In Da’at Tevunot, a profound work of Jewish thought, we find a discussion about the interplay between the body and the soul and how that interaction can manifest on different levels. It describes different states of being, focusing on how much influence our physical selves have on our actions and decisions.

The text speaks of a third level, where the body exerts some control, but not completely. It's like a tug-of-war where the body manages to win a few rounds with some of the simpler, more basic desires. Even so, Da’at Tevunot assures us that, at this stage, these bodily influences don't have major lasting consequences.

But things get really interesting when we reach the fourth level. Here, the body seems to have complete control. You might find yourself thinking, feeling, and acting in ways that seem entirely driven by physical needs and desires. But here's the twist: even in this state, the text suggests that the body is actually like a stranger in a foreign land. It's present, it's acting, but it's not truly at home. The soul is still the ruler, and the body is just trying to navigate according to the soul’s will.

It's kind of like the idea presented in Shemot Rabbah (47:5), "You came to the city, go according to the custom of the place."

Think of Moshe (Moses) on Mount Sinai receiving the Torah. He didn't shed his physical body, but he adapted. According to Bava Metzia 86b, "A person should never deviate from the local custom," and that’s what Moshe did, essentially conforming to the "customs" of the spiritual realm while still remaining physically present. His change wasn't inherent but a consequence of his environment, not a complete transformation of his very being.

At this fourth level, even though bodily matters are distinct and recognizable, they’re not in their proper place. They need to be subdued or even nullified for the sake of the soul. This is where things get powerful. Because from this level onward, the text suggests, we stop differentiating all the nuances of the body. And more importantly, those bodily influences cease to have any real consequence, because they’re ultimately subservient to the soul’s path.

What does this mean for us? Perhaps it's a reminder that even when we feel most driven by our physical desires, there's still a deeper part of us – our soul – that's guiding the way. It means recognizing that those urges don't need to define us. We can acknowledge them, understand them, and ultimately choose to align ourselves with something higher.

This idea, that we can transcend the limitations of our physical selves, is a powerful message that resonates through Jewish tradition. And it offers hope that, no matter how strong the pull of the body might feel, our souls always have the potential to lead us toward something more meaningful.