How Chassidus Seems to Affect Its Learners

Some time ago I suddenly realized I could indentify those who had studied Chassidus and who hadn't. When I hear people give publicd sermons, I can distinguish with a very high rate of precision. Even when I talk to others personally, I can make this distinction quite accurately.

Since this sudden realization I started asking myself as well as some of my Chabad teachers and rabbis how Chassidus seems to affect its learners. I haven't been able to indentify this seemingly profound effect and its putative components yet in a way I can formulate them rationally and apply this generalization to every new person I encounter. But at least suprarationally I feel the effect - or lack thereof - of Chassidus on its learners without knowing clearly why I know. Every time I asked someone, "You haven't studied Chassidus, have you?", I was right (and he was surprised I knew this.

Instead of continuing to ask myself the above question I occupy myself in the meanwhile with a much easier - but probably more meaningful - question, which is how the study of Chassidus, or to be more precise, Chabad Chassidus, seems to have affected me.

Before being exposed to one of the most important teachings of Chabad Chassidus four and nine months ago and then started learning it formally and privately, I received formal Jewish education in the Talmud at a "Lithuanian" haredi (i.e., non-Chassidic) yeshiva in Jerusalem and Musar in a small group guided by one of its few preachers-cum-practioners. This prior study of what is so different from the teachings of Chassidus has helped me appreciate Chassidus even more.

In parallel with Chabad Chassidus I've also been studying teachings of non-Jewish nonduality from works of masters such as Eckhart Tolle and Adyashanti. So the inner transformation I seem to have undergone may not be solely thanks to my study of Chabad Chassidus.

Probably the most important positive change I can identify in myself in comparison to how I used to be until about five years ago is that I don't identify myself with my thoughts, or to be more precise, thoughts of my ego. I can see them as replacable garments and treat them accordingly. Now I'm fully aware that I used to be fully asleep in that I was deeply trapped in the prison made my ego, which naturally caused countless problems in my interpersonal relationships in my both private and professional lives. In retrospect I can "console" myself by telling myself that those I collided with were mostly no less asleep.

Awareness of a problem is a half solution to the problem. Since I liberated myself from my mind-made prison, at least partially, I started to feel more peace of mind and joy as our natural state as the sun continues to shine even when it's cloudy. It still occurs from time to time that I'm temporarilly hijacked by some negative thought of my ego, but I can generally notice and neutralize it immediately afterwards, thus saving myself and others a lot of unnecessary suffering.

Another, no less important, change is that I have no blind faith any more in our intellect, which seems not to be but a tiny part of our human faculty. With this change came a fundamental shift in my interest. I'm more interested in life wisdom than purely intellectual knowledge, and in suprarationality than rationality (but with an anchor in physicality).

I've been extremly lucky to have been blessed with amazing teachers and rabbis of Chabad Chassidus in these four years and nine months. I've always been able to see living examples of how profound teachings of Chabad Chassidus are - and can or should be - applied to our daily life, especially in our interpersonal relationships.

Baal Shem Tov on Prayer

Perhaps the most difficult practice of Judaism has been prayer for me. What makes prayer so difficult for me is that we are encouraged to daven with intention. Prayer without intention is often compared to a bird without a wing - neigher of them can't fly. For this and incessant foreign thoughts during prayer I used to be obsessed with this encouragement, until I recently read Illuminated Sound: The Baal Shem Tov on Prayer by Rabbi DovBer Pinson. This book - especially the following three passages - has revolutionalized my prayer since then:

"The Chidush/novelty of the Baal Shem's teaching, [...], is that he strongly encourages us to focus on our Kavanah ['intention' - TS] just before we recite the words of Davening, and then, when we are vocalizing the words, we should drop any intellectual formula and just be present in the resonance of the words themselves. In the Baal Shem's approach to Kavanah, the intention should illuminate what is about to be said, and then the words should be pronounced without any 'thought' whatsoever."

"If I am engaged in intellectually dissecting the information even while they are talking, my Da'as/awareness and presence is caught up in an egoic pursuit. In fact, if one is caught up in the meaning of their own words as they are speaking them, they will not be present in them either, and perhaps even become too self-conscious to speak."

"Whatever meaning you construct in your limited understanding pales in comparison to what truly lies within the sacred, holy and light-filled words of Tefilah ['prayer' - TS]. If you are thinking about a particular Kavanah ['intention' - TS] while reciting them, you are limiting their true capacity, because then the words only mean what you think they mean, from your limited perspective, and not what they really mean on their own. If, however, you are simply saying the words of Davening without any personal, subjective, and limiting understanding of what they mean, then the words retain their maximum and Infinite potential."

I've been liberated from the above mentioned obsession of mine. I realize now that whatever intention I have in mind during prayer, it will always be partial. So I simply immerse myself in the sounds of the words of prayer I recite instead.

This shift is parallel to my previous shift in my daily practice of meditation before davening - from mindfulness meditation to what Adyashanti calls "true meditation". The common denominator between this latter meditation and prayer according to Baal Shem Tov is that you simply flow and let go of any artificial effort to control your meditation/prayer.

I shared this revolutionary teaching with my study partner of Tanya, "the written Torah of Chassidus". He also told me that it has revolutionalized his daily prayer. If you also find it difficult to daven, please try this method. What I have in mind is Jewish prayer from a siddur ('prayer book'), so doesn't apply to spontaneous prayer, which often comes from our temporary egoic desires.

What We Humans Can Learn from Cats (and Other Animals)

To my great surprise and sorrow, our four-legged neighbor suddenly left our building as her two-legged "owner" left her apartment here about a month ago. As everyone who has visited Jerusalem probably knows, this city (as well as many other cities in Israel) has many cats on the street. Our neighborhood is no exception.

Since our four-legged neighbor, who used to wait for me every morning at the entrance of my apartment, left us, I've "adopted" one small cat on the street. No, I don't keep him inside my apartment. I simply feed him first thing in the morning. He also started waiting for me every morning at the entrance of my aparment.

Most cats seem quite suspicious of humans when they see us for the first time. The cat I've "adopted" was no exception, but much less than his fellows. When I first saw him, I extended my hand to him. Then he approached me slowly but cautiously. Now he accompanies me everywhere on the street within his seeming "pale of settlement" even after eating his "breakfast". While he is will me, he literally dances, which I can't describe with words.

Having observed these two cats, I've realized a few things we humans can learn from cats (and seemingly other animals, too).

The first - and for me the most important - thing is that they are not trapped in their mind-made prison, paradoxically they aren't intelligent enough to have language. I've already come to a conclusion that language is not only a tool of communication but also the gatekeeper of the mind-made prison. Because of language most humans can't stop conceptualizing everyone and everything they encounter, including themselves.

There are two opposite states in which we aren't trapped in our mind-made prison. The first is to be below our mind, and the second is to be above our mind. Most humans are not only trapped in the middle but also unaware of this fact. I've noticed that many of the otherwise "intelligent" people tend to be trapped in their mind-made prison far more deeply than others as they use their mind, which often uses them instead more frequently. I witness this again and again, including my former colleagues in academia.

The ideal state for humans is to transcend our mind-made prison, but in the present state of our collective ego many will remain "asleep". I myself was totally "asleep" and naturally unware of this very fact. I can't say that I've been fully liberated from my own mind-made prison, but I've been waking up. The more I wake up, or the more aware I become of my own mind-made prison, the less people I find with a common "language".

When I first realized that cats aren't trapped in such a mind-made prison that plagues most humans, this was both a shock and a pleasant surprise. Being surrounded by those who can't help labeling others unconsciously, I find it a great relief to be with other living creatures that don't label me and others. At least once a day for about ten to twenty minutes I can spend time with such a cat.

This seems to lead to their mindfulness in contrast to mindlessness, which is paradoxically one of the most salient characteristics of those who are trapped in their mind-made prison as they are so identified with their thoughts that their speech and action are mindless, that is, unconscious, automatic and reactive.. Cats seem to live (in) the present moment and focus on what they are doing unlike most humans. I practiced mindfulness through meditation and other methods, but I'm still far from the level of mindfulness I see among cats.

I'm also deeply touched by the trust I receive from the cat I've "adopted". He waits for me every morning, trusting that I'll feed him. He must start waiting for me much earlier than five in the morning, when I wake up and feed him. Though I know that this trust comes from his instinctive desire for daily food, cats don't seem to betray us, while I've experienced several betrayals by other humans I trusted.

Totally New Use of Yiddish

After I got divorced from my Yiddish-speaking ex-wife and then from academia, where I occupied myself with Yiddish, among others, my Yiddish remained unemployed for a while. But since I got acquainted with Chabad Chassidus afterwards and started learning it both formally and privately, I've found a totally new use for my Yiddish though a passive one - reading and listening to teachings of three towering Chabad rabbis in Yiddish:

• Likkutei Sichos by Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson (The Lubavitcher Rebbe)
• Tanya Leiyuno by Rabbi Yoel Kahn
• Sipurey tsadikim ('Tales of the Righteous') by Rabbi Yosef Wineberg, author of Lessons in Tanya

What I read and heard in Yiddish in my "prehistory" even seems a total waste of time in comparison to this treasure trove of Jewish life wisdom. I feel it was worth my while to study Yiddish just to get acquainted with these profound teachings.

I wish Yiddishists would also be exposed to them though it might be very difficult for them to understand the special kind of Yiddish in these teachings - full with Hebrew and Aramaic expressions from classical Jewish sources.

In my "prehistory", when I was still a very naive Yiddishist I used to consider Yiddishkeit as part of Yiddishism, but now I definitely consider Yiddishism as part of Yiddishkeit (and the former isn't even an indespensable part of the latter though Yiddish as a kind of תּשמיש-קדושה can greatly enhance one's experience of Yiddishkeit).

I definitely feel more connected to Yiddishkeit in Yiddish than in Modern Hebrew, which has no "Jewish taste" for me in contrast to traditional Ashkenazic Hebrew, in which I daven and read aloud Jewish books since several years ago even before encoutering Chabad Chassidus.

When I first took an interest in Likkutei Sichos a few years ago, this magnum opus seemed too daunting to me, so I started learning it orally with what seems to be the predecessor to The Daily Sicha (and its Android app). I'm going to spend one year in the next Jewish year 5983 with this application as well as Selections from Likkutei Sichos as a preparation for my four-year project of reading through the 39 volumes of Likkutei Sichos, which is written in Yiddish (24 volumes) and traditional Hebrew (15 volumes).