If you've studied a little bit of philosophy, you've probably noticed that the seemingly most "obvious" and "self-evident" words are the ones which give us the most trouble. "Is" "I" "Good" "Right" "Beauty" -- tomes and tomes of literature have been dedicated to defining these words. If you think they are actually obvious, we would definitely suggest spending some time pondering your own definitions and discussing them with a friend. It won't take long to realize that there is nothing obvious about them.
Where is your "I?" Is it your body? Is it your brain? If so, where exactly would you look in the brain to find it? Is your personality you? Could you have been born with a different personality and still be you? These questions just begin to scratch the surface.
All of these concepts (e.g. the self, identity, good/evil, etc.) live so close to us with such constancy, that we hardly notice them. Like the smell of air, they go unnoticed and transparent to our mind's eye. It's fascinating once you start to ponder it -- the words we most frequently and nonchalantly use, are the words which represent the deepest and most elusive concepts in reality. Note that more complex words like "mitochondria" or "disenfranchisement" have much more concrete definitions.
Parallel to the above, there are similarly physical things in our lives that are are in extremely close and constant physical contact with us: our body, our clothing, our breathing, what we eat, our house, etc. These are things that we actually spend a good deal of time thinking about, but rarely, if ever, in a deep way -- we take care of them technically. We go to the gym, we go shopping, we go on this diet or that diet, clean the house, paint the walls... "Just do it," as they say -- and indeed, a responsible person does have to take care of the "equipment in his factory" and make sure everything runs smoothly -- nevertheless, we must call our attention to the gaping hole of awareness the is left vacant within us despite any technical know-how we may possess.
There are two levels of awareness of these basic life-elements that generally slip under our radars by virtue of their omnipresence in our lives: 1) what-awareness, and 2) why-awareness. For example, only recently have we begun to witness a resurgence of food-awareness in America. It started with general health concerns thinking about fats and carbs, and since progressed to an explosion of contemporary literature hammering our misconceptions -- fruit, it turns out, doesn't grow in plastic containers in the supermarket, but is cultivated by some poor farmer somewhere. This is the beginning of what-awareness. What are you actually eating? How did it get to you? Wake up and smell the coffee industry.
There is a deeper level that is Why? I may be counting calories, but have I ever thought about why Hashem made life in such a way that I need to spend so much of my day eating? Why didn't He just make a one-size-fits-all bland mush that has everything we need? Why was I made to speak from the place I eat? Why is it that our primary mode of socialization is sitting around a table and consuming foodstuffs in front of one another?
These two levels of awareness are by-and-large absent from our thoughts with regards to everything which forms the basics of our daily routine. We are on autopilot for the vast majority of our day.
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If we put these two main observations together, that the most obvious words we use, and the most mundane things we do are the most mysterious to us, it turns out that we may very well understand more about the geopolitical situation in the Middle East and the world maize market than the most fundamental realities closest to our skin and inside ourselves.Close to our skin
A מצוה "mitzva" cannot simply be translated as "commandment," otherwise it should be called a ציווי "tzivui." Rather, the deeper sources explain that aside from the basic understanding of a mitzva being a commandment, it is a vehicle of connection צוותה (see Sfas Emes on this week's parsha, Brachot 6b). Mitzvot, of course, function as points of meeting between us and Hashem, as well as us and other Jews, but they also amazingly function as bridges between our outer selves to our inner selves and back again. The outer self that is unaware as it eats and wears clothing is mapped through mitzvot into the inner self that is doesn't know how to define all the simple, yet ethereal concepts we've been speaking about.
Whoa -- that's a bit of a high idea in and of itself. Let's try and bring it down to earth.
Here's a metaphor. My daughter is 2 months old. Astonishingly, she is not really aware yet that she has hands. (I know -- it's nuts -- babies are unbelievable.) However, we have this neat little bracelet with a rattle on it, and when she moves her hands for one reason or another, it makes a noise and she can even scare herself. But slowly, she is starting to put 2 and 2 together and realizing that these heavy things to the left and right of her are her arms! And she can do all sorts of things with them, and is consequently thrilled beyond words.
A person could scoff at the Torah on two accounts: 1) how am I going to find spirituality in such mundane things like wearing that or eating that?, or 2) you want me to strap that scary-looking thing on my arm and hang those goofy tassels off my shirt!?! When, really, that "weird thing" that you're going to do in connection with that "mundane act" is the rattle on your wrist!
If you study the inner wisdom (Torah) of these things we do (mitzvot), over time you will start to perceive that what's rattling is something inside of you that you would have gone unnoticed for your whole life. The very fact that the "mundane" "everyday" things we do are mundane and everyday is precisely what makes them so powerful. They are deeply programed into our inner circuitry. In them lies the our ability to understand ourselves and bring our inner world to expression.
This is a key to unlocking the mysteries of this week's parsha. In it, the Torah describes the eight garments of the kohanim in the Mishkan (Temple). The Talmud (Erechin 16a, Malbim) explains that each of these garments correlates to a distinct part of the human psyche, the garments of the soul. As tempted as I am to go into them, I think for our purposes, we should wrap up with a few words on clothing in general.
Let's leave aside tzitzit and tefilin and yarmulkas and sheitles...let's just talk about clothing. Given the principles we've layed down, the fact that the first and last thing we do everyday is put on and take off our clothing must yield a profound effect on how we see ourselves.
Certainly, if you walk into Google and see vice-presidents and interns alike walking around in shorts and t-shirts, or into a Cohen, Greenberg & Goldstein where even the security guard is wearing a three-piece suit, you will notice that clothing has an impact. That is the basis for any dress-code in the first place.
Similarly, if you take our imaginary character "Vinny" who without-fail wears a white linen shirt with the top 5 buttons unbuttoned everyday, he will understandably consider his chest, chest hair, and the gold charm embedded in it all essential to who he is. He'll tell you, "Dress code? What do you mean!?! This is me -- Vinny!" He wouldn't feel himself if they were covered up.
"Cindy," on the other hand, considers herself a very bright, bubbly, and open personality. Wanting to "express herself" she wears bright colors and open shirts.
What's the problem? We don't want to think of ourselves as judgmental people, but as humans, we can tend to lose the forest for the trees. When we look at Vinny, all we see is his exposed chest and chest-hair-encrusted necklace, instantly assuming that he is just like every other mobster character we know so well from movies. Similarly, when we look at Cindy, a man will not necessarily see her bright, bubbly and open personality; he will just see her bright, bubbly and open clothing, and lack thereof. Hence, the English term "objectification."
It's an intrinsic problem with clothing. Not coincidentally, the word for clothing is בגד, the 2nd, 3rd and 4th letters in the Aleph-Bet. They represent the external garments that cover the 1st letter א. While the א always represents the ineffable, Divine "I" אני (the א is the only letter which makes no sound -- it represents the indivisible Oneness as the 1st letter), לבגוד means "to betray." The problem of clothing is that they betray the ineffable "I" behind them. We cut the person off and define them by how they appear superficially -- put them in a box -- fit them into a stereotype. We quite commonly call people by their outfit: "preppy" "nerdy" "trendy" "metro" "effeminate" "hipster" "mizrachi" "hareidi" "modern" ... the list goes on. More often than not, clothing will block a potential conversation rather than lead to one.
We are of course not suggesting nudism as the alternative. A person has to wear clothing because otherwise people will just see him as a fleshy, earthy animal as surely as we can't get past Vinny's not-so-subtle chest hair.
The Torah concept of tzniut is to dress and act in a way which tries to avoid the betrayal of clothing, thus allowing one's true self to be expressed. Clothing, then, is our meta-metaphor. It is so close to us that we hardly notice it's side-effects, but the flip-side is that it is tremendously powerful. The Torah allows us to harness clothing as an opportunity to access our true self and the otherwise obscured self of others -- the א within. When we wake up to the reality closest to our skin and see words of Torah on our doorposts, an indication of the hidden world on top of our heads, Divinely-bestowed enjoyment on our plates -- we will open our eyes to opportunities all around us.
Beautiful!!
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