We find ourselves pondering this in Kalach Pitchei Chokhmah, a text that delves into the deepest, most hidden aspects of wisdom. And here, the concept revolves around something called the "Unknown Head." What is the Unknown Head? It's a way of describing the most primordial, unknowable aspect of God.
The text contrasts this "Unknown Head" with the "Dew of Bedolach." Now, Bedolach is often translated as bdellium, a precious resin or gem mentioned in the Torah (Genesis 2:12). But here, its symbolic significance is key. This Dew of Bedolach, we're told, contains all colors together.
Think about that for a moment. All the colors, coexisting. As the Zohar, the foundational text of Jewish mysticism, explains in Idra Rabba (128b, 132b), this Dew embodies both Chesed (Kindness) and Din (Judgment). "It is white," the Zohar says, "but a red color is visible in the white..." It’s a beautiful image of harmony, where opposing forces aren't in conflict, but rather, exist in a unified whole. No single color dominates or negates the others. They all find their place.
But the Unknown Head? That's a different story. Here, "one thing rules out another." It’s a realm of constant change, constant transmutation. What appears to be one thing suddenly becomes its opposite. It's like our initial perception was completely wrong, a mirage.
Why this constant shifting? Well, it touches on the very nature of the unknowable. The text hints at the impossibility of definitively pinning down the "source of the mode of government," as it puts it. In other words, we can’t fully grasp the divine will or the way the universe is governed at its most fundamental level. It’s beyond our comprehension.
It’s a challenging idea, isn’t it? We crave certainty, fixed points of reference. But the Unknown Head reminds us that some things are inherently beyond our grasp, constantly shifting and revealing new, often contradictory, facets. Perhaps, the very act of seeking to understand the divine requires us to embrace this uncertainty, to accept that our understanding will always be incomplete, and perhaps, always in flux.