיכָלֽוֹ׃ Akhat she'alti me'eit Hashem Otah avakesh shivti b'veit Hashem Kol yemei hayai lakhazot b'no'am Hashem Ul'vaker b'heikhalo One thing I ask of the Divine, this do I seek – to dwell in the house of the Divine all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the Divine, and to meditate in the sanctuary of the Divine. - Psalm 27:4
Special Note to all wishing to go deeper with Integral Kabbalah:
Six week class begins August 5th for establishing yourself in a heightened state of Presence and Inner Freedom through the Ten Sefirot and Twenty-Two Hebrew Letters : Mastering Presence Applying the Ten Sefirot and Twenty-Two Hebrew Letters Meditation Practice Six Wednesday Nights, August 5th – September 9th 6:00 pm PT, 9:00 pm ET This course is free and available to all Torah of Awakening upper level members. If you are not yet a member, learn more and sign up for a free month by clicking the link below. After you sign up, you will be given the opportunity to upgrade and join in the Mastering Presence course that begins August 5th. Learn More About This Course HERE. Sign Up for Free Month of Membership and Attend Class HERE. If you are already a member and would like to attend this course, email me and I can help you get upgraded.
More on Va'etkhanan
The Ox in the Field – Parshat Va'etkhanan
8/14/2019 0 Comments A disciple of Rabbi Yitzhak Meir of Ger came to the rebbe with a complaint: “I’ve been trying for twenty years, and still I don’t feel like I’m getting anywhere! If a craftsman practiced their craft for twenty years, they would either be much better at their craft, or at the very least they would be able to do it much more quickly. But with me, I’ve been praying and praying, and I don’t feel any closer than when I began.” “It is taught in Elijah’s name,” replied the rebbe, “that a person should take Torah upon themselves as an ox takes the yoke. You see, the ox leaves its stall in the morning, goes to the field, plows, and his led back home. This happens day after day. Nothing changes with regard to the ox, but the ploughed field bears the harvest.” In the course of our avodah (spiritual practice), there can be times of tremendous transformation, but there can also be times of plateau, times when it seems we are plugging away without much result. At such times, it is good to express any dissatisfaction we may have through prayer, just like Moses pleaded with the Divine: וָאֶתְחַנַּ֖ן אֶל־יְהוָ֑ה בָּעֵ֥ת הַהִ֖וא לֵאמֹֽר׃ I pleaded with the Divine at that time, speaking… Moses is pleading with Hashem to let him enter the “land.” Like the hassid who complained to his rebbe, Moses is saying, “I’ve been leading this people toward the land for forty years – please let me at least enter along with them!” The “land” is a metaphor – in relation to our spiritual path, it represents the fruit of the practice – that sense of coming home into the Oneness, coming home into the present. When we feel the angst of separateness, when we feel like an ox that goes on day after day with the same old routine, don’t hold back – cry out in prayer! Va’etkhanan! But then listen for the Divine response: רַב־לָ֔ךְ אַל־תּ֗וֹסֶף דַּבֵּ֥ר אֵלַ֛י ע֖וֹד בַּדָּבָ֥ר הַזֶּֽה׃ “Too much of you! Do not increase your words to me about this thing!” That separate self-sense, the “me” that thinks and speaks and acts, is the “ox.” The truth is, the ox will always be an ox. At some point, we need to give up on all this “me” – Rav lakh! Too much of you! – and discover the aspect of our being that is silence – Al tosef daber! Do not increase your words! In that silence we can discover the other aspect of our being – the deep, vast, boundless “field.” This is not to deny or devalue the “ox” in any way; we need the ox. We need to organize our lives and set aside time for practice. But just as the ox cannot become the field, just as Moses cannot enter the land but must die outside the land, so too we must let go of this self-ness and recognize the aspect of ourselves that is beyond the ox. The truth is, on the deepest level, we already are the field. עֲלֵ֣ה רֹ֣אשׁ הַפִּסְגָּ֗ה וְשָׂ֥א עֵינֶ֛יךָ “Ascend to the top of the cliff and raise up your eyes…” Moses climbs up the cliff and sees the “land” from afar, and there he dies. Similarly, we can understand the goal with our minds, but that is only a “seeing from afar.” To truly enter the “land,” we must discover what is beyond the ox-self. Alei rosh – elevate the head – recognize that beneath all the content, you are simple awareness, totally transcendent of your thoughts, feelings, and experiences. How do you do that? V’sa einekha – raise up your eyes – “see” whatever is arising in your awareness, right now; be the transcendent space within which this moment unfolds. In this way, prayer leads to silence, and you can make that shift from being the “ox” to being the “field” – the vast field of silent Presence, beneath the thoughts, beneath the words. A rabbi once asked Menachem Mendel of Vorki, “Where did you learn the art of silence?” Menachem Mendel was about to respond, but then he changed his mind and said nothing... A Little Less Salt – Parshat Ve'etkhanan 7/26/2018 0 Comments There's an old episode of All in the Family where Gloria is cooking something in the kitchen. "Ma, can you taste this and let me know if it needs anything?" "Sure Gloria," says Edith. She takes a bite, contemplates the flavor a bit and says, "I think it needs... a little less salt!" Salt is absolutely necessary, but you don't want too much. And just like salt, our thinking is something we can't do without, but most of us have way too much of it. Thinking is so compulsive that we have no idea what life would feel like with less thinking and more Presence. But let your mind relax, and you can realize: the present moment is spacious, beautiful and alive with magic. And though there are certainly disturbing a traumatic things that can and do happen, it's mostly the movement of our minds that creates all our tension, fear, and stress. Of course, we need to think in order to decide, to know how to proceed. But when the thinking has accomplished its goal, then we can let it go and simply be, even as we act. Our beingness can be an offering, an act of love that shines through our actions, once the mind relaxes. As the old parable goes: once you take the boat across the river, you don't have to drag the boat around with you. Let it go. Use the mind to cross the "river" of your next decision, but then let your thoughts go and move into the present. Two rabbis were traveling on foot together, a younger and a senior, and they came to a shallow river. They took off their shoes and began to wade across, when a young woman called to them. "I need help getting across please!" The senior rabbi picked her up and carried her across on his back. When they reached the other side, the woman thanked them and went her way. As the two rabbis walked together in silence for an hour or so, the younger became withdrawn and tense. Finally, the younger one could no longer restrain himself: "How could you have done that! The halakhah clearly forbids touching a young woman, let alone putting her on your back!" "Look at you," replied the senior. "I only carried her across the river, but you are still carrying her!" In this week's reading, Moses speaks to the Israelites as they too are about to cross a river: "Va'etkhanan el Hashem – I implored the Divine... please let me cross this river Jordan and see the good land!" But Moses was not allowed to cross; he had to die before the Israelites that he had led for forty years could cross over without him. Have you ever worked hard for something you really wanted, but once you achieved it, you didn't feel the sense of achievement you thought you would because YOU were not the same person anymore? The mind thinks, figures out, navigates, decides. If you want to cross over into the promised land, if you want the inner freedom that is your nature and birthright, you must decide; you must commit to it. You need your mind for that. But to truly achieve the Goal, you have to then let "Moses" die, so to speak, and discover the deeper "You" beneath your thoughts. No More "Rather-ing"! Parshat Va'etkhanan 8/7/2017 6 Comments “Va’etkhanan el Hashem ba’eit hahi- I implored Hashem at that time…” This parsha opens with Moses imploring God to enter the Promised Land, ba’eit hahi – At that other time, I implored – at that time, and not at this time. I just got back yesterday from a two-week trip with my family to Italy. I am blessed to have such amazing parents-in-laws who, ba’eit hazeh, at this time, can choose however they want to spend their time, and they chose to take our whole mishpakha on vacation with them for their fiftieth anniversary. At one point in Rome, we had split up into two different cabs, and I was in a cab alone with Lisa’s father, who we call Poppi Normy. Poppi said to me ba’eit hahi, at that time, “So, Brian – are you enjoying yourself or would you rather be at some ashram in India?” I replied, “Well, I don’t really put energy into rather-ing things.” He was silent for a moment, and then said, “I get that. That’s good. I’m going to eliminate ‘rather’ from my vocabulary.” And then I said, “I’ll use this story in my next drash.” So, what does it mean to not “rather” something? It doesn’t mean that you can’t make good judgements. It doesn’t mean that you don’t take yourself out of an undesirable situation, or that you don’t help to make things better for yourself or others, it just means that whatever your experience is, in whatever situation you find yourself in, you don’t put mental and emotional energy into wishing things were different. You first of all accept the moment as it is, and then do whatever you do from this place of openness and surrender. If you’re familiar with Musar, the Jewish practice of cultivating character traits, you might recognize “not-rather-ing” as Equanimity, known as menukhat hanefesh or shivyon nefesh, but it’s important to understand that this is not merely a character trait; it’s not something that you add on to your personality, but rather it’s a quality of Presence – a quality inherent within your field of awareness that is underneath your personality, underneath your thoughts, underneath your feelings. And while your thoughts and feelings are always flowing and changing, awareness is the background against which your thoughts and feelings are happening. So, when you shift from feeling that “I am this personality, I am these thoughts and feelings,” into knowing yourself as the field of Presence within which your thoughts and feelings are happening, then Equanimity is very natural, because awareness itself is never preferring one thing over another thing; it’s simply open to whatever there is to perceive in the present moment – that’s why it’s called “Presence.” So when Moshe says, “Va’etkhanan el Hashem ba’eit hahi- I implored Hashem at that time,” it’s saying, “I implored that I should be at some other time, at a time other than this moment. I don’t want to be here, I want to get to the Promised Land. But God says, no – “Alei rosh hapisgah- ascend to the top of the cliff- v’sa einekha- and raise up your eyes…” Now the expression for “ascend to the top of the cliff” begins, “Alei rosh,” which literally means, “Raise up the head.” Meaning, get out of your head. Don’t be so identified with your own opinions, with your emotional reactions and so on. How do you do that? “v’sa einekha- and raise up your eyes,” meaning, instead of putting energy into judging, into “rather-ing,” simply see what’s happening in this moment. Be the witnessing Presence within which your present experience is unfolding. On this Shabbat Va’etkhanan, the Sabbath of Imploring, may our prayer lead us to deeper connection with Hashem Who is constantly incarnating as the fullness of this moment,ba’eit hazeh – in this moment! Good Shabbos! The Acceptance of Rejection- Parshat Va'etkhanan 8/17/2016 4 Comments When I was in the fifth grade I went to a summer camp called, “Le Camp.” It was a day camp, so every day I was schlepped back and forth by my parents- except for one day. Once per summer, we had a sleepover. The sleepover evening would begin with a dance in the barn. Later, we slept in our sleeping bags out in a huge field. I was at the age when girls were first becoming interesting. During the dance part, there was a girl I was dancing with for most of the night. I guess I got it in my head that this girl liked me, and during the sleeping-bags-in-the-field part, I kept trying to sneak out of the “boys area” and into the “girls area” so I could go see her. At some point a counselor caught me. “Brian, stop bothering the girls!” “No you don’t understand,” I pleaded (etkhanan), “they want me to be here!” after which that girl and several of her friends cried out, “NO WE DON’T!” Rejection! Sometimes we think we are wanted, but we are not. That’s just the truth. The person who thinks he’s wanted despite all protestations is an egomaniac. Kids can be like egomaniacs sometimes, and at some point, the delusion is toppled: “No, you really are annoying the hell out of me and I want you to STOP!” But these kinds of hurtful childhood experiences can also create another kind of misperception into adulthood: it can create a self-image that you have nothing to offer, that people don’t need or want you. Recently I was in a situation where I wanted to help someone, but I wasn’t being asked for help. In my post “LeCamp” psychology, I didn’t offer anything, because I thought that if my help was wanted, I would be asked. As time went on, however, I could see that I would never be asked- not because my help wasn’t wanted, but because the person wasn’t comfortable asking. So, I gathered my will against my personality, offered my help directly, and it was promptly accepted! So easy. In this week’s reading, Moses tells the Israelites about how he pleaded (etkhanan) with God to let him enter the Promised Land. Moses says: “Va’etkhanan el Hashem baeit hahi leimor- "I pleaded with God at that time, saying… please let me cross and see the good land on the other side of the Jordan!” But God doesn’t let him. Moses, the beloved prophet who “knows God face to face” is rejected. But does Moses develop a bad self-image and stop doing his job? Not at all. A few verses later, Moses says: “V’atah Yisrael sh’ma- "And now Israel, listen!” He then goes on teaching them the Torah that he was called upon to transmit. Sometimes our offers are accepted, and sometimes they are rejected. But if you shut down when you are rejected and stop offering, you may miss your real calling. And furthermore, what’s wrong with being rejected anyway? If rejection feels bad, it’s because there is a self-image that is feeding off the desire to be appreciated. That ego, that separate self-sense, is quite natural, but ultimately it is a burden. When the ego is bruised, take that as medicine. Accept the pain- let it burn away the ego’s substance. Ultimately, the pain will be liberating, and in that liberation is real intimacy- intimacy with the plain and radiant present, with the simple bliss of being. After all, when you are pleading for something, it’s because you desire some kind of completion. But when the pain of rejection burns away the very source of incompleteness, then the rejection itself can actually be the fulfillment! There is a story that Reb Beirish of Alisk once went to spend Shabbos with his childhood friend-turned-rebbe, Reb Uri of Strelisk. At the Shabbos table, Reb Uri turned to his hassid: “Rav of Alisk! Could you perhaps honor us with some spontaneous words of Torah, some words that you have not prepared?” Immediately Reb Beirish answered, “It is written, ‘Va’etkhanan el Hashem ba eit hahi leimor- I pleaded with God at that time, saying.’ You see, in order for me to say something spontaneously at that time- meaning at this time, unprepared, I have to plead with God! Reb Beirish had nothing to say except his plea that he should have something to say, and that plea itself became his words of Torah! On this Shabbat V’etkhanan, the Sabbath of Pleading, may you be blessed with the confidence to know that you are needed for something quite unique, something no one else can offer. And, when your offerings are rejected, may you be blessed to bring your awareness deep into the present experience of that rejection, so that any trace of the “Wounded Me” gently dissolves into the spacious calm of the Timeless. Good Shabbos! What Prayer is Answered Instantaneously? 8/16/2016 4 Comments This week’s reading begins: “Va’etkhanan el Hashem- I implored Hashem at that time saying: You have begun to reveal Your Greatness…” The word for “I implored” is ethanan- from the word hein, which means “grace.” To “implore” is to beg for grace. What "grace" is being prayed for? The revelation of God's "Greatness." But this "Greatness" is not something separate from you; it's the revelation of your own being. It is "great" in the sense that it is far more spacious than anything within your experience; it's the space within which all experience arises- the space of awareness itself. In Pirkei Avot 3:18, Rabbi Akiva says: “Haviv Adam shenivra v’tzelm- Beloved are human beings, for they are created in the Divine Image…” The Divine, or Reality, expresses Its Greatness as your own awareness. Rabbi Akiva calls us “beloved” because of this gift- the gift of our Divine Greatness. Then he says, “Hibah yeteirah noda’at lo shenivra v’tzelem- It is indicative of an even greater love that our Divine Image is made known to us…” In other words, though our Divine Greatness is a wonderful gift, it doesn’t do us much good unless it’s made known to us, unless we experience the Infinite directly. To experience your Divine Greatness is the greatest gift, the Supreme Grace, because it’s the revelation of your own being, something that can never be taken away. But your Divine Greatness is not really hidden; it’s just that your awareness is always looking at everything except Itself, so it can be difficult to notice. But if you ask for grace, if you implore God to reveal your Divine Greatness to you, the prayer itself helps you open to the truth of this moment. Then, your prayer is answered- instantaneously. Try it- “Oh Hashem, please reveal to me my own Divine Greatness, the place in me that is free, spacious, that allows everything to be as it is...” Then, notice- this moment is complete- sensation, feeling, thought- all arising in the space of this moment, which is awareness itself, free and open, complete and miraculous, the Divine Greatness...
Integral Kabbalah for the Days of Awe
Class #2: Hokhmah – Spaciousness “Hashiveinu – Return AGAIN”
Friends – as we count down to this year's High Holy Days with Torah of Awakening and Urban Adamah, we are planning an audio component to capture the music and feel of how we normally gather.
Check out this rough mix of the Hashiveinu by Shlomo Carlbach, sung by Jeannette Ferber, Kohenet Yael Schonzeit, myself and all of BRIAH, featuring Jason Ditzian on clarinet, Josh Miele on bass, Yari Mander and Craig Miller on drums and percussion:
Some disciples of Reb Pinhas of Korets once asked him why, when he prayed, was he not wildly ecstatic in his devotions the way many other Hasidim were. Reb Pinhas replied, “As you know, the point of prayer is to divest oneself from all separateness, to merge with the Divine, and this is a kind of death. Our sages tell us that there are two kinds of death – there is the kind of death that is as hard a rope being pulled through the ring of a mast, and there is the kind of death that is as easy as removing an eyelash from a glass of milk. It is the second kind of death that I have been granted in my prayer.”
The Reality that we call “Divine” is nothing but the “Being-ness” of things; it is the basic “Is-ness,” the Mystery of Existence Itself. As such, we are never and can never be separate from It. But, we generally remain unconscious of this fact, because the “Is-ness” of our own being – that dimension of our experience that is devoid of specific quality yet glowing softly behind all qualities – is consciousness itself, and consciousness tends to be aware of objects rather than its own subject-hood. This is not to say that we are not aware of our “selves” – just the opposite. As we move through the world, we tend to split reality into two parts – “me” and “everything else.” The problem is that we don’t know who “me” really is; we assume we are our thoughts, our feelings, our stories. We feel we are a spirit trapped in our bodies, looking out. We identify with one small aspect of ourselves – the aspect of thoughts and feelings – and call that “me.” But this ordinary “me” is actually just another object among objects, perceived by and living within the vast field of awareness that we are. This field of awareness, formless and borderless, is the true “I” hidden within plane sight, the vast inner “heavens” within which the “earth” of all particular experiences come and go: בְּרֵאשִׁ֖ית בָּרָ֣א אֱלֹהִ֑ים אֵ֥ת הַשָּׁמַ֖יִם וְאֵ֥ת הָאָֽרֶץ׃ In the beginning (Bereisheet), Elohim created the heavens and the earth… (Genesis 1:1) This first pasuk of the Torah hints at this fundamental duality of our experience – the shamayim, the “heavens” of consciousness and the aretz, the “earth” of everything else that is perceived by consciousness. And yet, within this hidden duality there is actually an even more deeply hidden unity, because everything we perceive is literally a form of consciousness. For example, look at your hand. Ordinarily you might think that you are perceiving something that exists separate from the perception, that the hand exists whether you are looking at it or not. And this is most likely true. But, the image of the hand that you perceive is something that lives entirely within your field of awareness. The real hand might be separate, but your perception of the hand is an image that is literally made from the ethereal substance of consciousness itself. On this level of actual experience, the duality of perception and perceived collapses into one – there is only consciousness, taking on different forms and perceiving those different forms. This is hinted at by the Divine Name: בְּרֵאשִׁ֖ית בָּרָ֣א אֱלֹהִ֑ים – Bereisheet Bara Elohim – In the beginning, Gods was creating… Elohim means “gods” – it is a plural word, conjugated in the singular: bara – “was creating.” This fusion of plural and singular is an expression of this basic fact of experience, of the multiplicity of experience all being part of one reality we call consciousness. In Kabbalah, this field of awareness within which thought arises is called Hokhmah, “Wisdom,” and is the second sefirah of the Tree of Life. The connection between hokhmah and our opening pasuk is further expressed in this verse from Psalms: רֵאשִׁית חָכְמָה יִרְאַת יְהֹוָה, שֵֽׂכֶל טוֹב לְכָל עֹשֵׂיהֶם, תְּהִלָּתוֹ עוֹמֶֽדֶת לָעַד: The beginning of wisdom (reisheet hokhmah) is awe of the Divine, good comprehension comes to all who practice this; praise of the Divine endures eternally… (Psalm 111:10) That is, if we wish to recognize hokhmah, the field of awareness that is the reisheet, the “beginning” or root of all experience, we should begin with yirat Hashem – that is, respect and awe for the Mystery of Being that is behind all existence, from which nothing is separate. Why? Because our consciousness is a microcosm of Reality as a Whole: Just as the entire content of our experience is not separate from the consciousness that perceives it all, so too all things are not separate from the “Is-ness” from which and within which everything springs and eventually returns. The Divine is Elohim, encompassing the multiplicity of all things, and is also Yod-Hei-Vav-Hei, the underlying Being-ness of it all. This is why God is also HaMakom – the “Place” within which everything is happening. This realization is both the method and the fruit of meditation. There is a hint in the parshah: אֵ֣לֶּה הַדְּבָרִ֗ים אֲשֶׁ֨ר דִּבֶּ֤ר מֹשֶׁה֙ These are the words that Moses spoke… (Deuteronomy 1:2) “These” is eleh, and “words” is devarim, which also means “things.” When we place together the last part of devarim (im) with eleh, we get Elohim, the Divine Unity that expresses Itself in all multiplicity. All words (devarim) arise first as thoughts within the field of consciousness, just as all things (devarim) arise within the open field of Existence. These two fields, the micro and the macro, are represented by “Moses,” which is Mosheh – מֹשֶׁה – mem, shin, hei. Each of these three letters represent a particular quality of consciousness (micro) and Being-ness (macro): מ Mem is mayim, water, effortlessly taking the shape of whatever vessel it enters, just as consciousness takes the shape of whatever is perceived, and Being takes the shape of all things. ש Shin is fire, making light which radiates light infinitely outward and meets whatever it falls upon, just as consciousness perceives whatever it meets without discrimination, and the underlying (Divine) “Presence” of Being give existence to and shines from all things, without discrimination. ה Hei is the “H” sound, the sound of the breath, which is air – the medium within which our lives unfold. The breath is also the medium of words (devarim) as speech, just as thought arises spontaneously in the field of consciousness, and all things arise within the “space” of Reality. There is also a hint in the haftora: שִׁמְע֤וּ שָׁמַ֙יִם֙ וְהַאֲזִ֣ינִי אֶ֔רֶץ כִּ֥י יְהוָ֖ה דִּבֵּ֑ר בָּנִים֙ גִּדַּ֣לְתִּי וְרוֹמַ֔מְתִּי וְהֵ֖ם פָּ֥שְׁעוּ בִֽי׃ Hear, O heavens, and give ear, O earth, For the Divine has spoken: “Children I have made great and exalted — And they have rebelled against Me! (Isaiah 1:2) Not only do the “heavens” of awareness “hear,” but “earth” as well – because the “earth” of our perceptions are also made from awareness; the realization of this is the bringing together of heaven and earth within our own being, a small but crucial and irreplaceable step in the bringing together of heaven and earth in the world. How do we do this? The key is to return frequently to the Truth of who we really are. It is natural for the momentum and drama of life to pull us away from this Truth, and there is nothing wrong with that. Just as we must stop breathing for a moment to swallow food and water, so too we must temporarily turn away again and again from the Truth of our being to accomplish things in time. The crucial thing, however, is to start breathing again after we swallow – that is, to Return, and to Return frequently. How do we do that? הֲשִׁיבֵֽנוּ יְהֹוָה אֵלֶֽיךָ וְנָשׁוּבָה חַדֵּשׁ יָמֵֽינוּ כְּקֶֽדֶם Hashiveinu Adonai Eilekha V’nashuvah Hadeish Yameinu K’kedem Return us, Hashem, to You, and we will return; renew our days as in the beginning… (Lamentations, Eikha, 5:21) Expressing the desire of the heart to return is itself to return. The traditional practice is to daven three times per day, plus the many small prayers and blessings that are said throughout the day. The point is to frequently leave behind the time and mind-bound separate self-sense, and to “remove the eyelash from the milk” again and again, thereby stitching together the world of time with the Eternal Present, binding words to the wordless, connecting our deeds back to the silent field within which they unfold…
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Six week class begins August 5th for establishing yourself in a heightened state of Presence and Inner Freedom through the Ten Sefirot and Twenty-Two Hebrew Letters : Mastering Presence Applying the Ten Sefirot and Twenty-Two Hebrew Letters Meditation Practice Six Wednesday Nights, August 5th – September 9th 6:00 pm PT, 9:00 pm ET This course is free and available to all Torah of Awakening upper level members. If you are not yet a member, learn more and sign up for a free month by clicking the link below. After you sign up, you will be given the opportunity to upgrade and join in the Mastering Presence course that begins August 5th. Learn More About This Course HERE. Sign Up for Free Month of Membership and Attend Class HERE. If you are already a member and would like to attend this course, email me and I can help you get upgraded.
More on Devarim...
The Lifeguard – Parshat Devarim
8/7/2019 0 Comments I have a memory of being very young, maybe three or four, and my parents (probably mistakenly) took me to some kind of vacation resort. We were by the pool, and I saw someone running. I had heard that running wasn’t allowed, so I went up to the lifeguard in his tall chair and yelled up to him: “Is it true that there’s no running allowed around the pool?” “That’s right,” he said. “Okay,” I answered, and proceeded to dart off past him. In an instant, he tossed his whistle up in the air, caught it in his mouth, and emitted a piercing whistle blast that caught me in my tracks. I froze. “Don’t you run,” he said. I had been thinking about the other person I saw running, and my brain hadn’t applied the rule to myself. How similar it is with remembering not to “run” away with our own thoughts and feelings… It’s relatively easy to see when someone else is trapped by their thoughts and feelings. We see someone being defensive, angry, or complaining, or blaming, and it’s easy to diagnose. But when we become annoyed with that person for getting caught, how easy it is to get caught ourselves; we resist the resistance of others, and can’t see that we ourselves are resisting. While it would certainly be desirable for everyone to wake up from the dream of ego, we can only ever wake up ourselves. Yes, there is a synergy between people; awakening begets more awakening, and unconsciousness begets more unconsciousness. But at the end of the day, the choice to awaken – meaning, the choice to receive and accept this moment as it is – is an essentially individual matter; you can only do it for yourself, right now. So, in the moment that we perceive the ego of someone else and forget to be aware of our own, we must remember: there is only one time to be awake, and that time is always now. This can be difficult because now is constant; we tend to be unconscious of things that are constant, like our breathing, for example. But how can we constantly remember? The key is to use that which is not constant to remind us of the constant, to use time and change to stay awake to the Changeless and the Timeless. וֶהֱוֵי זָהִיר בְּמִצְוָה קַלָּה כְבַחֲמוּרָה Be careful with a light mitzvah as with a grave one… -Pirkei Avot, 2:1 There are lesser and greater mitzvot; obviously, the mitzvah to light a Shabbat candle is not as great as the mitzvah of not murdering someone, for example. And, yet, this mishna is saying we should be just as careful with the lesser ones as with the greater ones. How can this be? If we should be just as careful with the lesser ones as with greater ones, doesn’t that destroy the whole idea that are lesser ones and greater ones? The word for “careful” is zahir, which can also mean “watchful” or “attentive.” Understood this way, it is not saying that it is just as important to observe the lesser mitzvot as the greater ones; it’s saying that no matter what mitzvah you are doing, you should be just as zahir – you should be just as attentive, just as present. And furthermore, it is our awareness of the very fact that not all mitzvot are equal that reminds us: even though the mitzvot are not all equal, we can bring equal presence to them all. And, as different as the various mitzvot are, even more varied are our moments in life; you cannot compare a moment of childbirth or a moment of death to a moment of putting toothpaste on your toothbrush. And yet, the message is: hevei zahir – be present in all moments, great and small. And, use your awareness of the great and small to remind you: the moment to be zahir is always this moment. לֹֽא־תַכִּ֨ירוּ פָנִ֜ים בַּמִּשְׁפָּ֗ט כַּקָּטֹ֤ן כַּגָּדֹל֙ תִּשְׁמָע֔וּן Don’t show favoritism in judgment; like the lesser as the greater, you shall listen. -Deuteronomy 1:17 In this verse from the Parshat Devarim, Moses is telling the Israelites how the judges should behave: they shouldn’t show favoritism, but they should judge fairly, not giving preference to either the poor and powerless or to the great and powerful. But on a metaphorical level, kakaton kagadol – regardless of whether the moment is mundane and insignificant or crucially important, tishma’un – listen! Be fully present. Why? Because in being fully present, you are being what you truly are, beneath and beyond the small, partial self that is constructed of thoughts and feelings, the self that judges lesser and greater, the self that prefers this over that. At the core of your being and beyond the border of all that you perceive, you are presence, vast and unconditionally free. And even more, that presence is truly the One Presence, the One Reality present in all things, awake right now through your own senses, ever creating and perceiving Itself, That from which all arises to Which all will return. When Rabbi Yitzhak Mer of Ger was a boy, someone said to him: “My boy, I will give you a gulden if you can tell me where God lives.” The boy replied, “I will give you two gulden if you can tell me where He doesn’t!” The Waiting Room– Parshat Devarim 7/18/2018 0 Comments A friend once asked me, "I don't understand this stuff about being present. What if the present sucks?" There's a dimension of our experience that is beyond the particular experience we're having– beyond our feelings, thoughts and sensations. That's our consciousness that's aware of the feelings, thoughts and sensations. That consciousness is similar to the empty physical space that allows us to exist physically. We're often not aware of the physical space, but without it, we couldn't be here. Similarly, without the space of awareness, there can be no experience. Being present doesn't just mean to be aware of what's going on in our experience, but more importantly, it means to be aware of the space within which it's happening. As you become aware of the space of awareness, you come to know yourself as this space, rather than as the content of the space– your particular thoughts and feelings. And as you come to know yourself as this space more and more deeply, your thoughts and feelings and sensations begin to resonate with the space, and that creates a feeling-sense of freedom, bliss and joy. But this all requires some trust in the process, because sometimes the experience of the present can be horrible, and you'll want to resist, to run away and hide or fight tooth and nail. But if you treat the present moment as an opportunity to be Presence, then every experience becomes a steppingstone to greater freedom and joy. This is reflected in Pirkei Avot, 4:21: "Rabbi Yaakov says, 'This world is like a waiting room before the World to Come. You should work on yourself in the waiting room, so that you can enter the banquet hall.'" The common understanding of the "World to Come" is that of the afterlife. But the hint here is that there's an eternal dimension of experience that's available now, though you may not yet be aware of it. If you're not yet aware of it, you have to "work on yourself in the waiting room"– meaning, treat your temporal experience as an opportunity to practice being present, and you will come to enter the "banquet hall"– that eternal dimension of experience that is the space of your own awareness. In this week's Torah reading, Parshat Devarim, Moses begins recounting the journey of the Israelites. Much of the actual story is simply skipped over, but then Moses emphasizes the incident with the spies: The spies go to investigate the land. They bring back the report that the land is great, but their are "giants" in the land and they should turn back. Hashem says that because of their cowardice, they will never enter the land, and only their children will enter. Then the Israelites say, "No no! We were just kidding!" They run up the mountain to do battle with the "giants" and are slaughtered. Talk about being out of sync! But what a wonderful metaphor for such a common disfunction– the disfunction of not being in alignment with the reality of the moment. One moment calls us to fight, the next calls us to retreat, If we're not in alignment, if we're spending energy wishing that things are other than they are and responding to how we think things should be rather than how they are, we get in trouble. But if we know ourselves as the space within which our experience is arising, we can easily align with the needs of the moment and act appropriately, fearlessly going to battle when we must, and surrendering when we must, rather than the other way around. There's a story of Rabbi Yitzhak Eisik, who had a condition that caused him extreme pain his whole life. His doctor asked, "How can you take all that pain without grumbling or complaining at all? "You would understand if you knew how I see pain," replied the rebbe. "I regard pain as a scrubbing of the soul, like putting a coin in a strong cleaning solution." "But how can you take that level of pain for so long? You've had it nearly all your life!" "It's not a question of how long. Whatever pain I've had in the past is over; it doesn't hurt anymore. Whatever pain is to come is in the future doesn't yet exist, and so I don't have to bother with that. I only need to be aware of the pain that's happening right now, and that's totally doable!" As we approach Tisha B'Av, the holiday of pain and destruction, may we be cleansed by whatever pain arises, making way for something beautiful and new to emerge from the depths of our souls, healing ourselves and the world... The Great River- Parshat Devarim 8/10/2016 6 Comments Have you ever had the experience of finding yourself in conflict with someone, and then realizing that the same conflict has happened a thousand times before, in different forms? It is as if the conflict is a virus, a replicating pattern. It has no real life of its own; it is just a dead, repetitive, automatic story that lives off your life energy, playing itself out again and again. Once there was a scorpion who was looking for a way to get to the other side of a river. As he searched up and down the banks, he came upon a fox who was about to swim across. “Please let me swim on your back!” implored the scorpion. “No way!” replied the fox, “You’ll sting me!” “Why would I do that?” argued the scorpion, “If I stung you, we would both drown.” After thinking about it, the fox agreed. The scorpion climbed up on his back, and the fox began to swim across. But, when they were about half way across the river, the scorpion stung the fox. As the poison began its work, the fox started to sink. “Why did you do it?” said the fox, “Now we’ll both drown!” “I couldn’t help myself,” said the scorpion, “It’s in my nature.” Is it in your nature to always react in the same old ways, perpetuating the same old conflicts? Or is there a way out? Of course there is a way out, but it can be difficult because the old patterns are usually motivated by the desire to escape pain, and it’s totally natural to want to escape pain. Something happens, someone does something, and it triggers a painful emotional response. You naturally want to avoid this pain, so you lash out unconsciously or passive aggressively or whatever, in an attempt to vent the pain and punish the one who caused it. But, it doesn’t work, because it just perpetuates a dynamic that guarantees the cycle will continue… that is, until you wake up. To wake up means to see the pattern, and to stop feeding it. This usually means feeling the triggered pain on purpose, without doing anything about it... just being with it. You might think that a lot of meditation can help you “just be with it,” but sometimes the opposite is true. Meditation can give you beautiful and blissful experiences. If you get attached to those experiences, then the pain that life brings can sometimes be even harder to endure. I often hear people lament about having to come down from the lofty mountain of the spirit to deal with the pain of life. It reminds me of a passage I read in one of Ram Dass’ books, where he talks about coming down from a spiritual high and literally “seeing” a tidal wave coming toward him- a tidal wave made out of all the broken relationships, tedious responsibilities, unconscious expectations- the whole mess. It’s natural to resist the pain of that tidal wave! And yet, what are you resisting? What are you holding on to? There is nothing but the Divine, unfolding in ever-new ways through time. If you cling to the spiritual experience of a moment ago, you lose its most important message: God is speaking in and as everything. The unfolding of life in time is God’s Speech. Open to it, as it is. This week’s reading- Devarim, the beginning of the Book of Deuteronomy- gives some beautiful hints of this truth. “Devarim” means “Words”- the words spoken by Moses to the Israelites. They too stand by a river, preparing to cross, and Moses tells them the story of their journeys. He begins by recounting the highest moment, when they stood at Mt. Sinai and heard God speak to them. But does he tell them about all the Torah they learned there? No! He tells them only one piece of Torah- “Rav lakhem shevet bahar hazeh! “It’s too much already for you to still be dwelling by this mountain! Turn and journey for yourselves!” In other words, don't be the scorpion! Life is change. The world is turning; you must turn with it. The journey is “for yourselves”- it is for your own happiness and fulfillment that you have to not cling to your idea of happiness and fulfillment! Then it says, “Uvo’u har ha’emori- and come to the mountain of the Amorites…” On the surface, this is talking about a tribe called “Amorites” that live on a mountain in the Promised Land. But the word for “Amorites” has the same letters as the verb “to speak”- aleph-mem-reish. The hint here is that you must leave the “mountain” where you hear God’s “speech” so that you can come to a new mountain, where there will be new “speech.” Don’t cling to the old speech; it’s dead. Then it goes on to say, “… on the mountain, in the plain, in the lowland, in the desert, and on the seacoast…” The point is not only the next “mountain” experience you will come to. There is also the “plain- aravah”- the ordinary, daily work of life, a mixture (erev) of many different kinds of experiences. Then there is the “lowland- sh’felah”- times of sadness, of tragedy, of failure- all part of God’s speech! These times are medicine for the distortions of ego. Then there is the “desert,” or the “south- negev”- times when your life and work don’t seem to be yielding anything good, but you must persevere through these stretches! These times train us to stay focused and true to our goals. Then there is the “seacoast- hof hayam”- like when the children of Israel stood at the Sea of Reeds, with the Egyptian army behind them. These are times when the outcome is unknown, when we are tempted to fear and despair. This is training for the supreme quality of Trust, to take the leap into the unknown. (Of course, all outcomes are always unknown, but only sometimes does this become obvious!) Finally, it says you will come all the way to “Hanahar Hagadol- the Great River!” The Great River is at the end of the journey, because if you can learn to work with life in all of its manifestations, you will see that life is the Great River. God incarnates in the form of your mind and your body, for just a brief time, to take a little journey on the Great River. This moment is the arena within which we are learning to journey. The Baal Shem Tov taught: “In the Amidah prayer, we say: ‘God of Abraham, God of Isaac, and God of Jacob,’ and not: “God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob,’ because Isaac and Jacob connected to the unique form of God’s speech as they heard it; they didn’t rely on what Abraham heard.” As we enter Shabbat Devarim, the Sabbath of Words, may our words be ever fresh and alive, free from old and dead patterns. May we hear the Living Words that are spoken anew, flowing as the Great River, always in this moment. |
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