From worship and study

The idea of catalyst has been with me for a while. It came to mind when I heard a story from the Zohar about a person who was deeply grieving the death of his much adored teacher. He comes to believe that his teacher’s light would not perish in death and starts to fast in order to connect with this source of wisdom. He fasts and he fasts until he sees a vision and is told what a person has to do in order to ascend to the highest sphere of spiritual awareness. The grief was a catalyst or channel for the realization. The realization was a catalyst for the fast which was a catalyst for the vision. Every choice we make has potential to be a channel. The question is whether we make choices to encourage the catalysts that fosters love. The Kabbalah text states that in order to reach the higher spheres we must work “to turn darkness to light, bitterness to sweetness”. We are told that every day we need to be expectantly waiting for a world of wholeness and peace.

In my experience, prayer is one of the most powerful catalysts for this although not often as I intend. Sometimes things seem hopeless, it seems that it would take a marvelous event manifesting a supernatural act of God to bring a good outcome. Faith can be so hard to keep when things seem to go wrong but miracles do happen all the time. As I thought about what a miracle if it would be if I was able to fulfill what I think is G-d’s purpose for my existence, I realized that up to now my life has actually been full of miracles; three near death experiences, severe poverty, homelessness, gross naiveté (or stupidity). Then I realized that most people (soldiers and civilians) in a war zone have near death experiences. Many people live lives that are miraculous, mine is far from unique.

Even knowing this there are realities to being alive in this material sphere. There is pain and grief, longing and loneness that can be overwhelming even (or especially) at those times when culturally we are supposed to be happy like birthdays and holidays and Thanksgiving. My Ed recently heard a man who was autistic talking about how he runs programs in his life; when he needs a meal he runs his “cooking program” and if he notices he is kind of glum he runs his “happy program”. What a good idea. This season has been sad for me being the first without my mother for important occasions but while I might not be able to make happy I can run my “its all okay” program.

As I thought about my mother my mind turned to other ancestors. I realized I have a great deal for which to be grateful. They were all such special people. I read stories or look at pictures of them and I feel connected. But they are just stories of ordinary human beings living extraordinary (and sometimes contradictory) lives. The are just images. I miss those I knew on this level of existence but know that there is a different sphere where my mother still sparkles. Here I find a peace beyond words and light and sweetness. I touch love and feel completely at home at last.