Tzimtzum, a Hebrew word that means "contraction" or "self-limitation," is a profound idea in Jewish mysticism, particularly within the Kabbalistic tradition. It suggests that, before creating the universe, God, the Ein Sof (אין סוף) or "Infinite," contracted Himself.

Imagine it: Before creation, God's light, an infinite light, filled all of existence. There was no empty space, no void. Everything was saturated with the divine presence. This light had no beginning and no end. But then, God decided to create worlds. And to do that, according to this powerful myth, He contracted Himself.

The primary source for this idea comes from Rabbi Hayim Vital (1542-1640) in his Etz Hayim (עץ חיים), "The Tree of Life." Vital was the chief disciple of Rabbi Isaac Luria, known as the Ari (1534-1572), a towering figure in Kabbalah. Vital explains that God contracted His essence into what's described as no more than a handbreadth. At that instant, darkness spread everywhere, because God's infinite light had been withdrawn.

Think about it like this: "Like a person who draws in his breath," Vital writes, "so that the smaller might contain the larger, so did God contract His light into a handsbreadth, and the world was left in darkness." And in that darkness, God carved large boulders and hewed rocks to clear wondrous paths of wisdom.

Vital elaborates that the light, which formed a circle, contracted itself at its midpoint, withdrawing to the circumference and leaving an empty space in between. This is where the World of Emanation, and all other worlds, exist, with the light of the Infinite surrounding it.

Why this elaborate act of contraction? Because, as Vital explains, before the emanations were manifested and the creatures were formed, there was only a simple, ethereal light filling all of existence. There was no empty space, no vacuum, for everything was filled with that infinite light. When God desired to create the worlds and manifest the emanations, He contracted Himself in the very center of His light, creating an empty space. This tzimtzum was equally distributed around that empty middle point, forming a circular vacuum.

Now, the idea that God's presence fills the world isn't new. We see it in the biblical account of the Tent of Meeting. Remember when Moses couldn't enter because God's presence filled it entirely (Exodus 40:34-35)? Or the verse in Jeremiah (23:24) where God declares, "For I fill both heaven and earth"? Midrash Rabbah (Lev. Rab. 4:8) even quotes King David saying, "Just as the soul fills the body, so God fills the whole world."

But the idea that God can also contract His presence is also rooted in tradition. Think about God speaking to Moses from between the two staves of the Ark of the Tabernacle (Genesis Rabbah 4:4). Exodus Rabbah (34:1) is even more explicit, with God saying, "I will descend and concentrate My presence within one square cubit of the Ark." So, God can fill heaven and earth when He wishes, but He can also focus His presence as needed.

Interestingly, Dov Ber, the Maggid of Mezritch, had a slightly different take. He believed that tzimtzum took place in this world, where God contracted His infinite light, but that in the higher worlds, God's light remains unrestricted. He even found support for this in Isaiah 60:19: "No longer shall you need the sun for light by day… For the Lord shall be your light everlasting, your God shall be your glory." (Maggid Devarav le-Ya'akov 184).

So, what does it all mean? The concept of tzimtzum offers a powerful way to understand the paradox of creation. It suggests that God, in His infinite generosity and love, made space for us – literally. He limited Himself to allow for our existence, our freedom, and our ability to create and shape the world alongside Him. It's a humbling and awe-inspiring thought, isn't it?