Tanya, Part I; Likkutei Amarim 1:13

Hook

We gather today, perhaps drawn by the quiet hum of remembrance, the echo of a particular season, or simply the gentle pull of a memory that seeks our attention. It might be an anniversary, a birthday, or an ordinary day that suddenly feels imbued with a special significance. Whatever the occasion, we arrive with open hearts, ready to engage with the enduring presence of those we have loved and lost. The path before us is one of Memory and Meaning, a space where the past does not recede, but rather transforms, offering wisdom and connection. This is a moment for gentle contemplation, for acknowledging the threads that bind us across time.

Context

This contemplation draws from a profound passage in Tanya, Part I, Likkutei Amarim 1:13, which delves into the complex nature of human character and spiritual striving. It grapples with seemingly contradictory teachings about self-perception – one urging us to see ourselves as if wicked, another cautioning against self-condemnation. The text explores the nuanced classifications of the righteous and the intermediate, hinting at an inner landscape far more intricate than simple deeds. It speaks of "two souls" within each person, one rooted in the physical and the other in the spiritual, a concept that offers a powerful lens through which to understand our internal battles and aspirations. This passage invites us to move beyond superficial judgments and to explore the deeper currents of our being.

Text Snapshot

"It has been taught: An oath is administered to him [before birth, warning him]: 'Be righteous and be not wicked; and even if the whole world tells you that you are righteous, in your own eyes regard yourself as if you were wicked.' This requires to be understood, for it contradicts the Mishnaic dictum: 'And be not wicked in your own estimation.' Furthermore, if a man considers himself to be wicked he will be grieved at heart and depressed, and he will not be able to serve G–d joyfully...

We find in the Gemara five distinct types—a righteous man who prospers, a righteous man who suffers, a wicked man who prospers, a wicked man who suffers, and a benoni (an intermediate person). It is there explained that the “righteous man who prospers” is the perfect tzaddik; the “righteous man who suffers” is the imperfect tzaddik.

...it is thus plain that such a person is called wicked, more than he who violates a prohibition of the Rabbis. If this is so, we must conclude that the benoni is not guilty even of the sin of neglecting to study the Torah. Hence Rabbah could have mistaken himself for a benoni."

Kavvanah

Embracing the Dichotomy Within

As we hold these words, let us cultivate a kavvanah – an intention – of embracing the profound paradoxes within ourselves and within the tapestry of life. Our practice today is not to resolve these contradictions, but to learn to dwell within them with grace and understanding. We are invited to hold the tension between the injunction to strive relentlessly for righteousness and the wisdom of humility, even self-effacing humility. We can acknowledge the internal "oath" whispered before our earthly journey, a call to integrity and authentic being, while also recognizing the Mishnaic counsel to guard against the corrosive effects of self-recrimination.

The Dance of Souls

Let our intention also be to explore the concept of the two souls, the one arising from the physical realm with its inherent drives and desires, and the other from a spiritual source, carrying within it the potential for goodness. This is not a battle to be won by annihilation, but a dynamic interplay, a constant dance. The wisdom here is not to deny the impulses from the physical soul, but to understand their origin and to learn to guide them with intention. For those we remember, this understanding can illuminate their own struggles and triumphs, their moments of profound connection and their human frailties. It allows us to see them not as static ideals, but as complex beings navigating the intricate landscape of their own inner worlds.

A Spacious Approach to Being

Our kavvanah is to cultivate a spaciousness within our hearts and minds, a capacity to hold differing perspectives, both about ourselves and about those we commemorate. Grief, too, is a space of paradox – it is a testament to the depth of our love, yet it carries the ache of absence. It can feel both overwhelming and strangely grounding. In this practice, we offer ourselves permission to be imperfect, to be in process, to be human. We recognize that the journey of spiritual growth is not a linear ascent but a continuous unfolding, marked by moments of clarity and moments of confusion. This spaciousness allows us to receive the wisdom of the Tanya passage not as a judgment, but as an invitation to deeper self-awareness and compassionate understanding of the human condition.

Practice

The Practice of Witnessing and Naming

This practice invites us to engage with the wisdom of the Tanya by bringing it into tangible, personal connection. We will engage in a micro-practice centered around witnessing, naming, and offering a small act of kindness. This is not about achieving a perfect state, but about engaging with the process, much like the benoni navigates their journey.

Option 1: The Candle of Intention

• Materials: A candle (any size or color), a safe place to light it, a match or lighter.
• The Practice:
  1. Find your space: Choose a quiet spot where you can be undisturbed for a few minutes. Dim the lights if possible.
  2. Light the candle: As you strike the match and bring the flame to the wick, hold the intention of illuminating a specific aspect of the memory or person you are honoring. This could be their strength, their kindness, a particular challenge they faced, or a lesson they imparted.
  3. Connect with the text: As the flame steadies, recall the idea of the "two souls" or the concept of the benoni. Consider how this person navigated their own inner world. Were there moments when their physical impulses and their spiritual aspirations seemed to be in tension? Did they embody a particular kind of striving or acceptance?
  4. Name the quality: Silently or aloud, name a specific quality or characteristic of the person you are remembering that resonates with the themes of the Tanya passage. Perhaps it was their resilience in the face of hardship (the "righteous man who suffers"), their capacity for joy even amidst challenges, or their quiet determination to do good. You might say, "I remember [Name]'s [quality]."
  5. Offer a micro-act of kindness: The Tanya speaks of the inherent goodness within each person, even within the "physical soul" derived from kelipat nogah. This goodness can manifest as acts of mercy and benevolence. For the next hour, commit to performing one small, intentional act of kindness, inspired by the person you are remembering. This could be as simple as offering a genuine compliment, holding a door for someone, sending a supportive text message, or taking a moment to listen deeply to another. The act itself doesn't need to be grand; the intention and the connection to the memory are what matter.
  6. Observe the flame: As the candle burns, observe its light. It is a source of warmth and visibility, much like the goodness we strive to cultivate. Allow the flame to be a visual reminder of the enduring light of memory and the potential for kindness that resides within us all.

Option 2: The Story's Echo

• Materials: A journal or notebook, a pen.
• The Practice:
  1. Open the text: Briefly reread the excerpt from Tanya, particularly the discussion of the benoni and the "two souls."
  2. Recall a moment: Think of a specific, relatively brief memory involving the person you are remembering. It doesn't need to be a monumental event. It could be a conversation, a shared experience, a moment of observation.
  3. Identify the inner landscape: Consider the person's inner state during that memory. Were they grappling with something? Were they experiencing a moment of pure joy? Did they express a particular drive or desire? Was there a visible effort in their actions? You are not diagnosing them, but gently observing the human complexity that the Tanya passage describes.
  4. Write the "benoni" narrative: In your journal, write a short narrative (3-5 sentences) of this memory, framing it through the lens of the benoni. You might describe a moment where they seemed to be navigating internal desires or striving towards a goal, even if it was a subtle effort. For example: "I remember when [Name] was trying to learn [skill]. They would often express frustration, but then I'd see them quietly pick up the book again, their brow furrowed in concentration. It felt like a quiet wrestling with their own desire for mastery."
  5. Connect to the "two souls": Below your narrative, write a single sentence reflecting on how this memory might illustrate the interplay of the physical and spiritual aspects of their being. For instance: "This moment showed me the drive within them, the push to achieve something, perhaps fueled by a desire for self-improvement, a spark from their higher soul."
  6. Tzedakah of Gratitude: As a form of tzedakah (righteousness/charity), dedicate a moment of genuine gratitude for the lessons or moments this person shared with you, even the challenging ones. This gratitude is a form of giving back, acknowledging the impact they had.

Option 3: The Seed of Tzedakah

• Materials: A small coin or a digital donation method.
• The Practice:
  1. Reflect on the concept: Consider the Tanya's description of the benoni and the inherent goodness within kelipat nogah. This suggests that even within our physical existence, there is a capacity for good, a connection to the "tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil."
  2. Identify a value: Think of a core value or principle that the person you are remembering embodied, or that you wish to honor in their memory. This could be compassion, integrity, perseverance, creativity, or a commitment to justice.
  3. Choose a cause: Select a cause or organization that aligns with this value. This might be a charity supporting those in need, an educational initiative, an environmental group, or an arts organization.
  4. The act of giving: Hold the coin in your hand, or open your donation page. As you contemplate the person you are remembering and the chosen cause, understand that this act of tzedakah is a tangible expression of the goodness that exists within the world, and a way to honor the legacy of the departed.
  5. Connect to the text: Think of the "two souls" and how our actions can be guided by the higher soul. This act of giving is a way of actively directing our physical resources towards spiritual and ethical ends. It is a conscious choice to embody the good.
  6. Offer a blessing: As you complete the donation, offer a silent blessing for the person you remember, and for the positive impact this act of tzedakah may have in the world. You might say, "In memory of [Name], may this act of kindness contribute to [the cause's aim]."

Community

Sharing the Echoes of Memory

The wisdom of the Tanya, with its exploration of inner complexity and the interconnectedness of souls, offers a beautiful invitation to share our experiences and support one another. Grief is a journey best walked with companions, and remembrance can be amplified when shared.

Option 1: A Circle of Stories (In Person or Virtual)

• The Practice:
  • Gathering: If you are with others who are also remembering someone, or if you are part of a virtual gathering, invite participants to share a brief story or a single word that captures an aspect of the person they are remembering.
  • The Prompt: Frame the sharing with the intention of witnessing the diverse expressions of human experience. You might say: "Today, as we honor our memories, let's offer a glimpse into the rich tapestry of the lives we remember. There's no right or wrong way to be in this space. Perhaps you could share a brief memory, a quality you admired, or even a single word that comes to mind when you think of [Name]."
  • Connecting to the Tanya: As people share, notice how their stories might touch upon the themes of inner striving, moments of both joy and challenge, or the unique blend of qualities within each individual. You can gently weave in the idea that each person held their own complex inner world, much as the Tanya describes.
  • Active Listening: Encourage deep listening and empathy. The power of community lies in bearing witness to each other's experiences without judgment.

Option 2: A Shared Journal of Light

• The Practice:
  • Creating the Space: If you are part of a group, or even if you are seeking to connect with a wider community, consider creating a shared online document (e.g., a Google Doc, a private forum) or a physical communal journal.
  • The Invitation: Invite others to contribute a short reflection, a poem, a drawing, or a single line that speaks to their memory of a loved one.
  • The Prompt: You might offer a prompt like: "In this space, we gather the threads of memory and meaning. Please share a moment, a feeling, or a quality that shines brightly from the lives of those we hold dear. Think of it as adding a small light to a collective constellation."
  • Connecting to the Tanya: Encourage contributions that might touch upon the resilience, the kindness, or the unique spirit of the individuals remembered. The collective sharing can highlight how each person, in their own way, navigated their inner life and left an imprint on the world.
  • The Power of Collective Witnessing: The accumulation of these shared contributions creates a powerful testament to the enduring impact of love and remembrance. It reminds us that while our individual journeys may feel solitary at times, we are part of a larger human experience, connected by the universal threads of love and loss.

Takeaway

The journey through memory and meaning, guided by the wisdom of the Tanya, teaches us that our lives are woven with intricate threads of striving and acceptance, of physical impulse and spiritual aspiration. We are reminded that the path of righteousness is not a destination, but a continuous unfolding, marked by the complex dance of our inner selves. The concept of the benoni, the intermediate, offers a profound sense of permission to inhabit our imperfect humanity, to embrace the process of growth without the burden of unattainable perfection.

As we engage with these ideas, we discover a deeper capacity for self-compassion and for extending that same compassion to those we remember. Their lives, like our own, were likely a blend of triumphs and challenges, of clear intentions and moments of confusion. By understanding the profound complexity of the human soul, we can honor the entirety of their being – their strengths, their struggles, and the enduring light they brought into the world. This practice invites us to see that even in the space of grief, there is room for understanding, for connection, and for the quiet, hopeful continuation of meaning. The echo of their lives, understood through this lens of inner truth, can continue to guide and inspire us.