A Prayer the 99% Don't Know They're Saying

 

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A Prayer the 99% Don’t Know They’re Saying

We heard there’s a Torah, rules carved in the sky,

Six hundred thirteen ways to live, or to die.

Two kinds, they say—some yes, some no,

But nobody taught us how the inside should go.

They told us, “Do good. Don’t cross the line.”

“Be careful. Be proper. Be holy. Be fine.”

So we learned how to stop, how to shut, how to hide,

But no one explained what to do with the fire inside.

Two hundred forty-eight say, Stand up and give,

Move your heart forward, choose how you live.

Three sixty-five say, Don’t take for yourself,

Hold back the ego, put it back on the shelf.

But here’s where we stumble, here’s where we freeze—

We stop doing wrong… then stop doing anything.

We call it control, we call it restraint,

But slowly our color all turns into paint.

We withdraw from the fight, withdraw from the mess,

Withdraw from the love that demands our “yes.”

We don’t steal, don’t shout, don’t cross the line—

But we also don’t give, don’t risk, don’t shine.

We sit there thinking, “At least I’m clean,”

While our heart grows distant, quiet, unseen.

No harm, no sin, no obvious crime—

Just a life untouched by connection or time.

They call it adhesion—clinging to what’s real,

Not escaping the world, but learning to feel.

Not floating away, not hiding in law,

But loving through limits, with awe and with flaw.

Because stopping desire was never the goal,

The goal was to aim it, to give it a soul.

If restraint makes you smaller, colder, alone,

That’s not holiness—that’s fear wearing a crown.

So here’s the prayer we never learned how to say:

“Teach me to stop taking—but not walk away.

Teach me to hold back—but still stay near.

Teach me to love without using or fear.”

Let my “don’t” guard my heart, not lock it tight.

Let my “do” bring warmth, not ego or might.

Let my silence be chosen, not born from retreat.

Let my steps move toward others, not back to my seat.

If I’ve been calling withdrawal ‘being wise,’

Open my eyes, Creator—gently, not hard.

I don’t want to be right while my heart disappears.

I want adhesion that shows up in years.

Not above life.

Not outside the room.

But inside the struggle, where love learns to bloom.

Amen—

not from the mouth,

but from the place that still wants to belong.

Striking The Screen

 

“Striking the Screen”

Thoughts hit my skull like a hammering rain,

Round and around, same doubt, same pain.

If this was false I’d sleep just fine,

But truth don’t rest where the ego signs.

The mind demands proof, a reason, a feel,

It wants a receipt, something stamped as real.

But the screen stands firm, I swallow the blow,

Faith clenched tight where the answers won’t show.

No sweetness here, no glow, no spark,

Just grit in my teeth and a walk in the dark.

I don’t feel the King, don’t taste His weight,

Yet I stay on the road and don’t renegotiate.

Every strike says “quit,” every whisper says “bend,”

But the screen says “hold” and I won’t rescind.

Above reason I crown Him, silent and still,

And that hidden choice fills the upper will.

No more, no less — exact is the law,

What I raise above mind returns as awe.

First in concealment I pay the price,

Then truth descends, measured, precise.

So beat me with thoughts, let the whole world shout,

This screen stays standing — that’s what joy’s about.

Reason Is The Next Wall

 

Reason Is the Next Wall

I climbed above reason and thought I arrived,

The pain got quieter, my hope felt alive.

The darkness retreated, the doubts took a seat,

I said, “This must be faith,” then faith turned to deceit.

What once was belief became comfort and ground,

The edge disappeared, no danger I found.

My reason got dressed in spiritual clothes,

And stopped me from climbing where real faith goes.

The Creator withdrew, not out of neglect,

But to show me the trap of what I call correct.

What lifted me yesterday, today blocks the way,

And demands I rise higher or honestly pray.

I cannot jump alone, the height is too steep,

My reason screams safety, my ego says sleep.

Only the Ten, pulling hard on my soul,

Can drag me beyond my imagined control.

Again we rise, and again it will fall,

Each new reason turning into the next wall.

Until nothing is left that I call “me,”

And between us appears what they call Dvekut — free.

Between Two Worlds Is Prayer

 

Between Two Worlds Is Prayer

We walk this world with our feet in the dust,

Hearts full of cracks but a stubborn trust.

This state feels heavy, the nights feel long,

Yet something keeps whispering, hold on, stay strong.

We dream of a place where the heart is not torn,

Where love of the friends feels natural, born.

Not clouds or crowns or a heavenly view,

Just hearts stitched together, simple and true.

This world pulls inward, the ego’s demand,

The next pulls outward — take your friend’s hand.

Between the two states, no clever repair,

Only a cry rising up called prayer.

Not prayers of comfort, not prayers for ease,

But prayers to bend where the ego won’t please.

To see my brother as higher than me,

To beg for the strength just to let him be free.

If I fall today, let it be for the Ten,

If I rise tomorrow, let it lift them again.

No world to escape, no future to flee,

Just learning to love — that’s eternity.

When Prayer Can't Pray

 

“When Prayer Can’t Pray”

I came with words, I came with need

I came believing You would lead

I knocked so hard my knuckles bled

And heaven stayed completely dead

My mouth went dry, my heart went cold

The body laughed, you’ve prayed — you’re old

“Look at the years, look at the cost

Every request already lost”

I knew You help, I knew it’s true

But knowing didn’t pull me through

The bitter herb stayed in my throat

I swallowed prayers — they wouldn’t float

Then faith collapsed, not You — just me

No strength to ask, no will to plea

So here I stood, stripped of disguise

With nothing left but empty eyes

And in that place so dark, so bare

I found one thing that still was there

A cry not shaped, a plea undone

“Help me to pray — I have none”

No answer came, no sudden light

Just one more step against my sight

To trust You hear, though I don’t feel

To pray against what looks real

This is the work — not hope that sees

But standing broke upon my knees

When prayer dies and still I stay

That is the faith above the way

Not in the Ten

 

“Not in the Ten”

I sat alone and told myself I’m fine,

Held thoughts a little longer, felt divine.

I watched the mind behave, the heart grow still,

And called it spirit—by my own free will.

But Rav’s voice cut through my clever lie,

“That’s not the soul—just flesh dressed up to fly.”

No matter how refined the feeling seems,

Alone it’s body, not the higher means.

I measured silence, counted breaths and hours,

Admired the ego polishing its powers.

I felt improved, more focused, calm and clean,

But none of it was born between.

For spirit doesn’t live where “I” reside,

It breathes where self-concern has truly died.

Not in my thoughts, not in my private gain,

But where my heart submits to shared pain.

The Ten is not a comfort, club, or tool,

It’s where the ego’s forced to look the fool.

Where I can’t hide behind my inner peace,

Where self-made holiness is brought to cease.

Alone, I choose what effort I’ll allow,

With friends, the truth confronts me now.

Their faces crack my fortress made of thought,

Expose the love I’ve never truly sought.

So if I feel uplifted, calm, or bright,

Yet stand outside the Ten—then Rav is right.

No matter how it dresses, sounds, or glows,

That work is still the body… not the soul.

And now a lack is burning in my chest,

Not for insight—but to rejoin the test.

To lose myself where something real can start,

One heart with many bodies—one man, one heart.

No Where to Run (Cup Full of Lack)

 I knocked on every gate I knew by name

Each one swore light would end the shame

I studied, prayed, I bent my will

Still found my cup was empty still

I trusted verses, plans, and signs

I counted steps, I drew the lines

I followed every rule they gave

Still stood alone beside the grave

I tried belief, it wouldn’t stay

It packed its bags and walked away

I tried despair, it lied to me

Said, “At least now you clearly see”

But clarity just burned my hands

No truth to stand on, no commands

No forward step, no past retreat

Just hollow ground beneath my feet

I begged for help — the words felt fake

My prayer itself began to shake

No warmth, no tears, no holy sound

Just silence pressing all around

I wanted proof You heard my cry

The heavens stayed completely dry

So there I stood with nothing left

Not strong, not broken — only cleft

And in that crack, where nothing fits

Where even hope admits it quits

I stayed — not brave, not pure, not sure

Just stayed… and somehow that was prayer

No faith to claim, no lie to dress

No strength except my helplessness

If You are good — then let it be

Not felt, not seen — just done through me

I bring You not a shining cup

Just all the ways I’ve given up

If this is loss — then take it too

If this is death — then birth me new

Born From The Crack In The Will To Receive

 Born From the Crack

We studied the words, we nodded our head

We thought we were living, but mostly we read

Pages turned clean, yet nothing had changed

Till the Light came quiet and rearranged

The ego stood tall, said “I got this just fine”

Built castles of logic, reason, and time

Then something inside me started to bend

Not wisdom, not answers—just no way to pretend

A crack in the armor, a tremble in will

I wanted connection but couldn’t be still

The heart felt exposed, stripped naked and raw

No speeches, no prayers, no clever Torah

I saw my own distance, my love made of trade

How often I gave just to feel I was paid

The friends looked the same, but I wasn’t the same

Something new stood silent, calling my name

It hurt like a loss, like ground giving way

Like yesterday’s truths couldn’t help me today

But deep in the breaking, a whisper was born

Not from my strength—but where I was torn

This wasn’t a thought I could store on a shelf

It came when I stopped trying to save myself

A need for the Ten, not poetic, not sweet

A hunger no ego could package or beat

And that’s how it happens, no fireworks loud

No badge of honor, no spiritual crown

Just a new little vessel, fragile and real

Born where I failed—and started to feel

So don’t fear the darkness, the stumble, the fall

That’s where the Creator reshapes it all

Every true change leaves reason in lack

An innovation… born from the crack

The Soul Knows Before The Mind

 

The Soul Knows Before the Mind

We open the book and the words feel dry,

Ten Sefirot speaking way up in the sky.

My mind starts barking, “You don’t belong,”

“You don’t get a thing—move along.”

But the work never asked for clever or smart,

It asked for a grip with a trembling heart.

Not grasping the map, not seeing the road,

Just standing still where the Light is bestowed.

The ego screams loud, “You’re wasting your time,”

“These worlds make no sense, these lines don’t rhyme.”

But the soul stays quiet, steady, and sure,

Drinking what reason could never secure.

Fear says, “If you don’t get it, you’re lost,”

Faith says, “Sit still—this growth has a cost.”

Not coins, not pride, not intellectual gain,

But the burning surrender of not having a name.

Each word hits places I cannot define,

Not entering thought, but carving the spine.

Something is moving, aligning inside,

While reason stands helpless, stripped of its pride.

The system is faithful, exact, and alive,

It feeds what the soul needs—not what I derive.

So I shut up the judge, the critic, the thief,

And stay in the room with a thread of belief.

Understanding comes later—after the break,

After the ego’s no longer awake.

First comes the Light, unseen but precise,

Then comes the knowing—paid for in price.

So I listen, confused, yet rooted and still,

Not chasing a concept, but bowing my will.

Because growth isn’t proof, and truth isn’t loud—

The soul learns best when the mind isn’t proud.

 

“Something New Was Born”

I woke up heavy, same old fight,

Same damn thoughts that swear they’re right.

I did the work, I played the role,

But nothing moved inside the soul.

I prayed the words, I showed my face,

But joy wouldn’t enter this stubborn place.

I blamed the road, I blamed the men,

I blamed the world, not once the “I” within.

Then it hit me hard — like Shamati warned,

Joy ain’t a gift, it’s a sign you’re reborn.

Not smart, not strong, not feeling wise,

But faith that walks with blinded eyes.

No joy means still the same old me,

Polishing chains, calling it “free.”

But one small crack — a hairline bend,

Where self let go for the sake of the Ten.

No fireworks, no holy glow,

Just choosing bestowal when reason said “no.”

And there it was — quiet, clear,

A newborn point the ego fears.

Joy crept in — not loud, not proud,

But real as tears that aren’t allowed.

Not from knowing, not from control,

But something new carved in the soul.

So if I’m dry, I don’t pretend,

I don’t accuse the road or friends.

I ask one thing, again, again:

“Creator — renew me for the Ten.”

the Heart That Lies

 

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 “The Heart That Lies”

Don’t trust the heart that sweetly cries,

It dresses up the truth in lies.

It swears it feels what must be right,

But sells you darkness dressed as light.

The ego whispers, calm and wise,

“I know the way—just close your eyes.”

It points to feelings, warm and deep,

Then robs the work while you still sleep.

A burning chest, a trembling tear,

Is not a sign the truth is near.

The liar lives in holy tone,

Convincing you you’re not alone.

The heart was built to want, not see,

It bends the law to serve the “me.”

Without a screen, without a guide,

It takes the reins and calls it pride.

The friends are where the truth is weighed,

Not in the storms the ego made.

Above the heart, above its cry,

Faith walks where feelings fear to try.

I don’t erase the heart’s desire,

I bind it to a higher fire.

Not what I feel decides my way,

But what we build from day to day.

So let the lying heart complain,

Let ego scream and pull the chain.

I ride with faith, not inner noise,

The Ten decide—not fleeting joys.

I Trust The System

 

Title: “I Trust the System”

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I don’t feel love, I feel the grind

A thousand doubts assault the mind

Yet something deeper holds the reins

A silent truth that still remains

Not hope, not mood, not lifted heart

But knowing where the laws all start

Baal HaSulam drew the design

Cause and effect, precise, aligned

The Light reforms, the vessel lacks

The Ten reveals the inner cracks

I don’t invent, I don’t pretend

I trust the road the sages penned

Rabash said walk where you don’t feel

Where every urge says this ain’t real

But stay because the system’s true

Not because it feels good to you

This isn’t faith that floats on air

It’s weight that keeps me standing there

A frequency beneath the thought

That whispers truth when nothing’s taught

I don’t feel bestowal in my chest

I feel resistance put to test

But deeper still, below the pain

I know this work is not in vain

So prayer is born not from despair

But trust the Light is always there

The lack is real, the law is fixed

Correction comes — not chance, but mix

Heart screams run, mind says fake

But faith says stay — don’t disengage

Not blind belief, but inner sight

That knows the system works by Light

We Are Not Here To Comfort You

 We Are Not Here to Comfort You

We are not here to warm your heart,

Or play the role of some soft start.

We are not mirrors for your pain,

Nor proof your inner work’s “insane.”

We will not shine when you arrive,

Or stroke the spark that wants to thrive.

We won’t reward your tears or fire,

Or bow to depth, or gift, or wire.

We are the place your heart resists,

Where nothing moves and nothing lifts.

Where all are equal, stripped and plain,

And staying costs more than the gain.

Here no one’s special, wide, or deep,

Here only promises we keep.

Not with emotion, not with sound,

But with our feet stuck to the ground.

If you remain when warmth is gone,

When every reason says move on,

Then without knowing how or when,

Your heart belongs — not you — but Ten.

And when the Light at last appears,

It won’t feel earned, or owed, or clear.

It will arrive because we stayed,

While self was silent… and love was made.

The Heart That Won't Open (For the Sake of Connection)

 The Heart That Won’t Open (For the Sake of Connection)

The heart won’t open when warmth is near,

It opens where there’s nothing to feel but fear.

Not fear of pain, or loss, or shame,

But losing the right to remain the same.

It beats just fine for a song or a scene,

For heroes redeemed and what might have been.

Tears flow easy when stories resolve,

When good beats bad and the plot evolves.

But place that heart among equal men,

No spotlight, no crown, no “better than,”

And suddenly silence fills the chest,

No fire, no tears, no sweetness left.

Because here no one claps, no ending is shown,

No one is special, no one alone.

Here love is demanded without reward,

Here warmth is built, not felt or adored.

The heart resists not hatred or strife,

But surrendering authorship over its life.

It trembles where no emotion appears,

Where choice replaces joy, and faith replaces tears.

So it locks itself tight, not out of spite,

But to guard the self from dissolving outright.

For love of friends costs more than belief—

It costs the self, stripped bare of relief.

And yet, right there, in the hollow and dry,

Where no one feels and no reasons apply,

A space is carved, unseen, unheard,

Prepared for a Light that’s never inferred.

Not warmth that arrives to comfort the soul,

But truth that appears when the many are whole.

And when that heart breaks — not open, but through —

Connection is born, quiet, real, and true.

Working In Joy

 WORKING IN JOY

I don’t work for pay

I don’t work for praise

I don’t work for light

Or better days

I work ‘cause truth

Still needs a hand

I work ‘cause love

Needs boots on land

The ego talks

Still plays its game

But now it works

Inside the frame

The road ain’t gone

The load ain’t light

But joy shows up

And walks it right

Not ‘cause I see

Not ‘cause I know

But ‘cause the work

Still gets me home

The Gate Was Never Locked

 The Gate Was Never Locked

the thoughts are not the crime

its not blocking them in time

the desires are not at fault

its not locking them in a vault

the crime is saying this is me

confusing noise with identity

the crime is crowning every scream

and calling ego truth supreme

the mind throws stones the heart takes blows

the ego grins it always knows

how to accuse how to pretend

then sell the wound as who I am

a thought appears unasked unclean

a flash of dark a brutal scene

that alone is not the fall

the fall is trusting it at all

desire burns it wants the crown

it wants me flat it wants me down

but wanting is not where I break

I break when I agree and take

the block is not the inner storm

the block is naming it the norm

the lock is not the urge that cries

the lock is buying all its lies

the ego says this proves your state

you’re late you’re weak you sealed your fate

the soul says stand don’t run don’t fight

just aim the heart above the sight

I do not wrestle thought or lust

I do not call them sin or dust

I watch I breathe I don’t obey

I lift the aim another way

the work begins where I can see

this noise was never truly me

and in that gap the heart can cry

not fix me lord but lift me high

the ten becomes my living ground

where strength is asked not self-found

the thoughts still roar desires burn

but now they teach and now they turn

the ego guards the gate in fear

yet every knock brings help more near

for every fall that I endure

reveals where faith becomes secure

The Guard At The Gate

 The Guard At The Gate

I cursed the wall I could not climb

Said ego stole my prayer and time

I swung at shadows, fought the dark

Blamed every bruise on missed the mark

I said the gate was slammed shut tight

That heaven hid itself from sight

I screamed “You block me!” loud and wild

Like a betrayed and starving child

The ego laughed but never lied

It said “I guard what burns inside

If I step back before you’re ready

You’ll shatter fast — not slow and steady”

I wanted love without the grind

Connection cheap, no change of mind

But love don’t grow where comfort stays

It’s born in fire, delay, and gray

So ego pressed me to the wall

Not out of hate — but lest I fall

It held the weight I couldn’t bear

Until I learned to ask — not tear

Each failure drilled me into prayer

Each fall exposed another layer

Each block was mercy dressed as pain

Each no was yes in deeper grain

I saw at last with broken pride

The ego stood right by my side

A brutal guard with gentle aim

Breaking the vessel — not the flame

So now I bow where I once fought

Thank every wound the ego brought

For every shove that broke my lie

Made room for truth to finally cry

3 H's On A Texas Road

 3 H's On A Texas Road

To open one’s heart is a dangerous thing

It needs the Three H’s to give it a sting

Hitbatlute hits first, it cuts to the bone

Annulment of self, you stand alone

No crown, no opinion, no right to be smart

Just dust in the hands of a merciful art

Bend your neck low, let the ego depart

There’s no other gate to a truthful start

Then Hitkalelute comes crashing inside

Inclusion with friends, nowhere to hide

Their lack is your lack, their cry is your sin

A heart gets no rest when the many move in

You fall into them, not warm, not clean

Scraped by their mirrors, exposed and seen

But somewhere in that mutual pain

A new kind of strength begins to remain

Then Hitpahalute quietly appears

Enlivened hearts stitched together with tears

Not joy from reward, not fire from pride

But life that awakens when self has died

The heart starts to beat with a rhythm not mine

One pulse, one hunger, one shared design

No longer asking what’s in it for me

Just living inside what we’re meant to be

Three blows, one heart, one widening door

Annul, include, enliven—then soar

This is the work that the wise ones knew

The heart is rebuilt only passing through

Steel and Silence

 

Steel and Silence

I ride a Harley, wind in my face,

Long black road, no marked-out place.

The motor roars but the heart goes still,

Steel keeps moving when the soul won’t feel.

Some miles are smooth, some shake the bone,

Some rides you feel you’re riding alone.

The road didn’t break, the bike didn’t stall,

Just a quiet distance I can’t outrun at all.

The ego says, Something’s wrong with you,

Fix the feeling, change the view.

But Rav once said, That lack’s not yours,

It’s a crack in the bond, not a personal flaw.

I don’t pull over to polish the chrome,

Don’t tear down the bike, don’t call it home.

I carry the rattle, don’t curse the sound,

That noise belongs to the whole damn ground.

A slight disconnection, a whisper of cold,

Is not my failure, not truth being told.

It’s the ten tapping me on the shoulder,

Hold this piece — we’ll lift it together.

So I don’t ride louder, don’t twist the gas,

Don’t make a drama out of the past.

I aim the lack where the brothers stand,

Turn distance upward — that’s raising MAN.

No fix for the heart, no mood to chase,

Just give the burden a higher place.

Steel rolls on, the road stays wide,

The bike don’t pray — but the rider does inside.

And if the ride feels empty and bare,

No warmth, no rush, no signal flare,

That’s when the work is heavy and true,

When nothing feels good — and you still give it through.

No badge for this, no biker’s pride,

Just faith above reason, throttle steady, ride.

What breaks in me is not for me,

It’s fuel for the bond — that’s the work I see.

When the Work Begins

 When The Work Begins

A person turns the heart to unity

Not for reward, but for annulled purity

Before the aim can settle in place

The mind erupts, demanding its case

Thoughts strike hard, precise, and loud

Disguised as logic, sharp and proud

Doubt wears reason, fear wears truth

Urgency screams, stripping the proof

The heart pulls forward, simple and bare

The mind pulls sideways, filled with care

Each claims to guard the proper way

Each swears the other leads astray

This split is not a flaw or sin

It is where the work must now begin

For the will to receive shows its face

Only when bestowal takes its place

A person learns not to argue inside

Not to choose which voice should decide

The work is not to silence the fight

But to lift both hands toward the Light

Then comes a request without demand

No proof in mind, no strength in hand

Align the heart, align the thought

Not for self, for what we sought

Let the mind serve what the heart sees

Let the heart rise above what is

Not to escape, not to pretend

But to bind both ends to a single end

When heart and mind agree to ask

The split itself completes the task

For unity is born this way

Through resistance that learns to pray

From the Article These Candles Are Sacred

THESE CANDLES ARE SACRED

I light the flame

but I don’t touch

Hands tied back

heart clenched shut

These candles burn

not for my gain

I only look

I swallow pain

I want reward

I want to feel

But Hanukkah says

Stand still. Kneel.

These lights are holy

Not mine to use

No payment given

No borrowed juice

I don’t eat Light

I don’t get paid

I stare at Truth

until I fade

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The Greeks in me

start clearing their throat

“Does this make sense?”

they take a vote

They want logic

proof and taste

They smash my walls

call faith a waste

They break my towers

brick by brick

Say “bow to reason”

call faith a trick

But towers rise

where reason dies

Above the mind

the heart replies

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Faith above reason

is a wall, not a dream

It guards the tower

where greatness is seen

I shrink my mind

lower my head

That’s where the Light

gets clothed instead

The higher He gets

the lower I fall

I see my dirt

I see it all

The closer He comes

the worse I feel

I see my ego

raw and real

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I wanted Purim

wine and cheer

Bodies saved

feast and beer

But Hanukkah whispers

“Not yet, son

Half the war

has just begun”

I parked the fight

Hanu-Koh

Not ‘cause it’s done

but strength can grow

This rest ain’t peace

It’s ammo stored

So I can face

the deeper war

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My will to take

burns bitter black

Gevurot scream

“Don’t give it back”

Receiving hurts

when self is king

Distance tastes

like suffering

But when I take

to give Him joy

The bitterness

turns sweet, my boy

The same desire

same damn fire

Now aimed to love

not to acquire

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I see my lowliness

like trash and ash

Why help me, Lord?

I’m cracked, I crash

If others knew

what I’ve been shown

They’d run this path

and leave me prone

Yet here You are

hand stretched wide

Welcoming

the criminal inside

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The mountain grows

with every climb

Thoughts stack high

doubting time

The righteous drown

in rising hills

While wicked float

on paper thrills

But I’ve been lifted

from the bin

Trash was my diet

ego my skin

Now every doubt

every fall

Builds the wall

that guards it all

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I won’t demand

to understand

I won’t wait

for mind’s command

I won’t say “Now

it makes sense to serve”

That path is theft

a crooked curve

I’ll work above

what I can see

Because that’s where

You come to me

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So light the flame

and don’t consume

Stand in awe

inside the gloom

These candles teach

a brutal truth

Greatness comes

when faith is youth

And only prayer

keeps me alive

Above reason

is how I survive