Tanya Yomi · Memory & Meaning · Deep-Dive

Tanya, Part I; Likkutei Amarim 10:5

Deep-DiveMemory & MeaningJanuary 1, 2026

Hook

We gather today on the threshold of remembrance, a space where echoes of lives lived resonate deeply within us. This particular moment is for those who are navigating the tender landscape of grief, for those who carry the weight of absence, and for those who seek to honor a legacy that continues to shape their world. Perhaps today marks an anniversary, a birthday, or simply a day when the veil between presence and memory feels especially thin. It could be that a specific quality, a familiar scent, a turn of phrase, or a shared experience has drawn you here, a gentle tug on the thread of connection to someone no longer physically with us. Whatever the catalyst, this space is held for you, with all the tenderness and respect that your journey deserves. There is no timeline for grief, no prescribed path, only the unfolding of a love that endures, a connection that transcends the veil of mortality. We acknowledge the vastness of what has been lost, and the enduring strength of what remains. This is a moment to breathe, to be present with the memories that stir within, and to find a quiet strength in the continuity of love and meaning.

Text Snapshot

From Tanya, Part I; Likkutei Amarim 10:5

"Behold, when a person fortifies his divine soul and wages war against his animal soul to such an extent that he expels and eradicates its evil from the left part—as is written, 'And you shall root out the evil from within you'—yet the evil is not actually converted to goodness, he is called 'incompletely righteous' or 'a righteous man who suffers.' That is to say, there still lingers in him a fragment of wickedness in the left part, except that it is subjugated and nullified by the good, because of the former’s minuteness. Hence he imagines that he has driven it out and it has quite disappeared. In truth, however, had all the evil in him entirely departed and disappeared, it would have been converted into actual goodness. The explanation of the matter is that 'a completely righteous man,' in whom the evil has been converted to goodness and who is consequently called 'a righteous man who prospers,' has completely divested himself of the filthy garments of evil. That is to say, he utterly despises the pleasures of this world, finding no enjoyment in human pleasures of merely gratifying the physical appetites instead of [seeking] the service of G–d, inasmuch as they are derived from and originate in the kelipah and sitra achara, for whatever is of the sitra achara is hated by the perfectly righteous man with an absolute hatred, by reason of his great love of G–d and of His holiness with profuse affection and delight and superlative devotion, as is stated above. For they are antithetical one to the other. Thus it is written, 'I hate them with the utmost hatred; I regard them as my own enemies. Search me, [L–rd,] and know my heart….' Hence, according to the abundance of the love toward G–d, so is the extent of the hatred toward the sitra achara and the utter contempt of evil, for contempt is as much the opposite of real love as is hatred. The 'incompletely righteous' is he who does not hate the sitra achara with an absolute hatred; therefore he does not also absolutely abhor evil. And as long as the hatred and scorn of evil are not absolute, there must remain some vestige of love and pleasure in it, and the fouled garments have not entirely and absolutely been shed; therefore the evil has not actually been converted to goodness, since it still has some hold in the filthy garments, except that it is nullified because of its minute quantity and is accounted as nothing. Therefore such a person is called a righteous man, in whom the evil is subjugated and surrendered to him. Accordingly, his love of G–d is also not perfect, with the result that he is called 'incompletely righteous.' Now, this grade is subdivided into myriads of degrees in respect of the quality of the minute evil remaining [in him] from any of the four evil elements, as well as in relation to its proportionate abnegation by reason of its minuteness, such as, by way of example, one in sixty, or in a thousand, or in ten thousand, and the like. Such are the gradations of the numerous righteous men who are to be found in every generation, as mentioned in the Gemara, viz., 'Eighteen thousand righteous men stand before the Holy One, blessed is He.' However, it is with regard to the superior quality of the 'completely righteous' that Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai said, 'I have seen superior men ( benei aliyah), and their numbers are few….' The reason for their title of 'superior men' is that they convert evil and make it ascend to holiness, as is written in the Zohar in the Introduction, that when Rabbi Chiya wished to ascend to the hechal (heavenly shrine) of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, he heard a voice come out and say, 'Which of you, before coming here, has converted darkness into light and bitter taste into sweetness? [Otherwise] do not approach here,' and so forth. A further explanation of the title 'superior men' is that their service in the category of 'do good,' in the fulfillment of the Torah and its commandments, is for the sake of the Above, the ultimate of the highest degrees, and not merely in order to attach themselves to G–d so as to quench the thirst of their [own] soul, which thirsts for G–d, as is written, 'Ho! All who thirst, go to water,' as is explained elsewhere. Rather [their service is,] as explained in Tikkunei Zohar, 'Who is kind?—He who conducts himself with benevolence toward his Creator—toward His nest, uniting the Holy One, blessed is He, and His Shechinah within those who dwell in the nethermost worlds.' As also explained in Raaya Mehemna on Parashat Teitzei, 'In the manner of a son who ingratiates himself with his father and mother, whom he loves more than his own body and soul…and is prepared to sacrifice his own life for them, to redeem them…,' and as is explained elsewhere. [And both interpretations are complementary, for through acts of refinement of the good out of the nogah, one elevates the “feminine waters,” causing “supernal unions” to bring down the “masculine waters” which are the flow of [Divine] kindness contained in each of the 248 positive precepts, all of which are in the nature of kindness and “masculine waters,” that is to say, the flow of holiness of His G–dliness, blessed be He, from above downward, to be clothed in those who live in the lower worlds, as explained elsewhere.]"

Kavvanah

Cultivating Inner Resonance

As we hold this passage from Tanya, we are invited into a profound exploration of the human soul and its intricate relationship with both inner struggle and divine connection. The text speaks of the "divine soul" and the "animal soul," of waging war, of eradicating evil, and of the subtle distinctions between being "incompletely righteous" and "completely righteous." For those of us who are navigating grief, these concepts can resonate in unexpected ways. The loss of a loved one can often feel like a profound internal battle, a shaking of our very foundations, and a re-evaluation of our own inner landscape. This text offers a framework not to judge our internal state, but to understand the deep currents of our being, and to approach our own experiences with a gentler, more insightful gaze.

Holding the Paradox of Struggle and Transformation

The core of this passage lies in the nuanced understanding of spiritual progress. It differentiates between eradicating evil and converting it into goodness. This distinction is crucial, especially when we consider the profound emotional shifts that grief can bring. Sometimes, the pain of loss can feel like an overwhelming force, a darkness that we wrestle with. We might feel as though we have pushed back against this darkness, that we are no longer consumed by the sharpest edges of sorrow. Yet, the text reminds us that this subjugation, this holding at bay, is not the same as true transformation. The "incompletely righteous" person has managed to control the negative forces within, but they still linger, like shadows at the periphery of our vision. This can be a painful realization, a reminder that the work of inner reconciliation is ongoing.

When we grieve, we are often forced to confront the "filthy garments of evil" – not necessarily in ourselves, but in the stark realities of life's impermanence, of suffering, and of the raw vulnerability that loss exposes. The text speaks of despising the pleasures of this world when they distract from the service of G–d, and this might feel alien when our world has shrunk to the immediate and the intensely personal. However, we can reframe this: perhaps the "pleasures of this world" that we are invited to despise are those that numb us to our grief, that pull us away from the deep work of processing and integrating our loss. Perhaps the "service of G–d" in this context is the sacred work of remembrance, of honoring the legacy of those we have lost, and of tending to the sacred spaces within ourselves that their memory inhabits.

The Ascent of the Soul

The concept of the "completely righteous" man, who converts evil into goodness, who "makes it ascend to holiness," offers a beacon of hope without denying the reality of struggle. It speaks to a profound alchemy of the soul, a process of taking what is difficult, what is dark, and transforming it into something holy, something that uplifts and sustains. This is not about pretending that the pain doesn't exist, or that the loss hasn't occurred. Instead, it's about finding the capacity within ourselves, however small, to imbue our experience with meaning, to find the lessons, the love, and the enduring connection that can emerge from the crucible of sorrow.

When we speak of "converting darkness into light and bitter taste into sweetness," we are speaking to the very heart of what it means to integrate loss. It is a slow, often arduous process, but it is a process of growth. It is about finding moments where the sharp edges of pain soften, where memories that once brought tears now bring a gentle smile, where the profound love we held for our departed loved one becomes a source of strength and inspiration, rather than just a source of ache. This is the "ascent" the Tanya describes – the elevation of our experience, the finding of holiness even in the midst of profound human suffering. It is about understanding that the love that was shared continues to exist, and that by honoring it, by allowing it to shape us, we are participating in its ongoing divine purpose.

Embracing the Nuance of Our Inner World

The text's acknowledgement of the "incompletely righteous" man, who has a "minute evil remaining" that is "subjugated and nullified by the good," speaks directly to the reality of our human journey. It assures us that perfection is not the prerequisite for spiritual progress, nor is it the absence of struggle. In grief, we may feel far from "completely righteous." We might still find ourselves grappling with anger, with despair, with moments of profound disorientation. Yet, if we can recognize that the love and the good within us are stronger than these transient emotions, if they are able to "subjugate and nullify" these darker feelings, then we are, in a sense, engaged in the very work the Tanya describes.

The "myriads of degrees" of righteous men, and the idea that even a "minute evil remaining" is accounted as nothing, offers immense comfort. It means that our journey is uniquely ours, with its own pace and its own subtle victories. It acknowledges that even when we feel imperfect, even when we stumble, our efforts to live with integrity, to love, and to remember are seen and valued. It allows for the messy, imperfect nature of our inner lives, especially during times of deep emotional upheaval. It reminds us that the goal is not an unattainable state of being, but a continuous process of striving, of refinement, of seeking the light within and around us.

A Personal Invocation

As we sit with this teaching, let us bring to mind the person we are remembering. Let us consider the ways in which their presence, and now their absence, has shaped our inner landscape.

  • For the struggle: If you find yourself wrestling with difficult emotions, with the raw edges of grief, acknowledge this struggle. Recognize it not as a sign of failure, but as a testament to the depth of your love and the intensity of your experience. The Tanya speaks of waging war against the "animal soul." In grief, we might feel as though we are waging war against sorrow itself, against the overwhelming force of absence. This is a sacred battle, and your strength in navigating it is profound.

  • For the transformation: Where have you seen the "evil" – the pain, the sorrow, the anger – begin to soften? Where has it been "converted into goodness"? Perhaps it's in the quiet moments of remembering, in the gratitude for the time shared, in the inspiration you draw from their life. Allow these glimmers of light to grow. They are not a denial of the darkness, but a testament to the enduring power of love and spirit.

  • For the legacy: The Tanya speaks of "superior men" who "convert evil and make it ascend to holiness." Consider how the life of the person you remember has, in its own way, brought light into the world. How has their legacy become a source of holiness for you? How can you, in your own life, continue to transform the sorrow of their absence into a force for good, for remembrance, for the continuation of their love?

This passage invites us to hold the paradox of our inner lives: the ongoing struggle, the subtle victories, and the profound potential for transformation. It offers a gentle wisdom that allows for imperfection, for the long arc of healing, and for the enduring beauty of a soul that continues to strive for connection and meaning.

Practice

This section offers a few pathways for engaging with the spirit of this teaching. Choose the practice that feels most resonant for you today, or perhaps blend elements from different options. The intention is to create a sacred moment for remembrance and to connect with the enduring meaning of the person you hold in your heart.

Option 1: The Candle of Lingering Light

This practice focuses on acknowledging the subtle presence that remains, even in absence, and the ongoing transformation of our experience.

  • Preparation: Find a quiet space where you will not be disturbed. You will need a candle – a simple taper, a pillar, or a memorial candle. You might also wish to have a small, smooth stone or a piece of sea glass to hold.

  • The Practice (Approximately 20-25 minutes):

    1. Setting the Space (5 minutes): Light the candle. As the flame flickers to life, visualize it as a symbol of the enduring spirit of the person you are remembering. Imagine the light reaching out, a gentle connection across any perceived distance. Take a few slow, deep breaths, allowing your body to settle into this moment.
    2. Reading and Reflection (10 minutes): Read the provided text snapshot from Tanya aloud, or silently to yourself. As you read, pay attention to the phrases that catch your attention, especially those that speak to the subtle nature of inner work and transformation.
      • Consider the idea of "subjugated and nullified by the good." Where in your grief journey have you noticed this happening? Perhaps the sharpest pangs of pain have softened, or moments of despair are now interspersed with memories of joy.
      • Reflect on the concept of "minute evil remaining." This is not about dwelling on negativity, but about acknowledging the natural ebb and flow of emotions. It is about recognizing that even in the midst of profound healing, challenging feelings may arise, but they do not define the entirety of your experience.
      • Focus on the "conversion of evil to goodness." Where do you see this happening in your own life, or in the legacy of the person you are remembering? Perhaps their challenges taught you resilience, or their kindness continues to inspire acts of compassion in the world.
    3. Holding the Stone/Object (5-10 minutes): If you have a stone or other object, hold it in your hand. Feel its weight, its texture. Imagine it as a vessel for the enduring love and the transformed essence of the person you remember. You might choose to speak to them, or simply hold the memory in your heart. If the text's idea of "converting darkness into light" resonates, hold that intention. You can silently affirm: "May the love we shared continue to transform, to uplift, to illuminate." You can also offer a prayer or a wish for their continued journey, or for your own continued healing.
    4. Closing (2 minutes): As you conclude, take another deep breath. Blow out the candle, or let it burn down safely. Carry the feeling of this moment with you.

Option 2: The Name and the Story

This practice centers on the power of personal narrative and the active engagement with the legacy left behind.

  • Preparation: You will need a journal and a pen, or a device for writing. You might also consider having a photograph of the person you are remembering.

  • The Practice (Approximately 25-30 minutes):

    1. Centering and Presence (5 minutes): Place the photograph, if you have one, in front of you. If not, simply close your eyes and bring the image of the person to mind. Take a few deep breaths, allowing their presence to fill your awareness.
    2. Reading and Inviting Reflection (10 minutes): Read the text snapshot from Tanya. As you read, consider the idea of "rooting out the evil" and the "conversion to goodness."
      • Think about the challenges or difficulties the person you are remembering may have faced in their life. How did they navigate these? Did they exemplify a form of "incompletely righteous" strength, or did they embody a deeper transformation?
      • Consider the phrase "divested himself of the filthy garments of evil." What did this look like in their life? What did they hold dear, and what did they reject?
      • Reflect on the concept of "superior men" who "convert darkness into light." Where do you see evidence of this in the life of the person you are remembering?
    3. Journaling: The Story of Transformation (10-15 minutes):
      • Begin by writing the name of the person you are remembering.
      • Now, recall a specific story or memory that exemplifies their strength, their resilience, or their capacity for goodness. It doesn't have to be a dramatic event; it could be a quiet moment of kindness, a determined effort to overcome an obstacle, or a time they demonstrated profound compassion.
      • As you write, try to incorporate the language or the spirit of the Tanya passage. For example, if they faced adversity, you might write about how they "waged war against their challenges," or how their struggles eventually "converted into a form of goodness" for themselves or others. If they were known for their ethical living, you might describe how they "utterly despised" things that were contrary to their values.
      • Consider how their life, in its own unique way, might have contributed to "making darkness into light" or "bitter taste into sweetness" for others.
    4. Closing (2 minutes): Read what you have written aloud, or simply hold it in your heart. Thank the person for the story they shared with you, and for the legacy they have left.

Option 3: The Act of Tzedakah (Righteous Giving)

This practice connects the internal work of transformation with external acts of kindness, honoring the spirit of selfless giving.

  • Preparation: You will need a way to make a small offering – this could be monetary, or it could be an offering of time or a specific skill. Identify a cause or an organization that resonates with the values of the person you are remembering, or with the themes of transformation and goodness found in the Tanya passage.

  • The Practice (Approximately 20-25 minutes):

    1. Centering and Intention (5 minutes): Find a quiet place. You might light a candle or simply sit in stillness. Bring to mind the person you are remembering and the lessons of the Tanya passage.
    2. Reading and Connecting (10 minutes): Read the text snapshot. Pay attention to the section that describes the "completely righteous man" whose service is "for the sake of the Above," and the idea of "uniting the Holy One, blessed is He, and His Shechinah within those who dwell in the nethermost worlds."
      • Consider how the person you remember embodied these qualities, perhaps through their acts of kindness, their dedication to a cause, or their commitment to making the world a better place.
      • Reflect on the idea of "converting darkness into light" and "bitter taste into sweetness." How can your act of tzedakah contribute to this transformation in the world?
    3. The Offering (5-10 minutes):
      • If you are making a monetary donation, take a moment to bless the gift. Imagine that this offering carries with it the spirit of the person you are remembering, and the intention of transforming negativity into goodness. You might say silently: "In honor of [Name], and inspired by the teachings of Tanya, I offer this gift to [Name of Organization/Cause]. May it contribute to bringing light where there is darkness, and goodness where there is struggle."
      • If your offering is of time or skill, dedicate that time or skill to a purpose that reflects the values you are honoring. As you engage in this act, hold the intention of transformation and remembrance.
    4. Closing (2 minutes): Feel the resonance of your action. Know that in this act of tzedakah, you are participating in the ongoing work of making the world a more sacred and compassionate place, continuing the legacy of love and goodness.

Community

Grief is a journey that, while deeply personal, is often made more bearable and meaningful when shared. This section explores ways to connect with others, to both offer and receive support, as you navigate your path of remembrance and meaning.

Option 1: The Shared Memory Circle

This practice invites a small group to come together and share their reflections, creating a tapestry of shared remembrance.

  • Setting the Scene: This can be done with family, close friends, or a support group. It is best when the group is no larger than 5-7 people to ensure everyone has space to share. You might gather in a comfortable living room, around a table, or even virtually.

  • The Invitation:

    • You can extend an invitation with a message like this: "I am holding a small gathering to remember [Name of Deceased] and to explore the themes of remembrance and enduring connection, inspired by a teaching about inner transformation. I would be honored if you would join me on [Date] at [Time] at [Location/Virtual Link]. We will share reflections, perhaps read a short text, and offer each other support as we navigate the ongoing presence of [Name]'s memory in our lives. Please let me know if you are able to attend."
  • During the Gathering:

    1. Opening (5 minutes): Begin by lighting a candle in honor of the person being remembered. Briefly explain the intention of the gathering – to honor memory, to find meaning, and to support one another. You might share a very brief, personal reflection on why this gathering feels important to you.
    2. Text and Reflection (10 minutes): Read aloud the provided text snapshot from Tanya. After reading, you can offer a brief reflection on one aspect that resonated with you, such as the idea of "converting darkness into light."
    3. Sharing Memories (15-20 minutes): Invite each person to share a memory, a story, or a reflection about the person being remembered. Encourage them to connect their thoughts to the text, if they feel moved to do so.
      • Prompt examples:
        • "What is a quality of [Name] that you see reflected in the idea of 'waging war against the animal soul' or 'converting evil to goodness'?"
        • "Can you recall a time when [Name] demonstrated profound love or dedication, perhaps embodying the spirit of the 'completely righteous man'?"
        • "How has the memory of [Name] helped you to 'convert darkness into light' in your own life?"
        • "What is a lesson you learned from [Name] that you carry with you, perhaps related to resilience or inner strength?"
    4. Offering Support (5 minutes): After everyone has shared, create a space for quiet reflection. You might offer a closing thought, such as: "Thank you for sharing your precious memories and insights. May we continue to support each other on this journey of remembrance, finding strength and meaning in the enduring love of [Name]."

Option 2: The Legacy Project Contribution

This practice involves actively contributing to a cause or project that honors the deceased, drawing others into their lasting impact.

  • Identifying the Project: This could be a charitable donation, volunteering for an organization they supported, contributing to a memorial fund, or even participating in a creative project that reflects their passions.

  • The Invitation:

    • When inviting others to participate, you can say something like: "In honor of [Name of Deceased], and inspired by their deep belief in [mention their value or cause, e.g., kindness, education, environmentalism], we are launching a [Project Name, e.g., 'Community Garden Initiative,' 'Scholarship Fund'] to continue their legacy. We are reaching out to those who knew and loved [Name] to invite you to be a part of this meaningful endeavor. Your contribution, whether through [mention specific ways to contribute: donating funds, volunteering time, sharing skills], will help us to [explain the impact of the project]. We believe this is a beautiful way to honor [Name]'s spirit and to embody the teachings of transforming struggles into positive action, as we strive to 'convert darkness into light' in our community."
  • Engaging Others:

    1. Clear Communication: Provide clear details about the project, its goals, and how people can contribute. Share the connection to the person being remembered and how the project aligns with their values.
    2. Shared Purpose: Frame the project as a collective effort to honor the deceased's impact. Emphasize that by working together, you are not only remembering them but also actively continuing their positive influence.
    3. Regular Updates: Keep participants informed about the progress of the project. Share stories of impact, highlight contributions, and celebrate milestones. This fosters a sense of ongoing connection and shared accomplishment.
    4. Reflection on the Text: Periodically, you can share excerpts from the Tanya passage or other relevant texts, connecting them to the work being done. For example, you might send an email saying: "As we continue to build [Project Name], let us remember the words from Tanya: 'they convert evil and make it ascend to holiness.' Our efforts to [mention project activity] are a tangible way we are doing just that, transforming the memory of [Name] into acts of goodness and light."

Option 3: The "Words of Comfort" Jar

This practice involves creating a collection of supportive messages, drawing on the wisdom of community to offer solace.

  • Preparation: You will need a jar or a decorative box, small slips of paper, and pens.

  • The Invitation:

    • Send out an invitation, perhaps via email or a private message, with a message like: "In remembrance of [Name of Deceased], and as a way to offer comfort and support to one another, I am creating a 'Words of Comfort' jar. I invite you to write a short message – a word of encouragement, a cherished memory, a blessing, or a reflection on the enduring nature of love – and share it with me. These messages will be collected in a jar, to be drawn upon during times when we need a reminder of our connection and the strength that lies within our community and in the lessons of resilience. As the Tanya teaches us about finding goodness even in struggle, these words can serve as a gentle reminder of that enduring light."
  • Collecting and Sharing:

    1. Collecting Messages: As messages are received, place them in the jar. Ensure the anonymity of contributors if they wish, or you can encourage them to sign their names.
    2. Moments of Drawing: When you or others are feeling a need for comfort, you can draw a message from the jar. Read it aloud, or share it with the person who might benefit most.
    3. Group Sharing (Optional): You might schedule a brief gathering where participants can draw and share a message, or where you can read a selection of messages anonymously.
    4. Connecting to the Text: You can occasionally share messages from the jar alongside relevant quotes from the Tanya, reinforcing the themes of resilience, inner strength, and the transformation of difficulty into something meaningful. For example, after reading a message that speaks of overcoming challenges, you might pair it with the Tanya's idea of "waging war against his animal soul" and finding "goodness" through that struggle.

These community practices are designed to foster connection, to share the weight of grief, and to amplify the enduring love and legacy of those we remember. They offer a way to weave the wisdom of ancient texts into the fabric of our contemporary experience, finding hope and meaning in shared remembrance.

Takeaway

The wisdom of Tanya, as explored through the lens of grief and remembrance, offers us a profound invitation: to engage with our inner landscape with both honesty and compassion. It encourages us to recognize that the journey of transformation is not about erasing struggle, but about integrating it, about finding the capacity to convert the difficult into the meaningful, the bitter into the sweet. In the act of remembering, we too can strive to embody this process, honoring the legacies of those we love by allowing their memory to illuminate our own path toward goodness and enduring connection. May you find strength, solace, and continued meaning in this sacred work.