It Was Taught Outside : Tanya

"Shall we step into Yesod?"
He nods and says: "Definitely. Right now"
We move together and instantly the world changes. The dark trees swirl around us like a tornado of greenery speckled with flashing lights and high frequency sound. In the center, where we are, there is a sense of quiet and solid stability, a place where we can stand and remain in place, nothing will disturb, nothing will pull us out until such a time comes that we decide to move again. We are together here in this bubble of tranquility, and inside of us, something changes as well. Tears start to flow, but without the added baggage of sentimentality. There is no sadness, no remorse, no desire for the past, only a simple ongoing release, salty currents that run down our faces, down upon our shirts and to the ground.
"So many avenues to travel on…"
"Let’s pick one."
"I choose Tanya."
"Yes, I know."
And we both remain in place while travelling to a far distant place, a place of danger and warmth and chaos, where we lived together and we both knew a shining girl that left her mark on us forever. She was small but not frail, strong but not pushy. Her temper was just enough to be fiery and severe, but not so much that she would lose her simple flowing beauty. Her desire was explosive and apparent, but it was balance by kindness and restraint. She would reach out to us through the gap that separates humans from each other and meet us at the place where we could be met. She would only demand what we could give and nothing else. And she would greet our efforts with a true smile and eyes that pressed almost shut in a burst of soft sincere love and friendship. With just such an explosion of light she must have given herself over to the guerrillas one night, giving her heart, her will and her body to the legendary lost brigade of the hills, and setting in motion the process that would end with her tied up, on her knees, with a soldier pointing a gun at her head. The pain of the bullet bursting through her face and cranium must have been terrible but quick. It was the echo that left her wandering, questioning the nature of what had truly happened and where she was now.
The tears continue and as they flow, our chest is torn apart, our hearts open wide towards each other and the energy flows unimpeded. For the moment, all obstacles have been removed and we become one, here in the cold and darkness, in our temporary space that tonight radiates with a rumbling vibration and the presence of the Others that have always been within us but tonight manifest openly and joyously without any reservation. In the process of invoking Tanya, we have invoked something that is greater than all three of us, and it now surrounds us from all sides.
Her gentle contact and accepting eyes, her rush towards self sacrifice, glorious in itself no matter what the human ramifications or effects, her open and warm embrace, innocent and sexual at once, it all descends on us here and breaks apart our assumptions, our old ways of being and deciding. It reminds us of microscopic knowledge that we have forgotten and which has roamed in the backwaters of our consciousness for years. The very movements of our bodies change and we dance and sing and laugh… while the rushing tears continue… and the forest itself joins in our celebration.
She is here and it is clear that we have learned from her, a subtle non verbal message that can never escape our lips and cannot be transformed into a simple statement, and that, in itself, makes it more Real.
"The Book of Tanya" records the special Jewish teachings of the Hassidic tradition and the Kabbalah. Here, in our own initial attempt at a Kabalistic invocation, we have invoked a shining girl we both knew, and through that memory, we have called forth the living spirit, the same that rushed to us through her eyes with great generosity, the same that moved the hand that recorded the teachings in a book centuries ago, the same that we will now call forth day after day, in the hope that it may once again honor us with its presence.
A spirit that has been named an endless number of times in an endless number of tongues, but which dances nameless in the Eternal chamber that is here before and after words, or ideas, or lips, or sound.

This night we say Tanya.
Not the book.
Not the girl.
Not my memories.
Not the stories.
Not the flesh.
Not the smile.
Not my friend.
Not her hands.
Not my companion.
Not me.

May she visit us often.
May she stay for a while.