Leaning on the wind...

"What have I become, my sweetest friend..?"
- Hurt, by Trent Reznor (Nine Inch Nails)

One of the questions I wrestle with constantly is this: "How do I reconcile my Judaism with the magical practices I learned in the past?" It's a valid but difficult question, and to be fair, my position is subject to change at any time. First, to understand the pressures that are involved, you need a bit of background. I left home at 18 and stayed with friends for several years. These people were like my family (some still are, some aren't) and one of the things we all had in common was an interest in the occult.

Unlike some of my friends who were mainly into the flashy or shocking aspects of magic, I tended to keep my scope broad enough to look at religions and the magical practices they had assimilated also. This lead me to study the Kabbalah. I had a reasonably good amount of knowledge regarding the Tanakh due to my Christian background and my thought was that I could utilize that in order to add depth to my practice. I floundered in my magical practices as the addictive nature of the drugs took hold, but managed to maintain various types of practice throughout. In fact my practices at that time may have been what kept me from going even further than I did. I saw many strange things that I won't go into at this time. Needless to say, I do not always know what to make of these things, but nevertheless, to deny them would be madness.

Once I was in recovery, I maintained my practice and began making contact with other people. I found my friend Loan, and he really helped me through the initial stages of recovery. We dreamed up the Kadmon Project together, and that's one of the major motivations for me in keeping the project going.

Before Loan died, I had a series of dreams involving a pair of Rabbis, a hidden cupboard filled with scrolls, and the ashes of the Parah Adumah (Red Heifer). Afterwards I investigated my local synagogue, and discovered that I really felt at home with the people there. As I've continued to learn about Judaism, even now that I am a convert, I came to realize that there are many factions within the religion as a whole, and that Reform Jews (the branch I converted into) in particular have not been particularly friendly toward mysticism. So this left me with a dilemma: Do I abandon what I've seen, what I know to be true, so that I can fit in? or do I risk expulsion from my community which could affect not only my future, but that of my children as well?

Instead of bowing to this dichotomy, I chose to find a hybrid solution. First, I don't do divination or any sort of statuary. Those are big ones. I don't talk to any other deities - I choose to only recognize Adonai Echad - whether others exist or not. However, I have kept the Kadmon Group going to maintain a connection to others who don't practice as I do. Where rituals overlap, I default to Judaism. Where there isn't a solution in Judaism, I make my own and share it with the group.

There are other areas where the two paths complement each other. For instance, by taking a Kabbalistic concept and turning it into a Kadmon practice, I have to take it apart and put it back together. So while the Kadmon practice may not be exactly the same, I've learned from it, and I've had the opportunity to teach it to others.

However, it finally comes down to this: When I was seriously practicing magic, I relied almost solely on my intuition. I relied on it to the point of trusting myself in life and death situations to its whim. It was like learning to lean on the wind - no one could say if I would fall or stand. As I have come to terms with the idea of God, I've learned that the wind I was leaning on, the hand that kept me from falling was God (Ruach HaKodesh). It is in all of the magical practices I learned, and it is the principles of Kadmon and Kabbalah both.

It is the essence of faith to put all of your heart into living, and then when you have nothing else to give, fall in the direction of the finish line, and know that you will not fall. While I recognize even still that this balancing act is precarious, I also know that this edge is where I am called to be. There is nowhere else to go.

"Because your candle burns too bright
Well, I almost forgot it was twilight
Even if I think that you are right
Well, I'm tired of being down, I got no fight"

- Twilight, by Elliot Smith

Excellent article...

...entitled "Botany and Kabbalah in the Samarkand carpets"

Zohar

This is a good chunk of the Zohar separated by portions or complete (warning: 140 mb file), whichever you prefer. It has the Aramaic and the English translation side by side which I particularly like.

Chevrut

"Rabbi Yehoshua Ben Perachya says, 'Make for yourself a teacher and acquire for yourself a friend, and judge each person favorably.'"

I had intended to read through Pirkei Avot, but I was side-tracked by this gem. I've struggled for a long time, trying to find a way to explain how Loan (my late best friend) and I related to each other. Understandably, others found him difficult to get along with. For me, this process happened in reverse order of the above quote, but it really illustrates the value of having a chevrutah (friend, but also a study partner).

When I was first getting sober, in 2001, I had little hope of finding anyone to interact with online. Occasionally I found people who would provide interesting discussions regarding Kabbalah on Yahoo Clubs, but even then, I was still learning the terminology in an experiential way. I discovered Usenet around the same time as the 9/11 disaster. I read without posting for several months. After a while Loan and I had a fairly long discussion, and I began emailing him personally. One of the things that struck me about him was the fact that he was always sure of his explanation, immersing himself completely in the explanation, with no reservation and without regard for what others might think. I'm reminded of the scene in "The Last Samurai" in which Tom Cruise's character is told, "Too many mind" because he is minding the crowd and how people are looking at him. Finally the friendly advice concludes, "No mind." Loan was more than capable of this in regards to his Work.

This is not to say that befriending him was easy. I knew there were areas I disagreed with him in, but was willing to put minor things aside, because I had favorably judged him. It was an aesthetic choice, I think. He espoused certain principles, and despite the fact that he often changed his position on certain issues, he remained true to his principles to the end. For the sake of those principles, I decided that he would be my friend, even when he told me time and again that he wasn't a good person and that there could be dire consequences to even talking to him. Like him, I had to remain true to my principles, and seek out the meaning that he represented.

This was the process of acquiring a friend, in this case. I sought out his meaning in a thousand ways, by speaking to him, conversing on topics ranging from politics to the weather to family life. He told me of his ideas of Messiah and his dreams. Sometimes I would listen literally. Other times I would listen as though his prescriptions were an inner guide to healing the man himself. I listened as to a prophet that knows not his own meaning. In the traditional model, a chevrutah studies Torah with you, but in this case, I studied my chevrutah and myself thereby learning of the living Torah that fills the worlds with Kavod.

Finally the day came, and I mentioned one of my own insights on a topic. An audible frown accompanied his statement of confusion. I explained again, this time using catchphrases that he himself had used favorably on several occasions. It wasn't entirely different from other things he had said, but it was unfamiliar territory. Recognition dawned and he seemed interested. I let it go for a few weeks. Eventually we got to the point where we were trading ideas back and forth regularly. I had things to teach him as well, and he was happy about it!

He started consulting me for oracles on occasion. This was probably when we both learned from each other the most. He even participated in some of the Kadmon experiments with me. It ended with a Sunday morning when K and I were rushing to get the kids to Religious School. He sounded ill. I asked him if there was anyone there who would take care of him or if he'd gone to see the doctor. He said he'd be okay. I told him I needed to get the kids to Religious School, but I'd call him back that afternoon to make sure he was okay.

I did. He didn't answer.

Huong told me not to beat myself up, because it wasn't my fault, but I've never really stopped blaming myself. I still haven't really sought out another study partner, and I'm honestly not sure how soon I'll actually be okay enough to do that. Through him, I learned that I had something to teach, as well as many things to learn. After getting sober, I didn't think I was worth much, but he showed me that my own nature was good, and that this was a valuable thing in and of itself. I hope that I was able to show him the same.

I think that outside of my own personal saga, this can be a good way to gain rapport with others. By first passing positive judgement upon the person, you assure that no matter what, you will find a way to read their actions as having meaning. Perhaps we should be able to see all people in this way, but it's much easier to start with just one person and work your way outwards from there. By seeking out and acquiring friendship, it keeps the friendship moving towards workable terms, instead of maintaining unsustainable terms, as in dependencies. Most friendships maintain a balance of power, but this seeking keeps things in a balanced yin/yang sort of state, wherein polarities switch back and forth cyclically. By making for yourself a teacher, you can also learn what kind of teacher you are looking for, and thereby become that role. All of these things put together allow us to create the chains of relationship that trace the fiery glyphs and sigils which manifest change in our world.

"To save one person is to save the world." (Mishna, Sanhedren 4:5)