The War In The Heart

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The War In The Heart

We live in the moment, but exist in our thoughts

We engage in the war, with many battles fought

Never realizing the battles in the heart

Is where every true victory starts

We blame the world, the noise, the pain

The bills, the phones, the loss, the rain

But the real fight hides deep inside

Where ego rules and truth must hide

I wake up early, coffee in hand

Smile on my face, barely can stand

I join the lesson, camera on

While inside me the war goes on

I want to love, I want to give

But I also want what helps me live

Two voices pulling, night and day

One says “take,” the other “pray”

The heart is a field where armies meet

Desire and faith, retreat and repeat

And every friend is a mirror I see

Showing the war that lives in me

When I fall, the Ten lifts me up

When I’m empty, they fill my cup

Not with answers, not with blame

But shared effort, loss, and flame

So I don’t run from the inner fight

I bring it to friends, into the light

Because the war was never “out there,” my friend

It’s the heart we correct—together—till the end

Four Phases Before Sundaown

Verse 1 – Keter (Morning / Awakening)

I wake up stirred by a whisper I can’t name

Coffee still brewing, heart already in flame

Didn’t ask for this pull, didn’t plan this call

Something inside says, “Get up — that’s all”

The light comes first, no question, no why

Just a tap on the soul as the day goes by

No merit, no effort, no crown on my head

Just breath in my chest and a path ahead

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Verse 2 – Chokhmah (Early Day / Inspiration)

I feel it rush in, I’m alive and I’m strong

Everything’s clear, nothing feels wrong

The lesson hits hard, the friends feel close

I swear to myself, “This time I’ll coast”

I want it all, every spark, every taste

Fill me up fast, don’t let it go to waste

But the more I receive, the less I can see

This light ain’t mine — it’s carrying me

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Verse 3 – Binah (Midday / Resistance)

Then comes the weight, like a hand on my chest

Suddenly stopping, suddenly rest

I don’t wanna take, I don’t wanna lie

If He’s the Giver — then who am I?

I pull back hard, build walls in my mind

Trying to resemble, trying to align

Feels like retreat, feels cold and thin

But this is restraint learning how to begin

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Chorus – The Ten (Anchor)

It ain’t my strength, it ain’t my plan

I fall apart till I reach for the Ten

When the light burns hot or the day goes dim

I don’t walk alone — I walk with them

From morning fire to midnight cry

We hold the line when the ego lies

If I can’t stand, they lend me sight

The Ten turns darkness into light

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Verse 4 – Zeir Anpin (Afternoon / Choice)

Now I move dry, no song in my feet

Still showin’ up, still takin’ a seat

No sweet reward, no holy thrill

Just doin’ the work against my will

I think of the friends, not how I feel

That thought alone makes something real

This ain’t desire, this ain’t grace

This is direction holdin’ its place

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Verse 5 – Malchut (Evening / Ego Exposed)

By sundown hits, the truth stands tall

I want it all — control, light, all

Envy and pride come out to play

Every ugly thought earned its say

I see who I am when the shine is gone

Every excuse I’ve been leanin’ on

No mask survives the end of the day

Just a broken want that learned how to pray

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Final Chorus – Prayer

It ain’t fix me, save me, make me right

It’s bind our hearts through this night

Take all this want I can’t defend

And turn it into love for the Ten

From Keter’s call to Malchut’s plea

You wrote this whole damn day in me

If I fall apart, then so be it then

Break me open — connect us — Amen

Learning To Love (With The Ten)

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Learning to Love (With The Ten)

I've traveled the world, and fought with might

I've sailed the seas, searching for light

But through my journeys, filled with plight

Learning to love is what fills my sight

Joining the Ten of courageous men

Who fight to the last of what’s within

Each battle a chance to finally see

The evil nature inside of me

I thought the war was out there to win

With fists, with pride, with borrowed sin

But every road I tried to outrun

Led back to the war I hadn’t begun

The enemy spoke with my own voice

Dressed every demand up as “choice”

He quoted truth to justify theft

And called it faith when nothing was left

In the Ten I broke, in the Ten I fell

Every friend a mirror of hell

Not hell of fire, but self-concern

Where every desire just wants return

Yet there—right there—in the shared despair

A quiet force filled the air

Not power, not pride, not being right

Just hearts agreeing to aim at Light

We lost ourselves, and something grew

A strength no victory ever knew

Not one above, not one below

Just learning how to bestow

Now every fall is a holy sign

Another place to draw the line

Not against the world, the flesh, the sea—

But the rule of self inside of me

I don’t ask to win, I ask to serve

To love where my nature has nerve

If this is the war till my final breath,

Then let it end in love—not death.

Responsibility For The Ten

Responsibility For The Ten

We wake and shower and dress

We say our prayers before looking at the mess

We look at the messages from the ten

And wake up again… and begin

Bills on the table, phone in the hand

Another long day we didn’t plan

The ego screams, “Just take care of you”

But the heart remembers what it’s here to do

The mind wants quiet, comfort, escape

The path wants effort, connection, and faith

I want to run, disappear, pretend

But my soul is tied to the friends

When one is heavy, we all feel the weight

When one is late, we all learn to wait

No one escapes this invisible thread

We rise or we fall by the words that are said

It’s not about strength, wisdom, or skill

It’s showing up when you don’t have the will

A message, a prayer, a simple “I’m here”

Can pull a friend out of darkness and fear

The Creator hides in the space between

My broken heart and the ten unseen

I don’t fix them, I don’t know how

I just choose them—again—right now

Every problem that lands in my day

Is an invitation to relate

Not “Why me?” and not “Make it stop”

But “How do I carry the ten to the top?”

I fall, I forget, I drift, I complain

Then remember—this pain isn’t vain

It sharpens the need, exposes the lie

That I was ever meant to try alone and survive

Responsibility isn’t control or command

It’s holding a friend with an open hand

I cancel a little, I listen some more

And suddenly the heart finds a door

This is the work—no halo, no fame

Just loving the ten through joy and shame

And when I fail, which I surely will

I come back again… because that’s the deal

“Seventy Names, One King”

Title: “Seventy Names, One King”

I didn’t come holy, I came in pieces,

Seventy hungers with crooked leases.

Each one screaming, “I matter first,”

Each one dressed as a blessing or curse.

Chesed gives so it can be seen,

Gevurah cuts like a judgment machine.

Tiferet cries, “Why me again?”

Netzach must win, even over friends.

Hod bows low but keeps the score,

Yesod binds tight just to need you more.

Malchut sits heavy, empty, and loud,

Says, “Fill me now,” with its head unbowed.

I tried to crush them, starve them, deny,

But the ego don’t die — it just learns to lie.

So the work got honest, bitter, and real:

I stopped fixing myself and started to feel.

Each flaw rose up between me and you,

That’s how I knew what the Klipa can do.

Not to destroy me, not to disgrace—

But to beg for a place in the light of His face.

So I gather the mess, the envy, the blame,

All seventy voices, every name.

I don’t clean them — I lift them whole:

“Creator, clothe this will to receive in soul.”

The Path of Truth

The Path of Truth

The point in my heart woke me up one day,

Not with trumpets or fire—just a quiet tug to pray.

I still had bills, flat tires, coffee gone cold,

Kids, work, aches, the same stories retold.

I thought the call meant peace, a softer road,

But life got heavier—I felt the load.

One problem hit, then another right through,

Not to break me apart, but to show what is true.

I lost my temper in traffic, pride at my job,

Got hurt by a word, then hurt back like a slob.

Nothing dramatic, no lightning or flame,

Just ego uncovered, again and again.

Every calamity showed me my face,

How I want to receive, how little I place

The friends before me, the goal before “me,”

How far my heart is from what it should be.

The car breaks down, the money runs thin,

Someone in the ten rubs salt in my skin.

I want to run, to be right, to be free—

And there it is: the real enemy.

Not the boss, not the wife, not fate or the day,

But the voice inside saying, “You come first—always.”

Each fall builds a hunger, a deeper request,

Not for comfort or calm, but to rise above self.

Slowly I learn why the pain shows its face:

To grow my deficiency, widen the space

Where love of the friends can finally sit,

Where the Creator can enter—bit by bit.

I stop asking “Why me?” and start asking “How?”

How do I help the ten, right here, right now?

How do I bow when my ego screams “Stand!”

How do I give with an empty hand?

This path isn’t pretty, it’s dusty and real,

Made of small choices, not flashes of zeal.

But every hard moment, wrapped gently in love,

Pushes my heart toward what’s waiting above.

From the first quiet call to Dvekut so true,

Every blow was a gift meant to shape something new.

This is the truth, simple, steady, and rough—

We’re broken on purpose…

so love is enough.

The Klipa Smiles

Everything is calculated down to the tee

The Klipa won’t let us see

Just what an ass we truly are

About calling on the Creator—instead we see stars

We polish excuses, call ego “insight,”

Mistake imagination for spiritual light

We chase sensations, halos, and signs,

While dodging the work that shatters the spine

We say “I prayed,” but we never got low,

Never begged from the place we refuse to show

We asked for comfort, for peace, for relief,

Not for exposure of rootless belief

The Klipa smiles, says, “You’re doing just fine,”

Feeds us pride dressed up as the Divine

It hates one thing—raw honest lack,

Where a man admits, “I don’t know the track.”

The Creator waits—not in stars or dreams,

But in the crack where the ego screams

When there’s nothing left to hide or pretend,

That’s where the prayer can finally ascend

So yes—it’s measured, weighed, and exact,

Every fall tailored to break the act

Blessed is the blow that kills the lie,

And leaves one request that cannot deny

“Not knowledge. Not light. Not how I feel.

Just give me a heart that wants what’s real.”