VAYEIRA | Aimlessness and Identity

 

אֲנִי הִנֵּה בְרִיתִי אִתָּךְ וְהָיִיתָ לְאַב הֲמוֹן גּוֹיִם׃ 

As for Me, this is My covenant with you: You shall be the father of a multitude of nations.

Genesis 17:4 (Lech Lecha)

 

וַיֵּרָא אֵלָיו יְהֹוָה בְּאֵלֹנֵי מַמְרֵא וְהוּא יֹשֵׁב פֶּתַח־הָאֹהֶל כְּחֹם הַיּוֹם׃ 

Undifferentiated Love appeared to him by the terebinths of Mamre; he was sitting at the entrance of the tent as the day grew hot.

Genesis 18:1

 

Abraham is destined to be "the father of a multitude of  nations." He embraces what Buddhist teacher Thich Nhat Hanh and Hasidic masters call "aimlessness." In Torah, the entry to the path of aimlessness is "lech lecha," going out from inherited, unexamined and conferred identity to go into yourself and then to go out again. This is the practice of returning to yourself, letting go of everything that shields you from knowing your true self. From that place of "True Home" as Thich Nhat Hanh calls it, you have space to allow and hear what calls to you. You enter into intimate conversation with what is,  rather than an agenda you create or were born into.

Abraham walked with God — not chasing after or mimicking. His lech lecha is a spiritual aimlessness that makes available an encounter with the Divine everywhere, in every moment.

Aimlessness does not mean doing nothing. It means not putting something in front of you to chase after. When we remove the objects of our craving and desires, we discover that happiness and freedom are available to us right here in the present moment.

Thich Nhat Hanh, The Art of Living: Peace and Freedom in the Here and Now

Emptying Self To Connect With Inner Truth

In last week's Torah story, Abraham heard and acted on a call to lech lecha, go forth to yourself. The journey began with him leaving the conditioned identities into which he was born: his entity with his father, his homeland and the land of self.

This week's portion, Vayeira, "and he saw," continues with him leaving core identities he took on: husband and father. He learns he will be a father and will cast off his sons Ismail and Isaac. He takes on the role of brother to his wife Sarah. He takes on the role of father to his nephew Lot. Each story is full of tragedy, challenges and lessons.

The spiritual purpose of this casting off, shapeshifting, is to access unconditional love. As Ram Dass realized when his longing for unconditional love was met in Neem Karoli Baba, his guru in India, only the unconditioned can give unconditional love. Abraham is met by the messengers of the Unconditioned at the beginning of the Torah portion. He has accessed a state of physical and spiritual openness and vulnerability.

Sarah's Laugh

וְאַבְרָהָם וְשָׂרָה זְקֵנִים בָּאִים בַּיָּמִים חָדַל לִהְיוֹת לְשָׂרָה אֹרַח כַּנָּשִׁים׃ 

 Now Abraham and Sarah were old, advanced in years; Sarah had stopped having the periods of women.

וַתִּצְחַק שָׂרָה בְּקִרְבָּהּ לֵאמֹר אַחֲרֵי בְלֹתִי הָיְתָה־לִּי עֶדְנָה וַאדֹנִי זָקֵן׃ 

And Sarah laughed to herself, saying, “Now that I am withered, am I to have enjoyment—with my husband so old?”

וַתְּכַחֵשׁ שָׂרָה  לֵאמֹר לֹא צָחַקְתִּי כִּי  יָרֵאָה וַיֹּאמֶר  לֹא כִּי צָחָקְתְּ׃ 

Sarah lied, saying, “I did not laugh,” for she was frightened. But He replied, “You did laugh.”

Genesis 18:11-12,15

 

The Spiritual Ascension of Sarah and Hagar

Only the unconditioned can give unconditioned love.

Ram Dass

The promise to Abraham and Sarah that they will conceive a child is a gift from the unconditioned — beyond human physicality, beyond reward or punishment. A gift. Torah gifts them with unconditioned love — a love that transcends physicality and also untruthful thoughts. This is beautifully depicted in the story of Sarah's laugh. When the Divine messengers reveal to Abraham and Sarah that at ages close to 100 they will birth a son, Sarah laughs to herself.  When the Divine messengers challenge her laughing as a rejection of unconditional Divine love, she denies that she laughed. And still they confer upon her the gift of love from which she has longed for almost 100 years!

Sarah thus transcends the identity that plagues the women of Torah: barrenness. She receives a transmission of unconditional love that will  continue on after her mysterious death. This is the context for understanding her rejection of Ismail and Hagar, Abraham's other son and his mother, whom she orders Abraham to cast out? Again, this isn't Sarah's doing, as Torah makes clear in the unfolding story. It is the plan of the unconditioned itself. Hagar's journey will lead her to see and be seen by the One Who Sees her, El Roi. As the story unfolds, Hagar's legacy will be the healing place accessible to all the generations.

Hagar's encounter at the well of the Life Giver, whom she names the Living One Seeing Her, is a moment of healing from trauma. "When I feel you feeling me; when I see you seeing me," that is a moment of healing me and us. When I see and feel you, and know you receive my presence, that is a healing moment for you and us (based on my study with trauma mystic Thomas Hubl). 

Hagar's descent into the pit of othering becomes the instrument of complete healing through resonance. As Thomas Hubl expresses this moment, "I see you seeing me. I feel you feeling me."

וַיִּשְׁמַע אֱלֹהִים אֶת־קוֹל הַנַּעַר וַיִּקְרָא מַלְאַךְ אֱלֹהִים  אֶל־הָגָר מִן־הַשָּׁמַיִם וַיֹּאמֶר לָהּ מַה־לָּךְ הָגָר אַל־תִּירְאִי כִּי־שָׁמַע אֱלֹהִים אֶל־קוֹל הַנַּעַר בַּאֲשֶׁר הוּא־שָׁם׃

Life-giver Elohim heard the cry of the boy [Ismail], and an angel of Life-giver Elohim called to Hagar from heaven and said to her, “What troubles you, Hagar? Fear not, for God has heeded the cry of the boy where he is.

קוּמִי שְׂאִי אֶת־הַנַּעַר וְהַחֲזִיקִי אֶת־יָדֵךְ בּוֹ כִּי־לְגוֹי גָּדוֹל אֲשִׂימֶנּוּ׃ 

Come, lift up the boy[ and hold him by the hand, for I will make a great nation of him.”

וַיִּפְקַח אֱלֹהִים אֶת־עֵינֶיהָ וַתֵּרֶא בְּאֵר מָיִם וַתֵּלֶךְ וַתְּמַלֵּא אֶת־הַחֵמֶת מַיִם וַתַּשְׁקְ אֶת־הַנָּעַר׃ 

Then Life-giver Elohim opened her eyes and she saw a well of water. She went and filled the skin with water, and let the boy drink.

וַיְהִי אֱלֹהִים אֶת־הַנַּעַר וַיִּגְדָּל וַיֵּשֶׁב בַּמִּדְבָּר וַיְהִי רֹבֶה קַשָּׁת׃ 

Undifferentiated Love was with the boy and he grew up; he dwelt in the wilderness and became a bowman.

וַיֵּשֶׁב בְּמִדְבַּר פָּארָן וַתִּקַּח־לוֹ אִמּוֹ אִשָּׁה מֵאֶרֶץ מִצְרָיִם׃ 

He lived in the wilderness of Paran; and his mother got a wife for him from the land of Egypt.

Genesis 21:17-21

Hagar set forth with her only son, Ismail, fearing they would surely die of thirst in the desert. Instead, Hagar and Ismail are held in the protective arms of Unconditional Love. Unconditional Love meets and appears to her as "El Roi," She is assured by the voice of Love that Ismail too will be a great nation.

Abraham's initiation into the unconditioned is tested again. The Unconditioned calls him again to "lech lecha," this time with his son Isaac. This is Abraham's call to access a love beyond the identity of parent and child, even at the cost of the child's life. This is the sword of cutting all ties, all bounds, to enter into a universal love.

He wanders in a state of presence and readiness. This is the aimlessness of the enlightened wanderer. Open, available, without hidden agendas.

 ...וַיֵּלֶךְ אֶל־הַמָּקוֹם אֲשֶׁר־אָמַר־לוֹ הָאֱלֹהִים׃ 

… and he set out for the place of which Unconditioned Love had told him.

בַּיּוֹם הַשְּׁלִישִׁי וַיִּשָּׂא אַבְרָהָם אֶת־עֵינָיו וַיַּרְא אֶת־הַמָּקוֹם מֵרָחֹק׃ 

 On the third day Abraham looked up and saw the place from afar.

Genesis 22:3-4

Abraham is leaving behind conditioned identity to step into his destiny to be the father of all nations, beyond any favoritism with which we privilege some. He followed the call to transcend role and ancestral  identification, setting forth with his son Isaac and wandering aimlessly for three days, as Torah commentator Avivah Zornberg teaches. The aimlessness is the fermenting period, the time for him to reflect and willingly choose to step fully into freedom, seemingly at any cost. He is prepared to cut the bonds of parenting.

What can be harder and potentially more harmful than walking away from the identity of father or mother? This is painful and challenging to us. As a parent and grandparent, even though I long to care as much for children everywhere, for the children at the US-Mexico border, for the children in Gaza, Israel, Syria, Tibet, I know I don't. I favor "my own." My identification as parent, as mother, as "their mother" is strong and limiting.

In the book Old Path, White Clouds, Thich Nhat Hanh writes the story of the Buddha, Prince Siddhartha, leaving his father's house, his beloved wife and son. He sets forth to achieve his own awakening for the benefit of all being everywhere. This too is hard medicine for us. The suffering of abandoned women and children is never justifiable. Sacrificing one's own for "the greater good" is abhorrent to us.

Our evolutionary task is to learn to both protect those in need of our protection and at the same time expand our sphere and capacity of care. Our growth lies in our ability to recognize when we are choosing an identity that limits our spheres of care. I am choosing to be a parent to this one. I am choosing to support this community. I am choosing to support this cause.

The grounding for that is to recognize the interconnectedness of all life. In Torah this is shown in Abraham's radical trust that each member of his own household and all those who cross his path are all served and protected by One Voice. He prays for the household and future of the households of King Abimelech:

וַיִּתְפַּלֵּל אַבְרָהָם אֶל־הָאֱלֹהִים וַיִּרְפָּא אֱלֹהִים אֶת־אֲבִימֶלֶךְ וְאֶת־אִשְׁתּוֹ וְאַמְהֹתָיו וַיֵּלֵדוּ׃ 

Abraham then prayed to Undifferentiated Love, and Undifferentiated Love healed Abimelech and his wife and his slave girls, so that they bore children;

כִּי־עָצֹר עָצַר יְהֹוָה בְּעַד כׇּל־רֶחֶם לְבֵית אֲבִימֶלֶךְ עַל־דְּבַר שָׂרָה אֵשֶׁת אַבְרָהָם׃    

...for Undifferentiated Love had closed fast every womb of the household of Abimelech because of Sarah, the wife of Abraham.

Genesis 20:17-18

Abraham is to be a blessing for all the nations. And this is the path that leads to Abraham becoming the "father" of all nations, eventually of Judaism, Islam and Christianity. We, the children of Abraham from all three religions, are stuck in our separate identifications in ways that cause great harm and violence. Our evolutionary task is to connect with identity in a way that brings about greater compassion and understanding in the world, and a world where resources are shared equally and sustainably.

Abraham chooses to make himself a non dual container for the universal and the particular. He argues with God to stop the killing of the people of Sodom. He chooses compassion and life over role and identity.

A foundational principle of Nonviolent Communication (NVC)  helps us walk this path. The principle is that we always have choice.  And that every action we take is an attempt and choice to meet the needs of life. Our choice may have the consequences of life or death. We may come to regret our choices. This is growth. And still, in every moment, perhaps without awareness, we are choosing life.  How do we know? Because we are alive!

This is empowering and clarifying because when we can identify what needs we are choosing, attempting to meet in every action, every choice, we can look more deeply and test for ourselves if our choice is indeed in alignment with our deepest truth. Are we limited by the "shoulds" of role identity? Do we tell ourselves, "I have no choice?" When we motivate ourselves in this way, we are in the breeding grounds of resentment and depression.

One of my favorite stories about Marshall Rosenberg, the founder of NVC, illustrates this. A woman came to his training and spoke about her frustration and resentment from cooking every night. Marshall asked her, why do you do that? She answered, "I have no choice." He said he wanted to show her that we always have choice, that Nonviolent Communication is about accessing our deepest connection to our choices.

He asked her, what needs of hers was she attempting to meet by making dinner every night? And what needs of hers weren't being met by her doing so?

She came to realize that she was choosing to cook every night because she was telling herself she "should." And that the "should" was a not-so-wonderful way of getting her to meet needs for caring for her family. And she realized that this wasn't meeting many other needs of hers. Her thoughts were that she was supposed to do this to be a "good mother," fulfill that role, regardless of the cost. That was the meaning of "I have no choice." Through self inquiry, she realized she felt resentful and depleted because core needs of hers weren't being met, needs such as for rest, mutuality, pursuing her creative life, and choice.

What happened next shows us that, in fact, she wasn't meeting the needs for caring for her family either. She went home from the workshop determined to change course. The following week, her sons showed up for the NVC session. They identified themselves to Marshall. He said, I'm glad you're here. I've been wondering what happened. Well, one son said, our mother came home and announced that she was no longer going to cook dinner every night.

“How was that for you?” Marshall asked.

"Thank God,”  the sons replied. Now she won't be complaining about it every night.

We are in a time of great uncovering of role and identity in the world. In my country, for example, many white-identified people are looking for the first time at how the identity of whiteness carries unexamined privilege. We are seeing how this impacts what will soon be the majority of the population who are not white-identified. Many are examining for the first time how the identity we were born into confers standards of power, beauty, and deservingness. How identification with the dominant caste or race or group empowers us to speak up for what we want, to object to what we don't like, to take control of conversations and agendas and generates expectations that we will be listened to and accommodated.

This of course is just the tip of an enormous iceberg. The spiritual growth this can open to us is an awareness of the constraints of identity, the harm to ourselves and others, the separateness and falseness it engenders. We can read the stories of Abraham and the Buddha as calls to liberate ourselves from identities that limit our love.

Nonviolent Communication Exercise to Liberate Identity

• Write down something you habitually do because you tell yourself you "should" do it.
• Use this list of Feelings  to help you connect with and write down how you feel when you are thinking every "I should" thought.
• Use this list of Needs to to help you connect with and write down what needs of yours you are intending to meet, or actually meeting,  when you are thinking every "I should" thought.
• Reflect for a while on these feelings and needs. This is a "lech lecha" practice- go to yourself.
• Now do the same process, this time identifying how you feel and the needs of yours you aren't meeting when you do something because you "should."
• Reflect for a while on these feelings and needs. This is a "lech lecha" practice- go to yourself.
• What do you learn about yourself when you look at both groups of feelings and needs?
• Are there new choices you can make that value both groups?
• How do these new choices affect your relationship to the identity that was enforcing the "should" ?

 

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Aimlessness
Thich Nhat Hanh

In the West, we are very goal oriented.  We know where we want to go, and we are very directed in getting there.  This may be useful, but often we forget to enjoy ourselves along the route.

There is a word in Buddhism that means "wishlessness" or "aimlessness."  The idea is that you do not put something in front of you and run after it, because everything is already here, in yourself.  While we practice walking meditation, we do not try to arrive anywhere.  We only make peaceful, happy steps.  If we keep thinking of the future, of what we want to realize, we will lose our steps.  The same is true with sitting meditation.  We sit just to enjoy our sitting; we do not sit in order to attain any goal.  This is quite important.  Each moment of sitting meditation brings us back to life, and we should sit in a way that we enjoy our sitting for the entire time we do it.  Whether we are eating a tangerine, drinking a cup of tea, or walking in meditation, we should do this in a way that is "aimless."

Often we tell ourselves, "Don't just sit there, do something!"  But when we practice awareness, we discover something unusual.  We discover that the opposite may be more helpful:  "Don't just do something, sit there!"  We must learn to stop from time to time in order to see clearly.  At first, "stopping" may look like a kind of resistance to modern life, but it is not.  It is not just a reaction; it is a way of life.  Humankind's survival depends on our ability to stop rushing.

— Excerpted from Peace is Every Step

 

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Kin
Mohja Kahf

Sarah, you massaged my sacrum with a tennis ball when I was in labor. Like a priestess of the body, you wiped the newborn Ismail clean of birthblood and whispered first holy words into his ear. You are his mother too. We are kin. No decrees of man or God can make this truer than it is, nor can it be cloven. We did not begin with the husband we shared, but in Egypt, with divine intelligence arrowed from eye to eye across a patio of pagan strangers, when I was royalty and you were trembling in the house. You knew exile and I knew exile. You suffered and I suffered. Like matter, kinship can be changed but not destroyed. Cruelty tarnishes, but cannot dissolve it. We are kin from bread baked together, salted, broken, eaten, sacred as a challah braid at sunset on the Night of Power; from the battering waters of the sea we crossed; from the Tree of Life whose branches we burned to stay alive. Kin we are from knowledge of the Name; you had the first letters, I had the last and, putting them together, we spelled out the Secret.

“Kin” by Mohja Kahf is from Hagar Poems (University of Arkansas Press, 2016).