Tanya, Part I; Likkutei Amarim 12:7

Hook

This moment meets us at the threshold of remembrance, a space we create to honor those who have walked this earth before us. Whether it’s the anniversary of a passing, a significant life event, or simply a quiet Tuesday afternoon when a memory surfaces, this time is dedicated to bridging the space between then and now, between presence and absence. We gather our thoughts, our feelings, and our intentions to connect with the enduring threads of their lives that continue to weave through our own. This is not about dwelling in sorrow, but about actively engaging with the meaning they left behind, allowing their light to illuminate our path forward.

Text Snapshot

From Tanya, Part I, Likkutei Amarim 12:7:

"The benoni (intermediate) is he in whom evil never attains enough power to capture the 'small city,' so as to clothe itself in the body and make it sin. That is to say, the three 'garments' of the animal soul, namely, thought, speech, and act, originating in the kelipah, do not prevail within him over the divine soul to the extent of clothing themselves in the body—in the brain, in the mouth, and in the other 248 parts—thereby causing them to sin and defiling them, G–d forbid. Only the three garments of the divine soul, they alone are implemented in the body, being the thought, speech, and act engaged in the 613 commandments of the Torah."

This passage speaks to the inner landscape of a person who, while not yet a perfected saint, possesses a profound capacity to align their actions, words, and thoughts with their higher purpose. It describes a state of being where the forces that might lead to transgression are held in check, not by eradication, but by a conscious and consistent redirection toward holiness. The emphasis is on the prevention of sin, not on the absence of internal struggle. It’s a testament to the power of conscious will and the inherent strength of the divine spark within.

Kavvanah

Holding the Space of Becoming

My intention in this moment is to cultivate a compassionate understanding of the human journey, particularly as it relates to navigating the complexities of our inner lives and the enduring impact of love. The passage from Tanya offers a profound perspective on the benoni, the individual who consistently strives to embody their highest ideals, even amidst the ongoing presence of less elevated impulses. This concept resonates deeply with the experience of grief and remembrance. When we remember those we have loved and lost, we are often confronted with the multifaceted nature of their beings – their strengths and their struggles, their triumphs and their vulnerabilities. Just as the benoni doesn't erase their animal soul but directs its energy toward divine service, so too, in remembering, we can embrace the full spectrum of a person’s humanity, acknowledging both the light and the shadows, and finding meaning in the entirety of their existence.

This kavvanah invites us to hold a spacious awareness for ourselves and for those we remember. It is an invitation to move beyond simplistic narratives of good and bad, and to recognize the ongoing process of becoming that defines us all. In grief, we are often in a state of transition, a "benoni" phase of our own emotional and spiritual lives, where the old ways of being are challenged, and new understandings are slowly taking root. The benoni is defined not by perfection, but by their consistent effort to align with their divine purpose. Similarly, our remembrance is not about achieving a perfect state of detachment or an unblemished memory, but about the ongoing practice of holding love, meaning, and connection in our hearts.

Therefore, I intend to approach this ritual with a gentle recognition that growth, healing, and deep connection are not linear. They are often characterized by periods of clarity and periods of fog, by moments of profound insight and moments of deep questioning. The benoni's victory lies in their unwavering commitment to redirecting their internal energies, even when the animal soul stirs. In our remembrance, we can honor this dedication by acknowledging the journey of the beloved, the challenges they faced, and the strength they possessed in navigating their own inner world. We can also extend this grace to ourselves, recognizing that our grief is a testament to our love, and our continued engagement with their memory is an act of profound spiritual commitment. This intention is to honor the process of living, remembering, and becoming, embracing the wisdom that lies not just in arrival, but in the sacred unfolding of the journey.

Practice

The Altar of Intentionality

This micro-practice invites you to engage with a tangible representation of memory and meaning, drawing inspiration from the Tanya's emphasis on directing our internal energies. We will create a small, personal "altar of intentionality," a sacred space that can be adapted to your comfort and resources. This is not about accumulating objects, but about the deliberate act of focusing your intention.

Step 1: Gathering Your Elements (Choose one or more)

• The Candle of Illumination: Select a candle. This could be a simple tea light, a pillar candle, or a memorial candle. The flame symbolizes the enduring light of the person you are remembering, the spark of their life that continues to illuminate your path. It also represents the clarity and focus we strive for in directing our thoughts and actions, mirroring the benoni's redirection of internal energies. As you light it, you might say, "May this flame illuminate the precious memories of [Name] and the enduring light they brought into the world."

• The Name of Resonance: Write the name of the person you are remembering on a small piece of paper, a smooth stone, or even speak it aloud with deep intention. The act of naming is powerful. It grounds the abstract concept of memory into a tangible form. The Tanya speaks of the "small city" of the body and the "garments" of thought, speech, and act. By speaking or writing the name, you are engaging one of these garments, bringing the essence of the beloved into your present awareness through the power of declaration. This act acknowledges their existence and your connection.

• The Story Seed: Choose an object that holds a specific, potent memory of the person. This could be a photograph, a small trinket they cherished, a flower, or even a scent. This object acts as a "story seed," capable of germinating a specific recollection. The Tanya contrasts the true fulfillment of the divine soul's garments (thought, speech, act in service of commandments) with the potential for the animal soul's garments to lead to sin. By focusing on a positive memory, you are intentionally directing your "garments" towards remembrance of good, a practice akin to the benoni's redirection. Hold the object, close your eyes, and allow a specific, vivid memory to surface. What did you see, hear, feel, smell, or even taste in that moment? Allow yourself to be present with that sensory experience.

• The Seed of Kindness (Tzedakah): Set aside a small coin or a token representing a future act of kindness or charity in their name. The Tanya emphasizes the importance of directing our actions towards holiness. This practice extends that principle beyond our internal state to outward acts of goodness. Choosing to perform a mitzvah (commandment) or an act of kindness in their memory is a way of continuing their legacy through positive action. This is a tangible commitment to channeling the energy of remembrance into a force for good in the world, a direct echo of the benoni's commitment to the commandments.

Step 2: Arranging Your Altar

Find a quiet space where you can be undisturbed for a few minutes. Arrange your chosen elements in a way that feels meaningful to you. It doesn't need to be elaborate. The power lies in the intentionality behind each element.

Step 3: The Moment of Connection

Once your altar is set, take a few deep breaths. Allow yourself to be present in this space. If you have chosen a candle, light it with the intention of honoring the enduring light of the person you remember. If you have chosen to speak their name, do so with reverence. If you have a "story seed," hold it gently and recall the memory it evokes. If you have your "seed of kindness," hold it and contemplate the act of tzedakah you will perform.

As you engage with these elements, consider the Tanya's concept of the benoni. Recognize that even as you hold these sacred memories, the world continues to move. Yet, in this focused moment, you are deliberately directing your internal "garments" – your thought, speech, and intention – towards remembrance and meaning. You are not trying to erase any difficult emotions or complex feelings that may arise. Instead, you are practicing the art of redirection, of choosing to focus on the enduring light, the positive impact, and the love that transcends absence. This practice is a gentle, yet powerful, affirmation of the sacred connection you continue to share.

Community

The Echo of Shared Stories

In the journey of grief and remembrance, we are never truly alone, even when we feel most isolated. The Tanya's description of the benoni highlights the internal struggle and redirection, but it also implicitly suggests that these internal battles are part of the human experience, an experience shared by all. Connecting with others who have known and loved the person you remember can amplify the meaning and support you find.

Sharing a Ripple of Remembrance

Consider reaching out to one or two individuals with whom you shared this loved one. This can be done through a phone call, a text message, an email, or even a brief in-person encounter. The intention is not to burden them with your grief, but to create a small ripple of shared remembrance.

You might say something like:

• "I was thinking about [Name] today, and a specific memory came to me. I wondered if you remembered [briefly describe a positive memory or characteristic]? It brought a smile to my face."
• "I'm holding a moment of remembrance for [Name] today, and I wanted to share that their [mention a positive quality, e.g., kindness, humor, wisdom] continues to inspire me. Does a similar feeling come to you when you think of them?"
• "I'm creating a small space for remembrance today, and I felt a gentle pull to connect with you, knowing you also knew [Name]. I was just remembering [a shared experience or a trait you both appreciated]."

The beauty of this practice lies in its simplicity and its power to create a brief, yet meaningful, connection. When we share stories, we are not only honoring the person we remember, but we are also affirming our own connection to them and to each other. These shared echoes can remind us that the love and impact of a life extend far beyond a single individual, creating a tapestry of shared experience. This act of reaching out, of allowing others to participate in the remembrance, is a gentle way of acknowledging that while our personal journey through grief is unique, the threads of connection that bind us to those we've lost, and to each other, are a source of profound strength and solace. It’s a subtle yet significant way of carrying forward the legacy of love and connection, a communal act of keeping their spirit alive.

Takeaway

The wisdom from the Tanya, particularly regarding the benoni, offers a profound lens through which to approach remembrance. It teaches us that strength is not found in the absence of internal conflict, but in the conscious and consistent redirection of our energies toward our highest intentions. In the context of grief, this translates to embracing the full spectrum of our memories – the joyous and the challenging – and choosing to focus our present intention on the enduring light, love, and legacy that continue to shape us. By engaging in practices that anchor our intention, such as lighting a candle or sharing a story, and by extending our remembrance into acts of kindness and connection with others, we participate in a living legacy. We honor the past not by dwelling in it, but by allowing its lessons and its love to illuminate our present and inspire our future. This is the ongoing, sacred work of memory and meaning.