Tanya, Part I; Likkutei Amarim 11:1

Hook

There are moments in our journey of grief when remembrance feels less like a gentle current and more like navigating a complex, swirling tide. We hold the shimmering beauty of shared laughter, the quiet strength of their presence, the profound impact of their love. And alongside these, there can be memories that are textured with challenge, tinged with regret, or shaded by actions we found difficult to understand or reconcile. It is in these intricate spaces that grief deepens, inviting us to hold not just an idealized image, but the full, rich, and sometimes perplexing tapestry of a human soul.

This gathering is an invitation to lean into that complexity, to acknowledge that the people we remember, like all of us, were beings of profound inner struggle and immense potential. It is a space to honor their complete humanity – the light that shone brightly, the shadows they wrestled with, and the unseen battles waged within their hearts. We gather not to judge, but to understand; not to diminish, but to expand our capacity for compassion, both for them and for ourselves in our remembrance.

Ancient wisdom traditions, with their deep understanding of the human spirit, offer us a unique lens through which to view these inner landscapes. They recognize that the soul is not a monolithic entity, but a dynamic interplay of forces. Today, we turn to a profound teaching from the Tanya, a foundational text of Chassidic philosophy, written by Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi. This text, often perceived as an esoteric guide to spiritual self-mastery, offers us a surprisingly tender and deeply compassionate framework for understanding the intricacies of the human soul. It provides a vocabulary for the inner wrestling match between our higher aspirations and our earthly impulses, validating the struggles we witnessed in those we loved, and perhaps, the struggles we continue to navigate within ourselves.

This sacred text reminds us that even in moments when a person's actions or choices felt distant from their inherent goodness, that goodness, their divine spark, was never truly extinguished. It helps us hold space for the full spectrum of their being, offering a pathway to remembrance that is honest, expansive, and infused with an enduring sense of hope – hope not for a revisionist history, but for a deeper, more empathetic understanding of the soul's eternal journey. Let us open our hearts to this wisdom, allowing it to illuminate the intricate beauty of the souls we hold dear, and to affirm the enduring presence of the Divine within every human experience.

Level and Mode

This ritual is designed for an intermediate level of engagement, requiring a willingness to reflect deeply and sit with complex emotions. It is a standard mode practice, suitable for a focused 15-minute personal or small group reflection, though its themes can resonate for much longer.

Text Snapshot

From Tanya, Part I; Likkutei Amarim 11:1:

"One is the opposite the other"—the “wicked man who prospers” is antithetical to the “righteous man who suffers.” That is to say, the goodness that is in his divine soul which is in his brain and in the right part of his heart is subservient to, and nullified by, the evil of the kelipah that is in the left part...

There is also the person in whom the wickedness prevails more strongly, and all three garments of evil clothe themselves in him, causing him to commit more heinous and more frequent sins. But intermittently he suffers remorse, and thoughts of repentance enter his mind, from the quality of good that is in his soul that gathers strength now and then...

But he who never feels contrition, and in whose mind no thoughts of repentance at all ever enter, is called the “wicked who suffers,” for the evil that is in his soul has alone remained in him, having so prevailed over the good that the latter has already departed from within him, standing aloof, so to speak, over him. Therefore the Sages have said, “On every gathering of ten [Jews] the Shechinah rests.”

Kavvanah

Our Kavvanah, our sacred intention for this ritual, is to hold space for the full, complex humanity of the one we remember, recognizing the divine spark within them despite their struggles, and finding compassion for their journey and our own. It is to understand that even in moments of perceived absence of good, the potential for connection to the Divine remains, eternally present, eternally seeking expression.

The Two Souls: A Framework for Compassion

The Tanya, in this chapter, presents a profound and nuanced understanding of the human being, not as a simple dichotomy of good or evil, but as a battleground, a dynamic interplay between two souls. There is the Nefesh Elokit, the Divine Soul, which is a literal "part of G-d above," pure and inherently good, yearning for connection, truth, and holiness. This is the source of our deepest virtues, our capacity for unconditional love, our longing for meaning beyond ourselves. Then there is the Nefesh HaBehamit, the Animal Soul, which is the source of our physical desires, our ego, our self-preservation, and our drive for personal comfort and satisfaction. While not inherently evil, it is the root of what the Tanya refers to as kelipah, shells or husks that can obscure the light of the Divine Soul, leading to actions and thoughts that are self-serving, destructive, or simply distracting from our higher purpose.

This teaching offers us an invaluable framework for remembrance. When we grieve, we often grapple with the entirety of a person – their virtues that brought us joy and their flaws that brought us pain or confusion. The Tanya invites us to see these complexities not as contradictions, but as manifestations of this internal dialogue. The actions we admired were expressions of their Divine Soul. The struggles, the missteps, the challenging behaviors, were often the kelipah of their Animal Soul overshadowing, or making subservient, the inherent good. This does not excuse harm or negate pain, but it provides a deeper lens of understanding, shifting our perspective from judgment to profound, albeit sometimes painful, compassion for the human condition.

The Spectrum of Struggle: Beyond Black and White

The text goes on to describe a spectrum of inner struggle, categorizing individuals not as wholly "righteous" or "wicked," but by the degree to which their Divine Soul's light is obscured. We see the person who occasionally stumbles but is quickly filled with remorse, their good asserting itself. We see the person who struggles more frequently and intensely, yet still experiences "intermittent remorse," a sign that their Divine Soul is "gathering strength now and then." And then, there is the most challenging category: the "wicked who suffers," where the good seems to have "departed from within him, standing aloof, so to speak, over him."

This detailed spectrum is a powerful tool for our Kavvanah in remembrance. Few people, if any, reside solely at either extreme. Most of us, and certainly most of those we grieve, walked a path somewhere in the middle, constantly wrestling with their inner selves. This teaching validates the full spectrum of their experience. It helps us to acknowledge that some individuals truly struggled profoundly, perhaps unable to consistently access or express the goodness that lay within them. It enables us to recognize the effort of their Divine Soul, even when it was overcome by kelipah. This allows for a remembrance that is honest, acknowledging the difficult truths without reducing the person to those truths alone.

The Enduring Spark: Hope Without Denial

The most critical and comforting insight for our Kavvanah lies in the Tanya's assurance regarding even the "wicked who suffers." The text explicitly states that in such a person, the good has not been destroyed; it has merely "departed from within him, standing aloof." It is in a state of "suspended animation," paralyzed yet not annihilated. Crucially, the footnote clarifies: "Hence, even the 'completely wicked' individual can, through a paramount effort, reactivate the good, and repent, for 'the gates of repentance are not closed to anyone.'"

This is the core of our hope, not a denial of reality, but a profound spiritual truth. It means that the inherent divine goodness, the very essence of the soul, is never truly lost. Even when actions seemed to betray it, or when remorse felt absent, the spark remained. It was simply "standing aloof," waiting for the possibility of reactivation. When we remember someone, especially if their life was marked by significant struggles or caused pain, this teaching invites us to hold onto the eternal, untainted essence of their soul. It allows us to separate the soul from the actions, to understand that the person was more than their behaviors, more than their flaws. Their divine spark, a literal piece of the Divine, remains whole and pure, forever connected to its Source.

The Shechinah's Embrace: Divine Presence in Imperfection

Finally, the text concludes with the teaching: "On every gathering of ten [Jews] the Shechinah rests." The footnote adds, "That is to say, even if they are wicked, the Shechinah rests upon them." This is a radical statement of unconditional divine presence. It tells us that God's presence, the Shechinah, is not contingent on human perfection. It dwells even in imperfect, struggling, and sometimes "wicked" spaces.

For our Kavvanah, this means that the Divine was present within the person we remember, not just in their moments of clarity and goodness, but also within their struggles, within their imperfections, within the very battle of their two souls. It implies an encompassing love and presence that embraces the totality of their being. When we remember them, we are inviting the Shechinah into our own complex remembrance, knowing that this sacred presence can hold all aspects of their story, and all aspects of our grief, with infinite compassion and understanding.

Our Kavvanah, therefore, is to step into this space of profound spiritual empathy. To look beyond the surface of actions, to recognize the intricate dance of souls within the one we remember, and to affirm the eternal, untainted spark of the Divine that resided within them, and indeed, resides within us all. May this intention guide us to a remembrance that is truthful, tender, and deeply healing.

Practice

The Tapestry of the Soul: Weaving a Nuanced Remembrance

This practice invites you to engage deeply with the Tanya's wisdom by creating a "tapestry" of remembrance. This isn't about rewriting history or denying difficult truths, but about expanding your capacity to hold the full, complex humanity of the person you remember, acknowledging the dynamic interplay of their divine and animal souls. It’s a journey of compassionate understanding, illuminating the enduring divine spark even amidst their struggles. This practice can take 15 minutes or much longer, depending on your depth of engagement.

Preparation: Creating Sacred Space

1. Find Your Sanctuary: Choose a quiet, undisturbed space where you feel safe to reflect and express yourself. This could be a favorite chair, a quiet corner of your home, or a peaceful spot outdoors.
2. Gather Your Tools:
   • Journal and Pen: Essential for capturing your thoughts and feelings without judgment. Consider a dedicated journal for this grief journey.
   • Meaningful Objects (Optional but Recommended): Bring a few items that remind you of the person – a photograph, a piece of their clothing, a favorite book, an object they cherished, or something that evokes their scent. These tangible anchors can help connect you to their presence.
   • A Candle (Optional): Lighting a candle can symbolize the eternal flame of their soul and set a sacred intention for your practice. As you light it, you might whisper their name, acknowledging their enduring light.
3. Centering Yourself: Take a few slow, deep breaths. Inhale peace, exhale tension. Allow yourself to arrive fully in this moment. Close your eyes for a moment, and gently bring the image of the person you are remembering into your mind's eye. Acknowledge their presence with love and reverence.

Guided Practice: Weaving the Threads

### Step 1: Invoking the Divine Spark – The Thread of Pure Goodness

Begin by connecting with the essence of their Divine Soul, the Nefesh Elokit. This is the untainted, pure part of them, a reflection of the Divine. Think of this as the brilliant, luminous thread that runs through their entire being, never broken, never diminished.

• Reflection Prompts:
  • What were the moments when their inherent goodness shone most brightly?
  • Recall instances of their unconditional love, profound kindness, unexpected generosity, or unwavering integrity.
  • What unique qualities did they possess that felt truly selfless, truly divine?
  • When did you feel closest to their purest essence, their true spirit?
  • What legacy of goodness, however small or grand, did they undeniably leave behind?
• Journaling/Speaking: Take your pen and write down these memories, qualities, and moments. Don't censor yourself. Let the words flow, describing the light you saw in them. If you prefer, you can speak these memories aloud, as if sharing them with their spirit. As you reflect, visualize this thread of pure goodness, perhaps as a golden or silver light, weaving through their life story. This step grounds your remembrance in their essential, eternal worth, affirming the tzaddik gamur (completely righteous) aspect that, according to Tanya, resides as a potential or core truth within every soul. It’s a powerful affirmation that regardless of life's complexities, a fundamental goodness was always present. This isn't about ignoring flaws, but about consciously beginning with their inherent sacredness.

### Step 2: Exploring the "Struggling Good" – The Thread of Effort and Remorse

Now, let us turn to the nuances of the Nefesh HaBehamit and its interplay with the Divine Soul. The Tanya describes those who struggle, make mistakes, but feel remorse and seek to correct their path – the "wicked full of remorse," or those on the journey of the beinoni (intermediate person). This represents the moments when their divine soul was "subservient" to the animal soul, but not extinguished, always striving to reassert itself. This thread is textured with both challenge and the quiet courage of seeking to do better.

• Reflection Prompts:
  • Recall times when they faced inner conflict or external challenges that led to difficult choices or actions.
  • When did you observe them making a mistake, expressing regret, or attempting to atone or learn from an experience?
  • Were there moments when you saw them wrestle with a habit, a temperament, or a personal flaw, striving to overcome it, even if they didn't always succeed?
  • What signs did you see of their desire for self-improvement, for a deeper connection to their better self, even if it was intermittent?
  • Consider their vulnerability, their humanity. How did their struggles perhaps reveal a deeper longing for goodness or peace?
• Journaling/Speaking: Write about these instances with empathy. Focus on the process of their struggle, the remorse, the effort, rather than solely on the "failure" or the "sin." How did their divine soul gather strength and try to reassert itself? What did their efforts, even if imperfect, reveal about their character? This part of the tapestry is often where the most profound lessons and deepest compassion reside. It allows us to honor their journey, recognizing that spiritual growth is rarely linear. By acknowledging their efforts and remorse, you are honoring the continuous presence of their divine spark, even when it was battling for expression. This helps to move beyond simple judgment towards a more complete and compassionate understanding of their inner world.

### Step 3: Holding the "Hidden Good" – The Thread of Unseen Potential

This is often the most challenging, yet potentially most transformative, part of the practice. Here, we address the "wicked who suffers" aspect – moments where their actions or words seemed to be entirely overshadowed by kelipah, where the good appeared "departed" or "aloof." These might be memories of deep pain they caused, seemingly unrepentant actions, or aspects of their personality that felt fundamentally disconnected from goodness.

• Crucial Understanding: The Tanya's radical teaching here is that even then, the divine spark is not destroyed. It merely stands "aloof," waiting for reactivation. This practice is not about condoning harm, excusing abusive behavior, or forcing forgiveness if you are not ready. It is about striving to understand the internal landscape of a deeply struggling soul, where the good was hidden, but never truly gone. It acknowledges that sometimes, profound pain, brokenness, or spiritual paralysis can obscure the light of the divine soul to such an extent that it seems absent.
• Reflection Prompts:
  • Think of the most difficult memories, the actions or words that caused pain, confusion, or a sense of betrayal.
  • Without excusing the behavior, can you contemplate the context of their pain or struggle? What forces might have been at play in their life – their own suffering, trauma, societal pressures, unaddressed wounds – that contributed to their actions?
  • Can you imagine their divine spark, though "aloof," still present within them, perhaps yearning for expression, even if they lacked the inner resources or awareness to access it?
  • How might their actions, however difficult, have been a distorted cry for something good, something they were missing, or a desperate attempt to cope with their own brokenness?
  • What does the Tanya's teaching – that the good is never destroyed, only hidden – offer to your understanding of these painful memories? Can it allow for a sliver of compassion for their suffering soul, even if not for their actions?
• Journaling/Speaking: This step requires immense courage and compassion. Write about these difficult memories, but now, try to hold them through the lens of a "hidden good." You might write: "Even in this difficult memory, I acknowledge the teaching that their divine spark was present, though deeply hidden and obscured by their pain/struggle. I choose to believe in that unseen potential, even if they couldn't access it themselves." Or: "While their actions caused great pain, I recognize the possibility that their own suffering may have overshadowed the goodness that the Tanya assures me was still within them." This is not about denying your feelings or their impact; it is about expanding your spiritual perspective on the person's internal reality. It is a profound act of spiritual empathy, allowing you to hold the full weight of human imperfection while still affirming the ultimate sanctity of the soul.

### Step 4: Weaving the Tapestry – An Integrated Whole

Now, look at all you have written. Read through the threads you've created: the shining good, the struggling good, the hidden good. See how these different facets – the luminous, the textured, and the profoundly challenging – come together to form a complete, rich tapestry of their soul.

• Reflection Prompts:
  • How does holding all these threads together change your understanding of the person?
  • Do you see a more complete picture, less fragmented, more integrated?
  • What does this tapestry reveal about the complexity of the human condition and the journey of every soul?
  • How does this nuanced remembrance impact your feelings of grief, compassion, or even peace?
  • What enduring legacy, in its fullest, most honest form, do you now perceive?
• Journaling/Speaking: Write a concluding reflection. Perhaps a prayer, a poem, or a simple statement acknowledging the profound journey you've taken. You might say: "I behold the tapestry of your soul, woven with threads of brilliant light, courageous struggle, and hidden depths. I honor your full humanity, and I hold the eternal spark of your divine essence, knowing it is forever whole and connected to its Source." This integration allows your grief to expand, embracing the full truth of who they were, fostering a deeper sense of acceptance and peace within your own heart. It is a testament to the enduring power of love to hold both joy and sorrow, light and shadow, in a unified embrace.

Closing the Practice

Gently place your hands over your heart. Take a moment to feel the weight and beauty of this tapestry you have woven. Thank the person you remembered for their presence in your life, in all its forms. Thank yourself for the courage to engage in this deep work. Extinguish your candle, if you lit one, carrying its light within you as a reminder of the enduring divine spark in all souls. This practice is a profound act of love, compassion, and spiritual wisdom, transforming remembrance into a sacred dialogue with the deepest truths of existence.

Community

Grief, especially when it involves complex or challenging memories, can feel incredibly isolating. Society often pressures us to present an idealized version of the departed, leaving little room for the full, textured truth of their lives. Yet, it is precisely in the sharing of these nuanced stories, these "tapestries of the soul," that we can find profound communal healing and support.

Shared Tapestry of Remembrance: Building a Compassionate Collective

This practice invites you to extend the personal work of weaving a nuanced remembrance into a communal setting. The goal is to create a safe, non-judgmental space where trusted others—friends, family, or members of a grief support group—can contribute to a collective understanding of the person, acknowledging their full humanity, both light and shadow, through the lens of the Tanya's wisdom.

### Creating the Sacred Circle

1. Choose Your Circle Wisely: Select individuals with whom you feel a sense of trust and psychological safety. These should be people who can listen with an open heart and respect the complexity of human experience, even when it's uncomfortable. This might be a small group of two or three, or a larger, facilitated grief group.
2. Set the Intention Together: Before beginning, articulate the Kavvanah for this shared space. You might say: "Today, we gather to honor [Name]'s full humanity. Inspired by an ancient text, we understand that every person is a beautiful, complex tapestry woven with threads of divine goodness, human struggle, and sometimes, hidden potential. We are here to share our memories – not to judge, but to expand our compassion and understanding of [Name]'s journey, and to hold space for the enduring divine spark within them."
3. Share Your Own Tapestry First: As the initiator of this practice, consider sharing aspects of your own nuanced remembrance that you developed in the personal practice. This act of vulnerability models the open-heartedness and courage you hope to foster in others. You might share a specific memory that illustrates their pure goodness, a time you witnessed their struggle and subsequent remorse, or how you are learning to hold a challenging memory through the lens of their "hidden good." This gives others permission to explore their own complex memories.

### Weaving Together: Guidelines for Sharing

1. Listen Actively and Without Judgment: Encourage everyone to listen with deep empathy, refraining from interruption, correction, or immediate commentary. The goal is to hear each person's unique perspective, recognizing that everyone's relationship with the departed was different and equally valid.
2. Focus on the Divine Spark and Inner Struggle: Gently guide the conversation to always return to the idea of the inherent divine spark within the person. Even when difficult memories are shared, invite reflection on:
   • "What might have been the inner struggle or hidden pain at play here?"
   • "How might their divine soul have been trying to assert itself, even subtly, in that situation?"
   • "What might this difficult memory reveal about the immense challenges they faced on their soul's journey?"
   • "Where can we still see glimpses of their inherent goodness, even when it was overshadowed?"
3. Honor All Emotions: Affirm that all emotions are welcome – sadness, anger, confusion, love, regret. The space is for honest remembrance, not for suppressing feelings. However, reinforce that the intention is to understand the person through their complexities, not to engage in blame or to deny individual experiences of pain.
4. No Pressure for Forgiveness or Resolution: Emphasize that this communal practice is for understanding and remembrance, not necessarily for immediate forgiveness or resolution of pain. Individuals may be at different stages in their grief journey, and some wounds may require different paths to healing. The purpose is to collectively build a richer, more compassionate narrative.
5. Acknowledge the Collective Tapestry: As each person shares, you might visualize their contribution as another thread being added to the communal tapestry of remembrance. This creates a collective, multi-dimensional portrait of the person, far richer and more complete than any single individual could create alone.

### Asking for Support

Do not hesitate to ask for support in holding these complex memories. You might say: "It's hard for me to hold onto [difficult memory] and still feel connected to [Name]'s goodness. Your perspective on their journey helps me to see more of the tapestry." Or: "I'm finding it challenging to sit with [specific complexity]. Knowing that we are all trying to understand them more deeply brings me comfort." Sometimes, just having others acknowledge the multi-faceted nature of a person, and the struggles they faced, can be incredibly validating and healing. It creates a community that can hold both the beauty and the brokenness of a life lived.

This shared practice helps to build a more honest, compassionate, and ultimately more enduring legacy for the departed. It reminds us that we are not alone in our grief, and that together, we can embrace the full, sacred truth of a human life, recognizing that even in imperfection, the divine light always remains.

Takeaway

Our journey through grief asks us to hold the full, intricate tapestry of a soul, woven with threads of radiant light, courageous struggle, and hidden depths. The wisdom of the Tanya provides us with a profound lens, assuring us that even in the most challenging moments, when goodness seemed distant or obscured, the divine spark within every individual remains eternally present, merely "standing aloof," never destroyed.

This understanding does not diminish our pain, nor does it ask us to deny the impact of difficult experiences. Instead, it invites us to expand our compassion – for the one we remember in their complete humanity, and for ourselves as we navigate the complexities of our grief. By embracing this nuanced truth, we cultivate a remembrance that is rich, honest, and ultimately, more whole. We affirm that love can hold both joy and sorrow, light and shadow, in a unified embrace, and that the gates of understanding and compassion are never closed. May this ritual guide you toward a deeper sense of peace, knowing that the essence of the soul endures, forever connected to its Source.