And, in the Kabbalah, the answer lies, in part, in understanding the relationship between different spiritual realms, specifically Atzilut, Beria, Yetzira, and Asiya.
Now, these aren't just abstract concepts. Think of them as different levels of reality, each influencing the ones below. The highest of these worlds, Atzilut (Emanation), is where the divine plan originates. According to Baal HaSulam, in his preface to the Zohar, this is where the "planned design" for everything that will exist in the lower worlds of Beria (Creation), Yetzira (Formation), and Asiya (Action) takes shape.
Imagine it like this: Atzilut is the architect's blueprint. Beria, Yetzira, and Asiya are the construction sites where that blueprint is brought to life. The vessels of the ten sefirot (divine attributes) in each of these lower worlds—Ḥokhma (Wisdom), Bina (Understanding), Tiferet (Beauty), and Malkhut (Kingdom)—receive their form and specific qualities from their corresponding aspects in Atzilut. Every detail in the implementation is a direct result of a detail in the original plan.
But here's where it gets really interesting. Baal HaSulam uses a powerful metaphor to describe Atzilut: he calls its vessels "white." Now, white isn't a color itself, is it? It's the source of all colors. Similarly, Atzilut, while seemingly without a specific form, contains the potential for everything that will manifest.
Think of a book of wisdom. The white space on the page doesn't seem to "say" anything. We focus on the letters, the words, the sentences. But, actually, the white space is crucial. It illuminates the letters, giving them shape and context. Without the white, the letters would just be meaningless marks, a jumble of ink.
Baal HaSulam suggests that we might even say we don't really grasp the substance of the red, green, or black letters themselves. Our perception of them comes through the white. It’s the illumination around and within each letter that forms them into shapes, revealing the wisdom contained within the book.
So, in a way, we can't truly understand the details of our world—the "colors"—without understanding their source in the "white" of Atzilut. It's a reminder that everything is interconnected, that even the seemingly empty spaces are filled with potential and meaning.
This idea, that the source is both nothing and everything, that the unmanifest contains all possibilities, invites us to consider our own lives. What "white spaces" do we overlook? What potential lies hidden in the seemingly empty moments? Perhaps, by paying attention to these spaces, we can gain a deeper understanding of the grand design and our place within it.