Jewish mysticism offers a fascinating way to understand this inner struggle. It’s a journey of purification, a process of refining our desires, transforming them from self-centeredness to giving. And according to Baal HaSulam, in his introduction to the Zohar, that transformation is key to unlocking profound spiritual light.
Think of it this way: We all have a "desire to receive" – that basic human drive to want things, to take things in. Kabbalah acknowledges this, but it also suggests that we can purify this desire, transforming it into a "desire to give." When we manage to shift our focus outwards, to think about how we can contribute to the world, something amazing happens.
Baal HaSulam says that once a person purifies the “animal part” – that raw, instinctual part – of their desire to receive, and turns it into a desire to give, to the point where it’s clear they won't revert to their old ways, they achieve what's called "equation of form" with the world of Beria, the world of Creation. This is a crucial concept. It means aligning our own internal state with the higher spiritual realms. And the reward? They ascend and permanently receive the light of Neshama – the soul.
Now, the Neshama is a high level of soul, a higher consciousness. And receiving its light isn't a fleeting experience. It's permanent.
But the journey doesn't stop there.
Baal HaSulam goes on to say that by purifying the "human aspect" of our being – that more refined, intellectual, and emotional part – we can ascend even higher, to the Sefira of Ḥokhma, which is the realm of wisdom. Here, we can receive the light of Ḥaya, an even more elevated level of soul.
It’s important to note that according to Baal HaSulam, this process of purification isn't necessarily all-or-nothing. Even if we haven't completely purified our human aspect, we can still catch glimpses of that higher light. He draws a parallel to the worlds of Yetzira (Formation) and Asiya (Action), suggesting that the light of Neshama shines on us permanently, even while we're still working on ourselves.
So, what does all of this mean for us, here and now?
Perhaps it's a reminder that spiritual growth is a process, not a destination. It's about constantly striving to refine our desires, to shift our focus from receiving to giving. And even when we stumble, even when we feel like we're falling short, the light is still there, waiting for us. It is a comforting thought that as we work to purify our hearts and minds, we're not just improving ourselves, but also aligning ourselves with the very fabric of creation.