When you leave, say hello. Sort of like summer. Summer is a season when all that surrounds you says "Hello," even though it is all in the process of leaving. Summer's drama of foliage, its pompous exhibition of fruition, color, aroma; the hustle and bustle of creatures from colorful birds to annoying insects — all represent the pinnacle of aliveness, the optimal blossoming of potential and possibility. It gives you the sense that you've arrived; you're here. Hee'nay'nee! "I am here!" In fullness, in realization. Summer is climactic in that sense. Most weddings happen during this season; lovers feel it's the "right time," or more appropriately: the "ripe" time.
Everything says "Hello" now, in summer. As it leaves. Exactly. For the very act of ripening, my friends, is simultaneously also the very act of leaving, of dissipating, of dying. Summer teaches us that the ultimate sense of aliveness is the genesis of death. The Torah never brings us farther than "almost" getting to the Holy Land. Even Creation happens with a huge burst of "almost" — as the fledgling universe churns and turns in a sea of primeval chaos, emptiness, and darkness. The evolution of the earth and all of its creatures then reaches a climactic ripening that ends life in Paradise. The evolution then starts anew and eventually reaches yet another crescendo, this time the end of life on earth with the Great Flood. Over and over again: creation and destruction, creation and destruction. The polar seasons of summer and winter is about this dynamic: genesis and nemesis, respectively. The dynamic of forces that bring about creation and forces that bring about destruction; both opposites, yet each essential for the other.
In the ancient Kabbalah (as opposed to the more popularly-taught kabbalah of our day), Creation is described as having been forged along a spiraling "breath" emanating from the Mystery of all Mysteries, the unknowable Source of all Sources, the undefinable Root of all Roots. The spiraling emanations of existence from Nothing to Something — known as Sefiro't — are poetically dramatized as follows:
"Unfathomable Depth of First Gift and
Unfathomable Depth of Afterwards;
Unfathomable Depth of Good and
Unfathomable Depth of Evil;
Unfathomable Depth of Above and
Unfathomable Depth of Beneath;
Unfathomable Depth of Place of Shining [East]
and Unfathomable Depth of Place of Blending [West];
Unfathomable Depth of Place of Concealment [North] and
Unfathomable Depth of Place of Rising"
(Sefer Yetzirah, Chapter One, Mishnah 5).
Unfathomable. Who can indeed fathom the mystery of what is above and what is below and what comes at us from the four winds, or directions. Every moment is its very own unique cauldron of genesis for us. Every moment. And all poles of opposites share the same existential arena although they in themselves do not appear similar. But it is all in appearances. The ripening fruit does not in its glorious moment of colorful and juicy fruition appear to be anywhere near the arena of death. First Gift and Aftermath are dance partners even though the nature of their appearances and their dynamics are as different as light and darkness. Yet, light and darkness, as different as they are, also make up one complete day. And without light, we would not know darkness, nor would we know darkness without light. Without good we would not know evil, and without evil we would not know good. Without sorrow we would not know joy; without joy we would not know sorrow. Everything is crucial to its opposite; everything and its opposite are one. Not the same, just one.
Winter is the time of death; genesis moves to nemesis across the process of decomposition we
like to call "Autumn," or in ancient Hebrew "Ho'tza'at Ha'sha'nah" — literally: "Exiting the transformation [or the year]." Summer, on the other hand, is
Winter's opposite, meaning also it is Winter's dance partner. Summer is here. Are we? The 12th-century Rabbi Avraham ibn Daud reminds us that with the changes in the arrangement of the stars come changes in the nature of our planet, Earth. And with changes in the nature of our planet come changes in the seasons of Nature and with the changes in the seasons of Nature come changes and shifts in the souls of all beings, stones, plants, animals, and — yes, us unsuspecting humans.
The ancient rabbis tell us how God created universes and destroyed them, created and destroyed them, until this present one came into being. I always wondered about the meaning of this teaching. The lesson of summer and what is happening inside of us at this time is one clue. One solitary clue of this deep mystery wisdom. It's not so much that many universes were made and then ditched until this one came out more viable. It's more about the inherent nature of this world, of each our personal lives as well. We are constantly journeying across the path of the cherubim with their whirling swords of fire, creating alternating moments of darkness and light,
darkness and light, darkness and light; or genesis and nemesis, genesis and nemesis, genesis and nemesis. Summer and Winter, Summer and Winter, Summer and Winter. The moment we are born, we are then also well on our way into dying. This is our existence. It is magical; it is shouting at us, beckoning us to take a moment out of our increasingly busy lives to hear it, see it, smell it, feel it — know it.
The ancient Kabbalists explained it well: God created and destroyed many universes over and over again until this one came
into being. Why? Not because it kept not coming out right. But because God is God and, not being bound by time, is simultaneously aware of future, present, and past. So God saw, knew ahead of time, with the creation of each world, that it would come to no good in the end. People would make some really lousy choices and wreak havoc and destruction, so God destroyed those worlds before they could reach that point in their potential histories.
Until this world was made. God looked into its future, again by default, and discovered hope. We would mess things up as usual, but not all the way. Enough of us would struggle hard to preserve and foster the sanctity and magic of this world, of this life. "And God saw that it was Good..." "And Noah found favor in the eyes of God" etc., etc.
Summer is a powerful time. It is a dramatic reminder to us of our incredible potential in this lifetime, on this earth, in this universe, to really make it happen, to really make it work. This time around it's for keeps.
Have an enjoyable, meaningful, ever-deepening summer. May your lives ripen to crescendos that will catapult you across the chasms of uncertainty to a totally-renewed sense of clarity and beauty by the advent of the next Spring season
I read of a man who stood to speak 
