Time, Space; Contained Infinity
I read recently that within certain Jewish traditions, it is understood that the Torah — or as some might know it — the first five books of the Bible, is the name of God. The whole of those five books. There’s a lot of text there. That’s “God’s name”.
Then consider how that God names that God’s self when asked what that God’s name is in the narrative of those 5 books…
“I am that I am.”
Or another name option… YHWH.
These vowels, I’ve read before, sound like the noise you make when you breathe when pronounced in Hebrew.
So whether a series of five books, or “I am that I am” or the sound of your breath, it seems like the God of this tradition was never one interested in a categorical definition of self. We’re dealing with a watershed here much more than one pond, lake, or even one river. Many parts yielding a whole.
But we also come at this realization through a specific context.
Vastness tied to context… I want to play around with that idea a little.
I haven’t written much about theology explicitly as of late. I have felt though, in that pause on genre, that I’ve been even more in touch with the spiritual as I personally relate to it. It’s been nice! My interaction with world has been less couched in rhetoric of ideology but rather in observation, oriented and tuned to the key of a slow and gradual confluence of all nature/reality/existence.
This has been freeing!
That said, as I have explored, I’ve found pockets of time in which I do return to the world of the theological, if only to contextualize and filter thought. Experience informed by tradition is not always a necessity to truth, I don’t think. But it is a great way to feel connected to a deep-time lineage seeking to make sense of the world.
There’s hope and connection in that. There can also be bigotry and humans trying to co-opt it for gain… which is why this isn’t an essay on theology.
Transition!
I read recently that ritual is to time what a room is to space. (Byung-Chul Han) It might help to read that a couple times… Ritual is to time what a room is to space.
Just as a house contextualizes the vastness of space, a ritual, say a wedding ceremony, creates a context for shared time.
In my own life, the boundaries and formalities and parameters on both place and time have become less and less contained by room or ritual. And I can’t help but recognize that it has caused me to feel disoriented.
I work from home. So my reading room (spare bedroom, really) is also my office. Where work happens and where life happens have morphed into where stuff happens. And stuff is not really a “room” that can be couched, contextually.
Ritual, or said differently, intentional habit, is also not all that steady. I tried to list recently what intentional habits, entered with true mindfulness that I have. It was hard to start the list.
I don’t think I’m alone, either. Time and space seems less and less contained. The parameters aren’t as firm anymore.
Which is liberating! And is limiting.
The two for one in that… confusing.
So I’ve started to journal more. Just today, I decided I’m going to try and light a specific candle when I journal (if time and space allow) and a specific candle when I write to share. Each to contextualize the time spent with those rituals. The flame working away at wax — time having a context to be witnessed.
I’m looking for more rituals like this. Also ones “bigger” or “smaller”, whatever that means as it relates to this word.
Maybe I’ll try to go into the office a bit more. Maybe just a couple times a week. To let that space hold the piece of me contextualized by my work.
The Jewish representation of divinity shared earlier is not a catch-all postage stamp to the presence of what divinity is. But what each of those springboards regarding the name of god does is set an intention oriented toward vastness, housed within context.
Tradition and rhythm don’t need to be stiff. These things can swing. And perhaps in the balance of their fluid movement, in their watershed vastness yet systematic convergence, there is something purposeful.
The plants in my yard exist through both time and space operating together to create a reality. Ritualistically, they bloom in spring, thrive in summer, shed in fall, rest in winter. They hold their place on earth.
Ritual is to time what a room is to space. I know these plants through their relationship to their space, to their time. But some days, I don’t really feel that I know myself.
Vastness and steadiness can exist together. God is the sound you make when you breathe. The many faces of the apple tree is the apple tree. Time and space made holding each presentation, and contextualizing it.
