Higher Consciousness

A letter written recently to a friend.


Dear xxxx, Shetichye

I was thinking about the conversation that we had today and I decided to show you something that I recently wrote.
By way of introduction let me give a little background information. I am not in the habit of expressing my true feelings, hardship or pain, to the general public. I felt that I sounded decidedly bitter, and I know that you and others may excuse and accept such feelings on my part, but I came to the conclusion a long time ago that acrimony is not something I wish to have on my resume.

When a child takes its first unsteady steps, it is one of the very first signs of that child turning into an independent human being. Independency meaning unique in his own way; those first steps are the first ones taken on a path designed for only him to walk upon.

Each of us has been allotted a path. A course designed to accommodate our strengths and weaknesses, our fears, worries, joys, and pleasures. As we trudge along, we are at times met with branches that must be pushed aside, rivers of water that require swimming skills, fields of tall grass that need to be crossed, and of course at times we are met with a smooth and steady trail, that path that we can only hope and pray will dominate our way.

As we travel through life we are often met with challenge. Challenge is not ever something to be compared. For one, a branch may be as much of a stumbling block as a monstrous mountain for another. Some are given a smooth trip for much of the way, and then met suddenly with a mountain to climb; others are given potholes to dodge and rivers to swim on a regular basis.

I don’t know what I ever did to deserve such a complicated life, but this is what was given to me and I’ve learned that along with the tall grass, the oceans to cross, and the mountains to climb, I was given sheers with which to cut, a life jacket with which to swim, and climbing gear for that looming mountain. I was given these tools, that when not used properly, can be quite a heavy burden, and at the same time have become a key to survival. I was given a strong mind, an iron will, and an unyielding personality. I have been driven with the desire to fight, not to fall. These things have been my wings with which to fly, they are what have kept me going more than anything else in the world.

I have also learned that with hardship and survival comes strength. Why am I telling you all this? Because I don’t think that anyone’s path is free of obstacles. And I feel that maybe, just maybe, if I share some of my thoughts and feelings, others can learn and gain. I know firsthand that it is easier to be objective to someone else than to one’s own self. Therefore I wanted to share with you the following essay.



Higher Consciousness

"The first step to higher consciousness is to be conscious of a consciousness higher than your own.
And to be conscious of how that consciousness is conscious of you."

From the teachings of the Rebbe; rendered by Tzvi Freeman


It has been quite a while since I’ve felt compelled to write. I don’t know what triggered it, but the urge to put feelings on paper has overcome me in way that cannot be ignored.

I often let my mind take advantage of being alone. Something about solitude tends to send my mind a message, simply saying “wander,” and wander it does. Sometimes it travels to the unknown, to wonder what will be “if” - to envision non existent situations, potential joys, or in some cases the opposite.

There are times, though, that my mind looks at me squarely in the face and says “face reality.” Such occurrences generate different reactions: Most often, I look reality right back in the face and say “I can create my own reality, don’t bother me right now.” And I go about my business doing just that- creating my own utopian reality.

There are times where an inner strength, a driving force, takes hold and says “Your life may be nuts, but you aren’t.” This is when I tell myself that although life may be tough, somehow I pulled through until now and can still socialize and communicate with mainstream America. No one has it easy, who can possibly know what goes on behind the closed doors of a home or a heart? Then, somehow with that mysterious strength I accept reality. I remind myself that reality is not something to run from, but something to run with. Nothing that I say or do can change reality, so therefore, I tell myself, it is best to accept and move on.

Sometimes I completely break down emotionally, I feel the tears build up in my heart and travel upward, my mouth quivers and then they begin to silently run down my face. These are moments of total surrender. They are moments when the brunt of hardship and pain sear through my very existence and I, like a helpless child, simply cry.

A thought crossed my mind the other day and I was so fascinated with the discovery that I stopped what I was doing for a minute.

Human nature is to understand. Can one possibly count the times that the word “why” has crossed their lips or entered their minds? Inquisitiveness can lead to great discovery and appreciation. However, with the pleasure of understanding comes the displeasure when the questioning “why” is met with silence. This is a gentle, or maybe not so gentle, reminder to the grand and egotistic intellect. We humans tend to think ourselves superior; not without basis, as Judaism clearly defines Man as a “medaber” on the highest of created levels. The very fact that we can analyze and understand is what gives us our superiority, but it is that same ability that nudges us in the ribs at times, for it is the One who gives us the gift of the mind, that at times takes the power away from us. Therefore, we humans are periodically, for some more often than others, met with challenge. The challenge being to go against our very nature and say “This is something that I just cannot understand.” This was precisely my discovery; the same One who created us with the ability and the urge to understand, created within us the power to rise above, to tell our intellect this is not your territory, and to accept without understanding.
So, when I reach the point of total surrender, I pull myself together and I tell G-d, thank you. Thank you for reminding me that though I may be a human, one who seeks and understands, I am only a human. And hard as it may be, I give up the pleasure of letting myself understand.