WALKING INWARD

My dearest Aaron Hershel,

 

I left the door open for you to ask me about how we till the soil of Neshamah to let in the life that is Chayyah and Yechidah, and your insight regarding the idea of spiritual practice was quite interesting. You understand that God’s shlemut, God’s unity, means that God is right here and now: in you, with you, as you. Neshamah is no less of God than Chayyah and Yechidah. The difference is that it pretends to be other than God, and that pretending is so strong that we begin to act as if it were so. In truth, there can be no separation from God. We have spoken of this in the context of Rabbi Luria. He imagined a world where God is other and broken, and our task is to repair God to wholeness. But it is not God who is broken; it is we who are broken. It is not God who is other than us; it is we who insist upon being other than God.

Who does all this insisting? Neshamah, the self that imagines it is all we are. The result of all spiritual practice is to open the Neshamah to the greater reality of God in which it resides. This is what I mean when I speak of Neshamah opening to Chayyah. This is like a wave realizing it is part of the ocean. It discovers its true nature, its true home. And in so doing it becomes more compassionate, more loving.

But how? How are we to open to the greater reality of God in, with, and as all things? Torah provides us with the answer when it tells of God’s call to Avram: Lech lecha! Lech lecha means, literally, walk (lech) into your self (lecha). What self? Not Neshamah, but Chayyah. How? Read the rest of the command: “Lech lecha! Get yourself out of your land, away from your relatives, out of your father’s house to a land that I will show you,” (Genesis 12:1).

To walk into yourself is to see the “land” God wishes us to see. Not a literal land of rock and dirt, but a holy land of milk and honey; a spiritual land that nurtures and enlivens. How do you get there? By freeing yourself from your culture, your tribe, and your parents.

I went to get water from the well last evening, and left the bucket of water outside to stay cool. When I went to drink from the bucket this morning I found a thin layer of ice had formed on the surface of the water. I had to crack the surface ice to drink the water. Now it is true that both the solid ice and the liquid water are the same; they are both water in different forms. Why did I not drink the ice? Because ice does not meet my need for a glass of water. For that I need liquid. So I broke through the one to reach the other. It is the same with spiritual practice.

All is God. Neshamah, the hardened ego, and Chayyah the compassionate soul, are both of God. Neshamah is like ice and Chayyah is like water, and only the latter can slake my spiritual thirst. So I have to crack the ice of Neshamah and drink the water of Chayyah. Spiritual practice is how I crack the ice.

Do not think the ice is bad or that the ice is your enemy. I have said that Neshamah is a necessary part of you; without it you could not run your business or care for a wife and family. But with Neshamah alone you will do these things without the deepest joy and compassion of which you are capable. For that you need Chayyah. And for Chayyah you need spiritual practice.

How does Neshamah become hardened? It is trained to be that way by our parents, our relatives, and our culture. Each of these carries with it assumptions about life, rules about living, and biases about others that harden the self. I don’t know if this can be avoided. I do know it can be overcome. The ice can be cracked, the water can be sipped, and the self can be softened by the greater truth of the soul. The softening of the self is what I call entering the Promised Land.

I worry that you may not truly understand me here. I worry that you imagine I am saying you must violently wrest yourself free from your people and your past. I am not saying that. God said to Avram: lech lecha, walk inward. Walking is God’s command. Don’t run, don’t flee, don’t attack; just walk. Walk gently and purposefully. Walk consciously and continually. Walk inward, not away. And in so doing you will find that place of peace that is the land God wishes each of us to find.

Now I want to talk with you about how to do this walking, but I find myself tiring easily and needing to go to bed earlier than even a few months ago. I trust this will pass, but for now I must rest. I will send this letter as it is. Think about how you have been hardened and what walking inward toward freedom might mean for you. Then write to me, and if you wish to know how I walk inward, ask and I will share this with you.

 

B’Shalom