Kabbalah, Jewish mysticism, wrestles with this very idea. And one concept that helps us understand our limitations is the relationship between Adam Kadmon and Ein Sof.
Now, Adam Kadmon is a complex idea, often described as the primordial man, a kind of blueprint for creation. And Ein Sof, well, that's the Infinite, the Boundless, the ultimate divine reality. Think of it as the source of all light and being.
So, what's the connection? According to the Petichah LeChokhmat HaKabbalah, Adam Kadmon is like a mere thin line in relation to Ein Sof. A thin line! How can this be?
The key lies in understanding how light is contained and limited. The text describes Adam Kadmon as a partzuf, a divine "face" or configuration. This partzuf is formed of a kind of "skin" that encloses the light, limiting it from expanding to fill all of the space. Only a thin line of light remains positioned in the middle. This, my friends, is what we call "inner light."
But what about all the light that isn't inside Adam Kadmon? That vast, immeasurable amount of light that remains beyond? That's the "surrounding light." It's the remainder of the supernal light of Ein Sof before the constriction, or tzimtzum, that made creation possible. It remains outside Adam Kadmon because it can't be contained within the partzuf.
Imagine trying to capture the ocean in a bottle. You can only hold so much. The rest remains outside, surrounding the bottle.
This idea of "inner light" and "surrounding light" comes into play after the initial constriction and a subsequent "fusion through collision." When the "returning light" – the light that ascends in response to the divine light – tries to enclothe the supernal light, it can't contain everything. It can only absorb and transmit a small amount. This small amount, the portion we can receive and pass on, is the "inner light." The rest, the light that the vessels can't receive while maintaining the dynamic of receiving in order to give, stays outside. It's the "surrounding light."
Think of it like this: imagine a pipe drawing water from a vast lake. The walls of the pipe represent the "outside" in relation to the "inside," and the length of the pipe represents the flow "above to below." The pipe can only channel a certain amount of water to its destination. The rest of the water remains in the lake, surrounding the pipe. The pipe can't handle the sheer quantity of the entire lake while simultaneously channeling the water forward.
This analogy helps us grasp the relationship between our limited capacity to receive and the boundless nature of the divine. We can only contain so much "inner light." The rest remains as "surrounding light," a constant reminder of the infinite potential that exists beyond our grasp, yet is always present, always influencing us.
So, what does this all mean for us? Perhaps it suggests that we should be humbled by the knowledge that we can only perceive a fraction of reality. It encourages us to appreciate the "inner light" we do possess while remaining aware of the vast "surrounding light" that encompasses us all. And maybe, just maybe, it inspires us to strive to expand our capacity to receive, to become better conduits for the divine light that constantly seeks to flow through us.