For my father.
Somehow -- and no-how -- that is to say, by reasons unintelligible to me -- the world had become dark to my eyes. Saying to myself that all things -- including the empty depression -- are given and purposed by Hashem was easy enough, but the rehearsal of this maxim gave me no noticed joy or hope.
So, I prayed that Hashem would bring me into different circumstances -- preferably into simchah. But, thinking that all things are given and purposed by Hashem, I balked at my prayer: if Hashem brought me into this low place for some purpose, why am I praying to get out? But then, perhaps I was brought into the low place in order that I should pray to get out…
To learn how to direct my prayers, I began to pray for knowledge about why I was given to those circumstances. But what constitutes a satisfying answer to the question 'Hashem, why are You doing this to me?'? To any given answer, I may ask 'Why do You want that?' - the same question.
A hypothetical conversation with The Creator:
'Hashem, why are you doing this to me?!'
'To help you grow into a more ________ person.'
'Why do You want that?'
'To bring you and I and all the world together into a more intimate relationship.'
'Why do You want relationship?'
'Because Reality is a reality with divisions between beings. Relationship is the way Reality is made whole.'
'But why did You create it with divisions? Why did You want that?'
…
Over and again, until at last Hashem would answer me something like 'I decided -- all things being equal -- for this way' or 'Just so' or 'Because I'm God'… It might be cool to hear a Bat Qol, but none of these answers (qua answers) are remotely satisfying to me.
But maybe that's the wrong tree to go barking at. What does my satisfaction matter anyway?
That's where I trailed off a few weeks ago, plodding in circles through those ideas familiar as my own furrowed footprints in the black forest. (Alas, the metaphors…) As Purim grew closer, my frustration was compounded by the cheery barrage of slogans for the joyful month -- 'Be Happy, it's Adar!', 'In Adar we're supposed to increase our simchah', ... My heaviness grew, and I sunk further into my downward spiral.
Pressing time -- pulling in the ides of shadowing Adar -- to just please Hashem get along, I began launching pre-emptive strikes against Purim. Which is to say, I ran off into the forests, crashed down on the rocks, and drank my tongue fluid enough to vomit the anger against Hashem festering in my guts. Screams, cries, yelps, vulgarities, and even staid philosophical discourse. Perhaps the "hitbodedut" prepared me for the holyday.
Purim gave me some hint into the infinite. That might be a surprise to those of you zocheh to watch me in my drunkenness, rolling in roads, falling down hills, screaming Minchah, smashing chairs, and collapsing into sleep. All of which I've been entertained to hear recalled by my chevrei because none of which do I remember. Okay, Purim didn't so much gift me a whiff of the infinite as it beat me over the head with infinity's shoe.
Ah, the connection of the world of division and finitude with the transcendent, awful, eternal, interminable, big-beyond-big, we're-all-one-, Infinite One… How did that happen?
From the top:
Darkened, I prayed Hashem would bring me into lightness. But since all things are given and purposed by Hashem, I was in darkness with good reason, so praying for dawn would just be avoiding the work of the night. But maybe I was brought into the dark so that I'd pray for light. So, I prayed Hashem would teach me why I was in the dark. But what would sate that longing? The longing overextends the linguistic possibilities of tshuvoth-answers. Can one see fast enough to catch the light showing the edge of the universe? I can't. Camera I shot the monitor showing the image shot. Monitor I showed Monitor II showed Monitor III showed Monitor IV, and I'VE had enough windowlessormore monads for I night… Feedback. But unlike audio feedback, each of the camera's answers to each moment of its shooting questions is smaller than its predecessor. The questioning longing runs itself again and over itself again -- I could pray to know why, but then I'd pray to know why that way, and then I'd pray to know why that reason for that way, and then I'd pray to known why that explanation for that reason for that way. And eventually -- I get the feeling -- it would feel, Hashem was just making excuses. But -- a
Ha -- turn; the infinite over-running recursive rerun cuts in at least both directions: Each digging 'why?' I shout stamping my feet on the group has a flip-side, an echoing off, a rebounding. What's down reflects what's up.
From the top: Down (Down being somehow a bad state to be in), I prayed to be raised. But maybe I was brought down to pray for raising. So, I prayed to know why low to know whether I should pray to be high. But maybe I was lowered to pray to know why. So, I prayed to know why I would be brought down to cry out from the depths Hashem why must I want for why I'm low? But what good is the leveling, the demolishing of ignoring, the breaking out destruction that trashes each wall of unaccountedness trying then to account for that? What would stand an answer to that prayer to hear why, then a prayer to hear why that why, and then a prayer begging to hear why that why of why. Why oh why, Hashem this world of division and finitude that gives me over to this infinitity of my begging for your harkening and my hearing for your beckoning. A - B -
SO - LUT - E-I - ON in the realization that the next step each time thrust me into prayer into teshuvah into turning toward Hashem, that the whole thing springing and sputtering forth from my longing for union with The Infinite One was transcending and fulfilling that longing. Oh G-d, why didn't it feel that way until Purim? Why did you want it just so?
And here we go again… Amen. I do remember from Purim sitting at my makom (Hebrew, 'place'; Yeshivish, 'study-place, desk') for the Minchah tefilah head down slamming my fist into the desk yelling over and over again Amen Amen Amen. But I wonder now, why would I be sitting during tefilah, and how could I have been at my desk when my desk was outside? Amen -- the shouted out and up reveal-a-jew-be-la-la-lation of my Purim -- strikes down into my depths and wicked sonar-style shows me where to do tiqun. "Amen" (Aleph-Mem-Nun) rolls off the tongue together with "Emunah" (Aleph-Mem-Nun-Hey, 'faith' or 'trust'). When the worldly affirmation Amen is unified with the letter Hey, when Emunah-trust is established, the speaker unifies with Hashem and in so doing transcends. Which is to say overly overwrightingly, I learned I need to trust Hashem and trust myself and trust the world. Amen.
Hashem, may all our yearnings reach up and up and up over on top themselves. And may this Shabbat, in which we call out from the Torah that Shabbat is the root-goal-ikar-essence of Life and Time and that Shabbat is a sign between Creator and Am Yisrael of its own being the root, rest us in our