Tanya, Part I; Likkutei Amarim 6:1

Hook

We gather today, in this quiet space, to honor a particular turning of the year, a moment that invites us to reflect on the enduring threads of love and connection that weave through our lives. Perhaps it is an anniversary of a profound loss, a birthday that now feels different, or simply a season that carries a particular resonance with the memory of someone cherished. The air itself might feel thinner, carrying whispers of conversations now held only in the heart. This time, irrespective of its specific calendar marking, is a sacred pause, a deliberate turning towards the enduring presence of those who have shaped us, even in their physical absence. It is a time for the gentle unfolding of remembrance, not as a burden, but as a source of quiet strength and a testament to the indelible mark left on our souls. We are here to acknowledge the space they occupied, a space that, while altered, is far from empty. It is a space filled with the echoes of laughter, the warmth of shared wisdom, the comfort of familiar presence, and the enduring legacy of their being. This moment is an invitation to hold these memories with tenderness, to allow them to breathe within us, and to find meaning in their continued impact on who we are today.

Text Snapshot

"G–d has made one thing opposite the other."

Just as the divine soul consists of ten holy sefirot and is clothed in three holy garments, so does the soul derived from the sitra achara of the kelipat nogah, clothed in man’s blood, consist of ten “crowns of impurity.” These are the seven evil middot which stem from the four evil elements, and the intellect begetting them. When a person meditates in them, speaks them, or acts by them, his thought, speech, and action become the “impure garments” of these ten unclean categories. All these deeds are “vanity and striving after the wind,” all utterances and thoughts not directed toward G–d. For this is the meaning of sitra achara—the other side, not the side of holiness.

Kavvanah

As we embark on this journey of remembrance and meaning-making, let us hold a specific intention, a guiding light for our practice today. Our kavvanah, our heartfelt aspiration, is to cultivate a profound understanding of the presence that endures, even in the face of absence. We are not seeking to erase the pain of loss, nor to pretend that the space left behind is not felt. Instead, we are here to explore the intricate tapestry of existence, as described in the ancient wisdom before us, and to find within its profound duality a pathway to deeper connection.

The text speaks of "one thing opposite the other," a concept that resonates deeply with the experience of grief. The joy we once knew is now shadowed by sorrow; the presence of a loved one is now felt as an absence. This is not a contradiction, but a natural order, a cosmic interplay that shapes our reality. The wisdom suggests that even the "other side," the realm of impurity and separation, derives its existence and vitality from a higher source. This is not to equate the two, but to recognize a fundamental interconnectedness, a divine orchestration that encompasses all that is.

Therefore, our intention is to embrace this duality within our own experience. We will allow ourselves to feel the ache of absence, the pang of longing, without letting it define the entirety of our remembrance. We will also actively seek out and acknowledge the persistent presence of our loved ones – in the echoes of their laughter, in the lessons they taught us, in the values they instilled, and in the very fabric of our being that they helped to shape.

We aim to understand that the "impure garments" mentioned in the text, the thoughts, words, and actions that might seem to pull us away from holiness or towards negativity, can also be reframed. When we choose to direct our thoughts, words, and actions towards remembrance, towards gratitude, towards the continuation of their legacy, we are, in essence, reclaiming these very faculties and turning them towards the side of holiness. This act of conscious redirection is powerful. It is an affirmation of our agency, our ability to imbue our experiences, even those touched by sorrow, with meaning and purpose.

Our kavvanah is to see the divine spark, the Shechinah, not only in moments of overt spiritual connection but also in the quiet acts of remembrance and love. The text reminds us that "Even when a single individual sits and engages in the Torah the Shechinah rests on him." We can extend this to our engagement with the memory of our loved ones. When we sit with their memory, when we engage with their legacy, when we allow their essence to inform our actions, we are creating a sacred space where their presence, and the divine light that illuminated their lives, continues to reside.

We also intend to recognize that this process is not always linear. Grief has its own rhythms, its own seasons. There will be times when the "other side" feels more dominant, when the weight of absence feels overwhelming. Our intention is not to force ourselves into a state of perpetual light, but to gently acknowledge the shadows, understanding that they, too, are part of the larger reality, and that even within them, a path towards meaning can be found. The wisdom speaks of a diminished light, a vitality that descends "behind its back." This can be a metaphor for how the memory of our loved ones might feel at times – distant, perhaps even faint. Yet, the text also assures us that this diminished light still sustains existence, still provides vitality. Similarly, the memory of our loved ones, even when it feels less vibrant, continues to sustain us, to inform us, and to be a part of our ongoing existence.

Our deepest intention is to move beyond simply remembering a person who is gone, and to actively engage with the meaning they continue to impart. We want to move from a passive recollection to an active integration of their essence into our lives. This means examining our own thoughts, words, and deeds through the lens of their values, their passions, their unique spirit. It means recognizing that the "vanity and striving after the wind" can be transformed into purposeful action when guided by the enduring light of those we hold dear.

Finally, our kavvanah is to approach this practice with a spirit of hope, not a hope that denies the reality of loss, but a hope that arises from the profound understanding of connection and continuity. It is the hope that even in the face of "ruination of the spirit," as the text describes some mundane pursuits, we can find pathways to spiritual renewal through remembrance. It is the hope that the light of those we have loved, however diminished it may sometimes feel, continues to shine, guiding us, comforting us, and empowering us to live lives that honor their memory and contribute to the world. May this intention infuse our practice with depth, gentleness, and a profound sense of enduring connection.

Practice

This practice invites you to engage with the profound duality presented in the text, to explore the interplay between presence and absence, and to find meaning in the enduring threads of connection. We will engage in a micro-practice designed to be both personal and deeply resonant, offering a tangible way to embody our kavvanah. Please choose one of the following options, or allow one to call to you intuitively. Each practice is designed to take approximately 15 minutes.

Option 1: The Resonant Flame

This practice centers on the symbolic power of light and its ability to illuminate both the seen and the unseen.

### The Ritual of Illumination

Materials:

• A candle (a simple white or beeswax candle is ideal, but use what feels right)
• A safe surface to place the candle
• A quiet space where you will not be disturbed

The Practice:

1. Preparation (2 minutes): Find your quiet space. Take a few deep breaths, exhaling slowly. Allow your shoulders to soften and your body to settle. Bring to mind the person you are remembering today. Do not force the memory, but allow their presence to gently emerge.

2. Lighting the Candle (3 minutes): With intention, light the candle. As the flame flickers to life, consider the words from the text: "G–d has made one thing opposite the other." Think about how this duality exists in your experience of remembering this person. Perhaps the warmth of the flame mirrors the warmth of their presence, while the shadows cast by the flame represent the space they have left. As you gaze at the flame, acknowledge both the light and the shadow. Speak softly, or think the following intention: "May this flame illuminate the enduring presence of [Name], and honor the space that remains."

3. The Dialogue of Light and Shadow (5 minutes):

   • Focus on the Light: Gaze into the flame. What qualities of this person does the light evoke? Is it their warmth, their brilliance, their guiding nature? Allow these qualities to fill your awareness. Think of their positive attributes, their strengths, the light they brought into the world. Perhaps they were a source of wisdom, joy, or unwavering support. Connect this light to the concept of the divine soul and its holy sefirot mentioned in the text. This is the "side of holiness" they embodied.
   • Focus on the Shadows: Now, gently shift your gaze to the shadows cast by the flame. What do these shadows represent in your grief? Is it the pain of absence, the moments of loneliness, the unanswered questions? Acknowledge these feelings without judgment. The text speaks of "impure garments" and the "other side." These shadows can represent the difficult emotions that arise in grief, the moments when we feel disconnected or when the "vanity and striving after the wind" of everyday life can feel overwhelming. Recognize that these are also part of the human experience, and that even these experiences can be held within the larger framework of divine presence. The text notes that even the "other side" derives its existence from a divine source; similarly, even the difficult emotions of grief exist within the larger tapestry of your life and the enduring connection you share.

4. The Legacy Within (3 minutes): As the candle burns, consider how the light and shadow of your loved one’s memory have shaped you. The text speaks of how the "intellect begetting them" influences the middot. How has your loved one's intellect, their way of thinking, their core values, influenced your own understanding of the world and your own character? How have their actions and their being become a part of your own "impure garments" – not in a negative sense, but as the ingrained habits, perspectives, and ways of being that they have passed on to you? These are the enduring legacies. They are not external, but internalized, becoming part of the very fabric of your being. You are, in a very real sense, a continuation of their light.

5. Extinguishing the Flame (2 minutes): When you feel ready, gently extinguish the candle. As the flame goes out, take a moment to acknowledge the transition. The physical flame may be gone, but the light of their memory and the lessons they imparted continue to reside within you. You might say, "The flame is extinguished, but the light within me endures." Take a final deep breath and offer a silent word of gratitude for the presence and legacy of the one you remember.

Option 2: The Echoing Name

This practice focuses on the power of a name – a sound that carries an entire universe of meaning, memory, and identity.

### The Whispers of Being

Materials:

• A quiet space where you will not be disturbed
• A small notebook and pen or pencil (optional)

The Practice:

1. Preparation (2 minutes): Find your quiet space. Take a few deep breaths, allowing yourself to settle. Bring to mind the person you are remembering today. Do not force the memory, but allow their presence to gently emerge.

2. Whispering the Name (3 minutes): Gently, softly, begin to whisper the full name of the person you are remembering. Repeat their name, allowing the sound to resonate within you. As you whisper their name, consider the text's assertion that "G–d has made one thing opposite the other." How does the sound of their name evoke both presence and absence? The sound itself is a physical manifestation, a vibration in the air, yet it also points to a person who is no longer physically present. Allow this duality to wash over you. You might whisper: "[Name], you are remembered. Your name echoes."

3. The Ten "Crowns" and Their Echo (5 minutes): The text speaks of ten "crowns of impurity" on the one hand, and ten holy sefirot on the other, representing different facets of existence. While our loved one may have had their struggles and imperfections (akin to the "other side"), their essence, their core being, was a reflection of holiness.

   • Focus on the Holy Echo: Think of ten positive qualities or aspects of your loved one. These could be virtues, talents, personality traits, or moments of grace. For example: Kindness, humor, wisdom, strength, creativity, compassion, resilience, generosity, patience, love. Whisper each quality after their name. For instance: "[Name], kindness. [Name], humor. [Name], wisdom." These are the echoes of their holy sefirot, the divine aspects that shone through them.
   • Acknowledge the Human Echo: Now, with gentleness and without judgment, consider if there were aspects of their personality or life that were challenging, perhaps even difficult (the "other side" aspects mentioned in the text). These are not to be dwelled upon with negativity, but acknowledged as part of their complex humanity. You might reflect on how these aspects, even in their difficulty, might have taught you something, or how they were also part of the human struggle that connects us all. The text notes that even the "other side" has vitality; so too, the challenging aspects of a person's life were part of their lived reality. You might briefly acknowledge this complexity, perhaps by a silent nod or a soft sigh, understanding that their full being, both light and shadow, is what made them unique.

4. The Legacy of Words and Deeds (3 minutes): The text discusses how thoughts, speech, and actions become "impure garments" for unclean categories, or "holy garments" when directed towards G–d. How did your loved one's words and deeds influence you?

   • Words: Recall a piece of advice, a comforting phrase, a funny anecdote, or a profound statement your loved one shared. Write it down if you wish. Let the echo of their words resonate within you. How did their speech, when directed towards you, uplift or guide you? This is the "side of holiness" manifest in their communication.
   • Deeds: Think of a specific action they took that demonstrated their character or values. Perhaps it was an act of kindness, a moment of courage, or a demonstration of their passion. How did their deeds, when directed towards the world or towards you, leave a lasting impact? This is the "side of holiness" manifest in their actions. These are the "holy garments" of their essence.

5. The Continuing Name (2 minutes): As you conclude, take a final deep breath, holding their name and the echoes of their being within you. The physical sound of their name may fade, but the essence it represents continues. You might say, "Your name lives on in my heart, in my actions, and in the world you touched." If you noted anything down, you can gently close your notebook. If not, simply hold the reflections within you. Offer a silent word of gratitude for the enduring presence of the one you remember.

Option 3: The Thread of Tzedakah

This practice connects remembrance with ongoing positive action, transforming grief into a force for good in the world.

### The Gift of Continuity

Materials:

• A quiet space where you will not be disturbed
• A small amount of money (coins or bills) that you are willing to give as tzedakah (charity)
• A place to place the money (a small box, a purse, or a designated spot)

The Practice:

1. Preparation (2 minutes): Find your quiet space. Take a few deep breaths, allowing yourself to settle. Bring to mind the person you are remembering today. Do not force the memory, but allow their presence to gently emerge.

2. Holding the Tzedakah (3 minutes): Hold the money in your hands. Consider the text's concept of dual realities, of holiness and the "other side," and how "G–d has made one thing opposite the other." This money, in itself, is neutral. It can be used for any purpose. Our intention is to imbue it with the "side of holiness," to direct its potential for good. As you hold the money, think about the person you are remembering. What were their values? What causes did they care about? What kind of impact did they wish to have on the world?

3. The Spirit of Generosity (5 minutes): The text speaks of the divine soul being clothed in "three holy garments" of thought, speech, and deed, and how all actions not directed towards G–d are "vanity." Tzedakah, the act of giving charity, is a powerful way to direct our deeds towards holiness and to honor the spirit of our loved ones.

   • Connecting to Their Values: Reflect on the values of the person you are remembering. If they were passionate about education, consider a donation to a school. If they championed social justice, think of an organization working in that area. If they simply embodied kindness, choose a cause that alleviates suffering. This act of giving is a way of continuing their positive influence in the world. This is the "side of holiness" manifesting through their remembered values.
   • Transforming "Other Side" Energies: The text mentions the "other side" and how even difficult aspects of life exist. Sometimes, grief can feel like a heavy, negative energy. By engaging in tzedakah, we are taking that energy, that sense of loss, and transforming it into a positive force. We are not denying the pain, but channeling it into an act of creation and compassion. This is a way of using our current experience, even the difficult parts, to bring goodness into the world, thus aligning ourselves with the "side of holiness."

4. The Deed of Remembrance (3 minutes): Now, with intention, place the money into your designated spot for tzedakah. As you do this, speak softly, or think the following: "In memory of [Name], and in honor of their spirit, I offer this tzedakah. May this act of giving bring goodness into the world, continuing the light they brought." This deed is a tangible expression of their legacy, a way of ensuring that their positive impact continues to ripple outwards. It is the "holy garment" of action, dedicated to a purpose beyond oneself.

5. The Ongoing Ripple (2 minutes): Take a final deep breath, allowing the feeling of purposeful action to settle within you. The physical act of giving is complete, but the impact of their remembered spirit, channeled through your generosity, continues. You might say, "Your legacy of goodness continues through this act, and through me." Offer a silent word of gratitude for the opportunity to honor their memory in this meaningful way.

Community

In moments of remembrance, the experience of grief can feel intensely personal, a landscape navigated solely within one's own heart. Yet, the wisdom reminds us that even solitary engagement with sacred pursuits can be a source of divine presence, and that gatherings of ten can also draw that presence. This suggests that while our individual journeys are vital, there is also profound strength and meaning to be found in shared remembrance.

### Shared Echoes, Strengthened Light

The Practice:

1. Connecting with a Circle (15 minutes): Consider reaching out to one or two individuals who also hold a connection to the person you are remembering. This could be a family member, a close friend, or anyone who shared a significant bond. You don't need to plan an elaborate event; a simple phone call, a video chat, or even a shared email can be a powerful way to connect.

2. The Invitation to Echo: When you connect, you might gently share that you are engaging in a practice of remembrance today, inspired by the idea that "G–d has made one thing opposite the other" and how this duality plays out in our experience of loss and enduring love. You can invite them to share a brief echo of the person you both remember.

   • Focus on a Single Quality or Memory: To keep the practice focused and manageable within a short timeframe, you might suggest each person share one brief memory or one quality they cherished about the person. For example: "I was thinking today about [Name]'s incredible sense of humor. Does anyone remember that time when...?" or "What I'll always remember about [Name] is their unwavering kindness. It made such a difference."
   • The Power of Shared Words: As each person shares, listen deeply. Hear the echoes of your own memories and feelings reflected in their words. Recognize that even though each individual experience of grief is unique, the shared memories and cherished qualities create a collective resonance. This collective remembrance strengthens the "light" of their presence, pushing back against the "shadows" of absence.
   • Acknowledging the Shared Space: If the conversation naturally leads to it, you can briefly acknowledge the text's idea that "On every gathering of ten [Jews] the Shechinah rests." While this is a specific Jewish concept, the underlying principle of shared intention and connection fostering a sacred space can be universally understood. You can express that by coming together, even in this small way, you are creating a space where the memory and spirit of [Name] can be honored and felt more fully.

3. The Gift of Witnessing: Simply being witnessed in your grief and remembrance by others who understand can be incredibly healing. Your sharing allows them to connect with their own memories, and their sharing allows you to feel less alone. This act of mutual witnessing is a form of communal support, acknowledging that while we each carry our own unique experience of loss, we are not isolated in our journey.

4. A Gentle Takeaway: This community practice is not about erasing individual grief, but about weaving individual threads into a stronger, more resilient tapestry of remembrance. It is a reminder that the love and legacy of those we miss continue to connect us, not only to them but also to each other.

Takeaway

As we conclude this time of reflection and practice, we carry with us a deeper understanding of how presence and absence, light and shadow, are intrinsically interwoven in the fabric of our lives. The wisdom we explored reminds us that even in the experience of loss, there is a profound continuity, a vital connection that endures. We are invited to see that the "other side," the challenges and sorrows we encounter, do not negate the enduring light of holiness, but are, in fact, held within a larger, divine order.

Our practice has offered tangible ways to engage with this duality: by illuminating the enduring presence of our loved ones through the gentle flicker of a flame, by resonating with the echoes of their names and qualities, and by channeling our grief into acts of tzedakah that continue their legacy of goodness. Furthermore, by reaching out to others, we have experienced the strength and comfort found in shared remembrance, transforming individual journeys into a collective testament to love.

The takeaway is not to deny the pain of absence, but to cultivate a hopeful engagement with the enduring presence that remains. It is to recognize that the "impure garments" of our thoughts, words, and deeds can be consciously re-directed towards holiness through intentional acts of remembrance, gratitude, and continued connection. The light of those we have loved may sometimes feel diminished, like a distant star, yet it continues to guide us, to warm us, and to be a vital part of our own existence. May we continue to nurture this enduring connection, finding meaning, solace, and strength in the ongoing legacy of those who have shaped us.