Tanya, Part I; Likkutei Amarim 9:1

Hook

We gather today to hold a space for memory, for the profound echoes of lives that have touched ours, and for the enduring threads of meaning they have woven into the fabric of our own. This is a time to acknowledge the inevitable currents of change and loss that flow through existence, and to meet them with intention, with tenderness, and with a deep respect for the journey of the human heart. The occasion before us is one of remembrance, of confronting the space left behind, and of understanding the intricate tapestry of our inner lives that grief can illuminate. It is a moment to turn inward, to honor the unseen, and to find a quiet strength in the enduring presence of what was and what remains.

We are called to this space by the natural rhythm of remembrance, perhaps on an anniversary, a birthday, or simply when a particular feeling or memory surfaces, drawing us to pause. It might be the quiet ache of absence on a holiday, the sudden vivid recall of a shared laugh, or the lingering scent of a favorite perfume. Whatever the catalyst, this moment is an invitation to engage with the legacy of those we have loved and lost, not as a burden, but as a source of wisdom and connection.

The text we turn to today, from Tanya, Part I, Likkutei Amarim, delves into the very core of our being, exploring the complex interplay of the soul within us. It speaks of two souls, the animal soul and the divine soul, and the internal landscape where their energies meet, conflict, and can, with intention, find harmony. This exploration is particularly resonant when we are navigating grief, for loss often brings these inner dynamics to the forefront. The text offers a framework for understanding the passions, the desires, the anger, and the love that surge within us, and how these energies, rooted in our physical and spiritual being, shape our experience of life and loss.

As we hold the memory of loved ones, we often grapple with the intensity of our emotions. The text's discussion of the heart as the seat of these passions, and the blood as the carrier of life and desire, provides a visceral anchor for our feelings. The anger that can flare, the sorrow that can feel overwhelming, the love that burns so brightly – these are not simply abstract concepts, but energies that reside within us, connected to our very life force. Understanding this internal geography can offer a way to approach our grief not as something to be banished, but as a powerful force to be understood and, perhaps, transformed.

Furthermore, the text’s introduction of the divine soul, residing in the intellect and the heart’s right ventricle, speaks to the deeper, more enduring aspects of our being. This divine spark, connected to wisdom, understanding, and a fervent love for the Divine, offers a counterpoint to the more primal energies of the animal soul. In times of grief, this divine aspect can be the source of resilience, of a quiet knowing that transcends the immediate pain, and of a profound capacity for love that endures.

The notion of a “war” between these two souls over the body and its limbs offers a powerful metaphor for the internal struggles we often face in grief. Do we succumb to despair and anger, or do we strive to channel our energies toward connection, meaning, and a deeper understanding of ourselves and our place in the world? The text suggests that this struggle is not about annihilation, but about prevailing, about transforming the energies of the animal soul, the "evil waters" of desire, into something holy. This is a profound concept for those navigating loss, as it offers a pathway to integrate even the most difficult emotions into a life of renewed purpose and meaning.

The concept of the body as a "small city" where these two souls wage war for dominion is a vivid image. In grief, our physical selves can feel like battlegrounds. We may experience exhaustion, a loss of appetite, or an overwhelming need for comfort. The text reminds us that these physical manifestations are connected to the deeper spiritual energies at play within us. Understanding this connection can help us be more compassionate with ourselves, recognizing that our physical experience is intertwined with our emotional and spiritual landscape.

The Tanya's description of the divine soul's desire to rule, to have all limbs obey her and become a vehicle for her divine purpose, speaks to our innate yearning for wholeness and transcendence. Even in the depths of grief, there can be a quiet whisper of this divine will, a longing to find meaning and to connect with something larger than ourselves. This text offers a lens through which to view that longing, not as a rejection of our pain, but as an affirmation of our deepest spiritual nature.

The idea that the divine soul can "subdue the sitra achara with its element of the 'evil waters,' namely, the lust stemming from kelipat nogah, changing it and transforming it from seeking the pleasures of this world to the love of G–d" is particularly potent. It suggests that the very energies that can pull us down can, with intention and spiritual effort, be reframed and redirected. In grief, this might mean transforming the consuming desire for what was lost into a profound appreciation for the love that was shared, or channeling the anger at injustice into a commitment to creating a more compassionate world.

This text, therefore, is not merely an abstract theological discourse. It is a profound exploration of the human condition, particularly relevant to the intricate and often turbulent landscape of grief. It offers a framework for understanding our internal world, for recognizing the powerful energies at play within us, and for finding a path toward integration and transformation. As we embark on this deep dive into remembrance and meaning, let us hold these concepts gently, allowing them to illuminate our own experiences and guide us toward a place of enduring connection and profound understanding.

Text Snapshot

From Tanya, Part I, Likkutei Amarim 9:1:

“The abode of the animal soul ( nefesh habahamit ), derived from the kelipat nogah in every Jew, is in the heart, in the left ventricle that is filled with blood. It is written, “For the blood is the nefesh.” Hence all lusts and boasting and anger and similar passions are in the heart, and from the heart they spread throughout the whole body, rising also to the brain in the head, so as to think and meditate about them and become cunning in them. But the abode of the divine soul is in the brains that are in the head, and from there it extends to all the limbs; and also in the heart, in the right ventricle wherein there is no blood, as is written, “The heart of the wise man is on his right.” It is [the source of] man’s fervent love toward G–d which, like flaming coals, flares up in the heart of discerning men who understand and reflect, with the [faculty of] knowledge of their brain, on matters that arouse this love.”

This passage introduces the profound concept of two souls within each individual: the animal soul, rooted in our physical desires and passions, and the divine soul, connected to intellect, wisdom, and a higher love. It describes the physical locations of these souls – the animal soul in the blood-filled left ventricle of the heart, and the divine soul in the brain and the bloodless right ventricle. The text then begins to illustrate the internal struggle between these two forces, likening it to a war between two kings over a city, where each soul seeks to dominate the body and its limbs according to its own will. This internal conflict is central to understanding our experience of life's challenges, including the profound emotions that arise in grief.

Kavvanah

A Guided Meditation for Inner Landscape and Enduring Love

Today, as we hold the memory of those we have loved and lost, we turn our attention inward, to the landscape of our own souls. The text from Tanya invites us to consider the intricate dance of energies within us, the interplay of the animal soul and the divine soul, and how this internal dynamic shapes our experience of life, and especially, of grief. Let us enter this space with gentleness, curiosity, and a deep wellspring of self-compassion.

Begin by finding a comfortable position, seated or lying down. Allow your body to settle, releasing any immediate tension you may be holding. Close your eyes softly, or soften your gaze. Take a few slow, deep breaths, inhaling peace and exhaling any worries or distractions. Feel the gentle rhythm of your breath, a constant anchor in this present moment.

Now, let us turn our awareness to the physical sensations within us. The text speaks of the heart as the abode of the animal soul, the seat of our passions, our desires, our anger, and our love. Place a gentle hand over your heart, or simply bring your awareness to this center of your being. Feel the gentle thrumming beneath your fingertips, the steady beat that signifies life. This heart, the text tells us, is filled with blood, the very essence of our life force, carrying our impulses and our deepest emotions.

As you breathe, acknowledge the presence of your animal soul. This is the part of you that experiences the raw intensity of grief – the ache of longing, the frustration, the moments of profound sadness, perhaps even anger at the unfairness of loss. It is the part of you that feels the physical weight of absence, the emptiness in your chest, the tears that well up. There is no judgment here. This is a vital part of your being, the engine of your earthly experience, the wellspring of your capacity for deep feeling. Allow yourself to acknowledge these feelings without trying to change them, without pushing them away. They are here, and they are valid. Perhaps you can even offer a silent word of gratitude to this part of yourself for its ability to feel so deeply, for the love that fuels such profound sorrow.

Now, let us shift our focus, gently, to the realm of the divine soul. The text places its abode in the "brains that are in the head" and in the "right ventricle wherein there is no blood." This is the space of intellect, of wisdom, of understanding, and of a higher, more enduring love. Bring your awareness to your head, to the space where your thoughts reside. Feel the quiet hum of your mind, the capacity for reflection and insight. This is the domain of your divine soul, the part of you that can perceive, that can contemplate, that can find meaning even amidst chaos.

Imagine, if you will, a cool, clear space within your head, a place where wisdom resides. From this space, let your awareness descend, gently, to the right side of your chest, to the area the text describes as the "right ventricle." Picture this space as a place of stillness, of clarity, a wellspring of pure potential, untouched by the turbulent currents of the physical blood. This is where the fervent love toward G–d, the love of G–d that can flare like "flaming coals," is said to reside. This is the source of your enduring connection, the part of you that remembers love, that understands that love transcends physical presence.

The text speaks of a "war" between these two souls. In grief, this war can feel very real. The animal soul might pull us toward despair, toward a narrative of permanent loss. The divine soul, however, yearns for connection, for understanding, for the recognition of enduring love. Our kavvanah today is to become aware of this internal dialogue, not to resolve it immediately, but to witness it with compassion.

Our intention, our kavvanah, is to cultivate a conscious awareness of the interplay between our passionate, earthly emotions and our enduring, divine wisdom. We seek to acknowledge the presence and validity of all our feelings, while also attuning ourselves to the quiet strength and enduring love that resides within our deeper selves. We intend to approach our grief not as a battle to be won or lost, but as a complex inner landscape to be explored with gentleness, allowing the wisdom of our divine soul to guide us toward integration and a profound, lasting connection with the love that remains.

Now, consider this internal landscape. Where do you feel the pull of your animal soul most strongly today? Is it in the tightness of your chest, the restlessness of your limbs, the racing thoughts of your mind? Acknowledge these feelings without judgment. See them as expressions of your deep capacity for love and connection that have been disrupted by loss.

Where do you sense the presence of your divine soul? Perhaps it is in a moment of unexpected clarity, a flicker of hope, a deep well of peace that seems to exist alongside the sorrow. It might be in the memory of a loved one's wisdom, a moment of profound insight, or a quiet, unwavering sense of love that persists.

The text offers a vision of transformation: the divine soul prevailing, subduing the "evil waters" of desire and transforming them into love for G–d. This is not about eradicating the pain, but about re-channeling the energy of our experience. In grief, this might mean transforming the raw pain of absence into a profound appreciation for the time we shared, or channeling the anger at loss into a commitment to living a life that honors the values of the one who has passed. It is about allowing the divine spark within us to illuminate even the darkest corners of our sorrow.

Take a moment now to breathe into this intention. Feel the gentle expansion of your chest with each inhale, and with each exhale, release any resistance to the complexity of your inner world. Allow yourself to be present with both the passion of your grief and the quiet strength of your divine soul. This is not a quick fix, but a deep practice of self-awareness and self-compassion. It is about holding the entirety of your experience – the pain, the love, the longing, the wisdom – with an open and accepting heart.

As you continue to breathe, let the words of the text resonate within you. The "war" is not an external enemy to be vanquished, but an internal dynamic to be understood and, perhaps, harmonized. The "victory" lies not in erasing emotions, but in integrating them, in allowing the divine soul's wisdom and love to guide the energies of the animal soul toward a deeper connection with life, with love, and with the enduring presence of those we hold dear.

Our deeper intention is to recognize that even in the depths of grief, our divine soul remains a source of light and resilience. We commit to nurturing this inner wisdom, allowing it to guide us as we navigate the terrain of our sorrow. We seek to transform the raw energy of our loss into a testament to the enduring power of love and the profound meaning that continues to shape our lives. We are not alone in this internal landscape; our divine soul is always with us, a beacon of hope and enduring connection.

As you prepare to transition from this meditative space, carry this intention with you. Allow it to inform your practice, your connection with others, and your ongoing journey of remembrance and meaning-making. Remember that this inner landscape is vast and ever-evolving. Be patient with yourself, be kind to yourself, and trust in the enduring presence of love that connects us all.

Practice

Rituals of Remembrance and Inner Connection

The journey of grief and remembrance is deeply personal, and the practices we choose to engage with can offer solace, connection, and a pathway to meaning. The text from Tanya, with its exploration of the inner landscape of our souls, invites us to consider rituals that honor both the intensity of our earthly emotions and the enduring light of our divine spirit. Here are a few micro-practices, each designed to be accessible and meaningful, allowing you to engage with memory and meaning in a way that resonates with you.

### Practice Option 1: The Candle of Lingering Light

This practice is inspired by the text's imagery of "flaming coals" and the enduring light of the divine soul. It offers a simple yet profound way to acknowledge the presence of your loved one and the light they brought into your life.

Materials:

• A candle (a simple white or unscented candle is often best, but choose one that feels right to you)
• A safe, non-flammable surface to place the candle
• A match or lighter

Instructions:

1. Find a Quiet Space: Choose a place where you can be undisturbed for a few minutes. This could be a quiet corner of your home, a peaceful spot outdoors, or even at your desk.
2. Light the Candle: With intention, strike the match or lighter and bring the flame to the wick of the candle. As the flame ignites, see it as a representation of the enduring life force, the spirit, and the love of the person you are remembering.
3. Hold Your Intention: As the candle burns, place your hand gently over your heart or cup it around the flame (being careful not to touch it). Close your eyes or soften your gaze towards the flame. Recall the person you are remembering. Bring to mind a specific memory, a quality you admired, or a feeling of their presence.
4. Connect with the Text: Reflect on the Tanya's description of the divine soul and its "fervent love toward G–d which, like flaming coals, flares up in the heart." Consider how the light of your loved one’s life continues to illuminate your own heart, even in their absence. You might whisper a silent affirmation such as: "Your light continues to burn within me." or "The love we shared is a flame that will not be extinguished."
5. Observe the Flame: Watch the flame flicker and dance. See in its movement the ongoing nature of life and spirit. Allow yourself to feel the warmth and the presence it represents.
6. Extinguish with Grace: When you are ready, gently blow out the candle. As you do so, you might say, "May your memory be a blessing," or offer a personal farewell. You can then let the candle burn down completely at a later time if you wish, or keep it as a reminder of this practice.

Why this practice is helpful: This practice leverages the tangible symbol of a flame to represent the intangible essence of a loved one and the enduring nature of love. It connects the physical act of lighting a candle with the inner experience of remembrance and the spiritual concepts presented in the Tanya, such as the "flaming coals" of divine love. It offers a moment of focused attention, allowing for a deep connection with memory without the pressure of elaborate ritual.

### Practice Option 2: The Resonance of a Name

The Tanya speaks of the soul's deep connection to the individual. Naming a loved one is a powerful act of remembrance that brings their essence back into the present moment. This practice uses the simple yet profound act of speaking their name to evoke their presence and to explore the echoes they left behind.

Materials:

• A comfortable, quiet space
• Optional: A small object that belonged to the person you are remembering, or a photograph

Instructions:

1. Settle In: Find a comfortable seated position. Take a few deep breaths to center yourself. If you have a photograph or a small personal item, you may place it before you.
2. Speak the Name: Gently, and with full intention, speak the full name of the person you are remembering. Say it aloud, clearly and deliberately. Pause after saying their name.
3. Listen to the Echo: As you pause, listen for the resonance of their name within you. What memories, feelings, or sensations arise? The Tanya speaks of the "abode of the divine soul" in the brain and heart. As you hear their name, consider how their spirit, their wisdom, their love, resides within you.
4. Connect with the Text: Reflect on the idea of the "two souls" and the "war" over the body and its limbs. How does the memory of this person influence the "war" within you? Does their name bring a sense of peace, of clarity, of renewed purpose? Or does it stir up a particular emotion? Allow whatever arises to be present. Perhaps their name reminds you of their strength, their kindness, their unique way of navigating their own inner landscape.
5. Explore the Legacy: Consider what qualities or lessons they embodied. The Tanya speaks of the divine soul's desire to permeate the body with its wisdom and love. How has the essence of the person you remember permeated your life? What aspects of their "divine soul" have you inherited or learned from? You might say aloud, "Your [specific quality, e.g., resilience, joy, wisdom] lives on in me."
6. Conclude with Gratitude: After a few moments of silent reflection, offer a simple statement of gratitude. This could be: "Thank you for the gift of your presence in my life," or "I am grateful for the lessons you taught me."

Why this practice is helpful: This practice grounds the abstract concept of remembrance in the concrete act of speaking a name. It invites a direct connection with the memory of the individual and encourages introspection about their lasting impact. By linking the name to the internal landscape described in the Tanya, it helps to integrate the emotional and spiritual dimensions of grief, recognizing that the essence of a loved one can continue to influence our inner "city."

### Practice Option 3: A Story of Transformation

The Tanya suggests that the energies of the animal soul, even those rooted in "lust" and "evil waters," can be transformed by the divine soul. This practice invites you to explore a story from your loved one's life, or a story about their impact on you, that exemplifies transformation, resilience, or the enduring power of love in the face of challenges.

Materials:

• A journal or notebook
• A pen

Instructions:

1. Choose Your Story: Think of a story related to the person you are remembering. This could be:
   • A time they overcame a significant challenge.
   • A moment when they demonstrated profound kindness or compassion.
   • A story about their passions or pursuits.
   • A memory of how they helped you transform or grow.
   • A story that highlights their unique spirit.
2. Begin Writing: Find a quiet space and take a few moments to settle your mind. Begin to write the story. Don't worry about perfection; focus on capturing the essence of the narrative.
3. Connect with the Tanya's Concepts: As you write, consider how your story might relate to the Tanya's ideas.
   • The Animal Soul: Were there elements of struggle, desire, or challenge in the story? These could represent the "animal soul" at play.
   • The Divine Soul: How did wisdom, love, resilience, or a higher purpose manifest? This can be seen as the influence of the "divine soul."
   • Transformation: Did the story involve a shift, a change, a overcoming? This speaks to the potential for transformation that the Tanya describes, where the "evil waters" can be converted into good.
   • "With all your heart": Did the person embody this concept in their actions or their being? How did they approach life with their whole being?
4. Reflect on the Meaning: After writing the story, take some time to reflect on its deeper meaning. What lessons does it hold for you today? How does it illuminate the enduring legacy of the person you remember? You might ask yourself:
   • "What did this story teach me about resilience?"
   • "How did their actions reflect a deeper love or wisdom?"
   • "In what ways can I carry this spirit of transformation into my own life?"
5. Write a Concluding Thought: End your writing with a concluding thought that summarizes the essence of the story and its significance to you. This could be a statement of gratitude, a commitment to living out a particular lesson, or a reaffirmation of their enduring presence in your life. For example: "Your story reminds me that even in the face of adversity, love and perseverance can lead to transformation."

Why this practice is helpful: This practice encourages active engagement with memory through storytelling and written reflection. It provides a concrete way to explore the themes of transformation and enduring spirit presented in the Tanya, applying them to the lived experiences of your loved one. By articulating these stories, you are not only preserving their memory but also extracting the wisdom and meaning that can inform your own life, particularly in navigating the complexities of grief.

### Practice Option 4: Tzedakah in Their Name

The concept of tzedakah (righteous giving, charity) is deeply embedded in Jewish tradition as a way to express compassion, make amends, and create positive impact in the world. The Tanya speaks of the divine soul's desire to permeate the world with holiness through actions. This practice connects your remembrance to tangible acts of kindness, transforming the energy of grief into positive action in the world, in honor of your loved one.

Materials:

• A chosen cause or organization that resonates with your loved one's values or interests.
• A method for making a donation (online, check, etc.)
• Optional: A small card or note to accompany the donation or to keep for yourself.

Instructions:

1. Identify a Cause: Reflect on the person you are remembering. What were their values? What causes were they passionate about? What did they believe in? Choose a charitable cause, organization, or initiative that aligns with their spirit. This could be anything from environmental protection to supporting the arts, to helping those in need, to advocating for social justice.
2. Connect with the Tanya's Vision: Consider the Tanya's vision of the divine soul permeating the world with good deeds. Think of your donation as an extension of your loved one's positive influence, a way for their spirit of kindness and compassion to continue to manifest in the world. You might reflect on the idea that "the entire body should be permeated with them alone, to the exclusion of any alien influence." Your tzedakah is a way to ensure their positive influence continues, unadulterated.
3. Make the Donation: Decide on an amount that feels meaningful and manageable for you. Make the donation to the chosen cause. You can do this online, by sending a check, or through any other method the organization accepts.
4. Dedicate the Act: As you make the donation, silently or aloud, dedicate this act of tzedakah in honor of your loved one. You might say: "I offer this donation in memory of [Loved One's Name], and in honor of their [mention a specific quality, e.g., kindness, generosity, passion for justice]."
5. Write a Note (Optional): If you are sending a physical donation, you may wish to include a small card or note explaining that the donation is in memory of your loved one. This can be a beautiful way to share their legacy with others. Alternatively, you can write this note for yourself as a tangible reminder of your practice.
6. Reflect on the Impact: Take a moment to reflect on the impact of your action. You have taken the energy of your remembrance and transformed it into a positive force in the world, honoring the values and spirit of your loved one. This is a powerful way to keep their legacy alive and to find meaning in your grief.

Why this practice is helpful: This practice connects personal remembrance with collective action and social responsibility, a core tenet of Jewish life. It aligns with the Tanya's emphasis on channeling divine energies into concrete actions that benefit the world. By performing tzedakah in their name, you are not only honoring your loved one but also contributing to the ongoing work of goodness and compassion, embodying the transformative potential of love and memory.

These practices are not meant to replace the natural process of grieving, but to offer gentle companions on your journey. Choose the one that calls to you today, or adapt them to suit your own needs and feelings. Each offers a unique way to engage with memory, meaning, and the enduring presence of love.

Community

Weaving a Tapestry of Shared Remembrance and Support

Grief can often feel isolating, as if we are navigating a vast, uncharted territory alone. Yet, the human experience of loss is also deeply communal. The Tanya's exploration of the two souls within us, and the inherent struggle and potential for connection, can illuminate how we engage with others during times of remembrance and healing. Sharing our memories, our feelings, and our needs can transform individual sorrow into a collective strength, a woven tapestry of support where each thread, though distinct, contributes to the richness of the whole.

### Way to Include Others: Shared Storytelling Circles

One of the most profound ways to honor a loved one and to connect with others is through shared storytelling. The Tanya's focus on the internal landscape and the "war" between souls can be mirrored in our external interactions, where different perspectives and emotional experiences coexist. Creating a space for open sharing can acknowledge the multifaceted nature of grief and allow diverse memories to flourish.

How to implement:

• Gather a Small Group: Invite a few trusted friends, family members, or members of a support group. The group size can be intimate (3-5 people) or slightly larger, depending on the comfort level of the participants.
• Set a Gentle Intention: Begin by explaining the purpose of the gathering. You might say something like:

  "Today, I wanted to create a space where we can come together to remember [Loved One's Name]. The Tanya speaks of the different energies within us, and I believe that sharing our memories, our feelings, and even our struggles, can help us all navigate this journey. My intention is to create a space where we can speak openly, listen deeply, and support each other in honoring [Loved One's Name]'s legacy."

• Offer a Prompt (Optional): To help initiate the sharing, you can offer a gentle prompt. This could be related to the Tanya's concepts or a more general memory prompt:
  • "I'm thinking about how [Loved One's Name] navigated challenges. Can anyone share a story about their resilience or how they faced difficult times?"
  • "The Tanya talks about the 'fervent love' that can flare up in the heart. What is a memory that exemplifies [Loved One's Name]'s deep love or passion for something?"
  • "What is one quality of [Loved One's Name] that you see reflected in yourself or in others?"
  • "Is there a particular 'story of transformation' that comes to mind when you think of [Loved One's Name]?"
• Encourage Active Listening: Emphasize the importance of listening without interruption, judgment, or the need to immediately offer advice. Remind participants that simply being present and bearing witness to another's story is a profound act of support.
• Hold Space for Silence: Allow for pauses and moments of reflection. Grief is not always expressed in words. Sometimes, quiet presence is the most powerful form of connection.
• Closing the Circle: Conclude the gathering with a shared moment of gratitude or a collective affirmation. This could be a simple "Thank you for sharing your memories," or a collective statement like: "We remember [Loved One's Name] with love, and we support each other in this journey."

Why this is helpful: This practice acknowledges that grief is not a solitary experience. By sharing stories, we bring the "two souls" of our community into dialogue. Different people will have experienced the loved one in different ways, and these diverse perspectives enrich our collective memory. The act of listening validates the griever's experience and reminds them they are not alone, countering the potential isolation that grief can bring. It allows for the "transformation" of individual sorrow into shared understanding and communal strength.

### Way to Ask for Support: Articulating Your Inner Landscape

The Tanya's detailed description of the internal "war" between the animal and divine souls provides a rich framework for understanding the complex emotions that arise in grief. When seeking support, articulating this inner landscape can help others understand your experience more deeply and offer more targeted comfort.

How to ask for support:

• Be Specific About Your Feelings: Instead of saying "I'm not okay," try to describe what is happening within you, drawing on the concepts from the Tanya if helpful.
  • Example: "Lately, I feel like my 'animal soul' is in overdrive. I'm experiencing a lot of anger and frustration about [specific situation related to loss], and it feels like it's spreading through my whole body, making it hard to concentrate. I'm struggling to connect with the 'divine soul' part of me right now, the part that usually finds peace or hope."
  • Example: "I'm feeling a profound sense of emptiness, like the 'left ventricle of my heart' is struggling to hold onto life. The blood, the life force, feels depleted. I'm longing for the 'right ventricle' to find its stillness, for a sense of that 'fervent love' the Tanya speaks of, but it feels distant."
• Express Your Need: Clearly state what kind of support would be most helpful.
  • Example: "What I really need right now is for someone to just listen without trying to fix it. I need someone to sit with me in this feeling, to understand that it's a complex internal struggle."
  • Example: "Could you help me find a quiet space, perhaps to light a candle together, or just to sit in silence? I'm trying to connect with the 'divine soul' aspect of my remembrance, and a bit of quiet companionship would be so valuable."
  • Example: "I'm finding it hard to channel my energy into positive action right now. If you know of a cause that aligns with [Loved One's Name]'s values, perhaps we could explore doing something together, like a tzedakah project. I need help transforming this energy."
• Acknowledge the Complexity: You can even acknowledge the multifaceted nature of your experience.
  • Example: "I know I'm not just one thing. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed by my emotions, like the animal soul is winning. Other times, I feel a flicker of wisdom and love from my divine soul, reminding me of what's enduring. It's this constant push and pull, and I'm finding it exhausting."

Why this is helpful: When we articulate our internal experience using language that reflects the complexity of our emotions and spiritual state, we invite a deeper level of understanding from others. This moves beyond superficial expressions of sadness and allows those offering support to respond with greater empathy and insight. It empowers the griever to guide their support network, ensuring they receive the kind of comfort and connection that truly meets their needs, transforming the potential for misunderstanding into a pathway for genuine human connection.

### Way to Offer Support: Bearing Witness and Offering Presence

When someone shares their inner landscape, particularly when they use concepts like those from the Tanya, the most powerful support we can offer is to bear witness to their experience and to offer our unwavering presence. This is not about having all the answers, but about being a calm, steady anchor in their storm.

How to offer support:

• Listen Deeply: When someone shares their feelings, especially if they use terms like "animal soul" or "divine soul," listen with your full attention. Avoid interrupting, judging, or immediately jumping to solutions. Your primary role is to hear them.
• Validate Their Experience: Affirm what they are saying.
  • Example: "That sounds incredibly challenging. It makes sense that you're feeling this internal struggle between your emotions and your desire for peace."
  • Example: "I hear you saying that you're feeling overwhelmed by the 'animal soul' right now, and it's making it hard to access that sense of enduring love. I'm here to sit with you in that."
• Offer Specific, Tangible Presence: Ask how you can be present for them.
  • Example: "What would be most helpful for you right now? Would you like me to just sit with you? Would it be helpful to go for a quiet walk? Or perhaps we could light a candle together?"
  • Example: "I'm not sure I fully understand the intricacies of the 'two souls' concept, but I understand that you are going through a deep internal struggle. I'm here to be present with you, whatever that looks like for you today."
• Reflect Their Language (Gently): If they are using specific terminology, you can gently echo it to show you are trying to understand.
  • Example: "So, it sounds like you're experiencing a real push and pull between the immediate passions and the deeper, more enduring wisdom within you."
• Focus on Enduring Connection: Remind them of the enduring nature of love, aligning with the Tanya's message of the divine soul's persistence.
  • Example: "Even when it feels like the 'war' is intense, remember that the love you shared, and the love that resides within you, is a constant. I am here to remind you of that when you need it."
• Offer Practical Help: If they mention a need for practical help, such as with a tzedakah project, offer to collaborate.
  • Example: "I'd love to help you with that tzedakah project in [Loved One's Name]'s memory. Let's brainstorm together how we can make it happen."

Why this is helpful: This approach honors the individual's internal experience and empowers them to guide the support they receive. By bearing witness and offering presence, you create a safe harbor for their grief, allowing them to explore their inner landscape without judgment. This fosters a deeper, more meaningful connection, reinforcing the idea that even in loss, the threads of community and love remain strong, woven together through shared understanding and empathy.

### Takeaway

The profound insights from Tanya, Part I, Likkutei Amarim 9:1, offer us a powerful lens through which to understand the intricate tapestry of our inner lives, especially during times of grief and remembrance. The concept of the "two souls" – the passionate, earthly animal soul and the wise, enduring divine soul – provides a framework for acknowledging the complex and often conflicting emotions we experience.

Our Kavvanah is to cultivate a gentle awareness of this inner landscape, to hold all our feelings with compassion, and to attune ourselves to the enduring love and wisdom that resides within our divine spirit. This is not about eradicating sorrow, but about integrating it, allowing the light of our inner wisdom to illuminate even the darkest corners of our grief.

The Practices we have explored – the Candle of Lingering Light, the Resonance of a Name, a Story of Transformation, and Tzedakah in Their Name – offer tangible ways to engage with memory, meaning, and the enduring presence of our loved ones. These rituals are invitations to connect with the tangible and the intangible, to transform the energy of our remembrance into acts of kindness and reflections of enduring love.

Finally, our engagement with Community reminds us that grief, while deeply personal, is also a shared human experience. By weaving a tapestry of shared storytelling and by learning to articulate our inner landscapes, we invite deeper understanding and more meaningful support. When offering support, bearing witness and offering unwavering presence are acts of profound connection, reinforcing the enduring strength of love and memory that binds us together.

As we carry these reflections forward, may we find solace in the enduring presence of love, strength in our inner wisdom, and connection in our shared journey of remembrance and meaning-making. May the memory of those we hold dear be a blessing, guiding us toward a life of purpose, compassion, and enduring connection.