Beautiful, Not Enough

 

“Beautiful, Not Enough”

I look back now at roads I rode blind,

Every truth I chased already designed.

Every faith, every rule, every way I’d roam,

Were branches reaching back toward the same home.

I drank from wells I didn’t yet name,

Called it wisdom, called it luck, called it pain.

Now I see the root beneath every belief,

And the beauty of it all cuts sharp like grief.

Because knowing the source don’t quiet the thirst,

It just shows you the hunger was there first.

It’s gorgeous to see how the pieces align,

Still my heart keeps knocking, “Not this—something fine.”

I write from the ego, loud, cracked, and proud,

And from the small whisper that won’t shout.

Two hands on the wheel, same road, same flame,

One wants the credit, one erases the name.

The travels don’t end, they deepen the ask,

They slow down the steps but harden the task.

Passion grows steady, patience grows wide,

Persistence is born where the tears don’t hide.

So I bless every step that didn’t feel right,

Every long night spent learning to wait for the Light.

It’s beautiful—yes—but beauty won’t do,

Till the goal of creation is lived through the we, not the you.

Beginning In Lo Lishma

 Beginning in Lo Lishma

I came to the work with pockets full of need,

Looking for comfort, reward, and a place to succeed.

I opened the book with myself in the frame,

And called it devotion while feeding my name.

I learned for the light, for the calm, for the gain,

For answers to soften the edges of pain.

I dressed up my ego in verses and prayer,

And told myself holiness lived over there.

I worked for protection, for heaven, for fear,

For a future reward that would finally be clear.

I said “for the Creator,” but deep in my chest,

I was measuring progress by how I felt best.

Then the work kept working and wouldn’t comply,

Each reason I leaned on would rot and run dry.

The sweetness went bitter, the fire went cold,

And every why cracked what I thought I still held.

The mirror got honest, the ground fell away,

Even “spiritual pleasure” had nothing to say.

I saw every motive I tried to defend

Was just self-love dressed up as a means to an end.

And there, in the wreckage of reasons gone thin,

A quieter question began working within:

Not what do I get and not who will I be,

But why am I doing this—if not for Thee?

Not for reward, not to rise, not to know,

Not to feel light or escape from the low.

Only because You commanded the way,

And I choose to be governed by that—come what may.

No promise of comfort, no payment in sight,

Just faith above reason, walking blind into night.

Not because it makes sense, not because it feels true,

But because You are Cause—and I answer to You.

Lo Lishma did its job, it carried me here,

Dragged all my reasons into the clear.

Now stripped of the self I kept trying to save,

I stand with one reason I never once gave:

Not me at the center, not profit or gain,

But You as the source, and Your will as the chain.

This isn’t perfection, it’s surrender made real—

Where the work stops being mine,

and You turn the wheel.

“Highway with No Exits (Hibur)”

 

“Highway with No Exits (Hibur)”

The road has no more exits, no place left to turn,

Every sign just says “Continue” while the engines burn.

The engine of ego is overheating fast,

Red lines on the dashboard screaming from the past.

The world kli is cracking right down the seam,

Not in the headlines, but inside the dream.

Systems collapsing we thought were strong,

Now even our pleasures don’t last too long.

We’re all in the same car, shoulder to shoulder,

Different accents, same weight getting colder.

Different stories, different names,

But the same old hunger driving the flames.

Some want to jump out, some want control,

Some blame the road, some blame the soul.

Some say it’s politics, some say it’s fate,

Some say it’s God, some say it’s too late.

But there are no more exits, no place to hide,

No hero to vote for, no pill for the ride.

No invention left that can save the day,

From how we learned to treat each other this way.

The breakdown is coming, not metal, not steel,

It’s a breakdown of meaning, of what we call real.

Not a flat tire, not a blown-out part,

It’s the emptiness growing inside the heart.

We open the trunk, searching for tools,

We find technology, data, and rules.

We find medicine, weapons, and schemes,

We find distractions and digital dreams.

But none of them fit what’s broken inside,

None of them answer the ache we hide.

Because the problem ain’t out on the road,

It’s the way we sit with the weight of this load.

Then at the bottom, under dust and rust,

Under every solution that failed our trust,

We find one tool we forgot how to use,

Not to fix the world — but to change how we choose.

Connection between broken hearts,

Not agreement, not playing smart.

Not tolerance, not smiling through pain,

But learning to feel the other’s chain.

Not love as a feeling, not love as a word,

But love as an action that’s quietly heard.

To place their lack before my gain,

To build a space where the Light can remain.

We don’t fix the engine, we change the driver,

We don’t escape, we dive in like a pearl diver,

We don’t get off, we don’t outrun,

We learn how to hold each other as one.

And when the ego runs out of fuel at last,

And the heart runs out of reasons from the past,

We discover the truth we refused to see:

The crash was the door to unity.

The breakdown was the invitation call,

The crisis was mercy dressed as a fall.

The highway had no exits, no end in sight,

Because it was never about escape — only Light.

Not to flee the world, not to be saved,

But to build the Creator in the space we made.

No more exits, no other art,

Only Hibur — between broken hearts.

“Only Because of You”

 

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 “Only Because of You”

I came to the work for the light and the feel,

Wanted heaven to prove this whole thing was real.

I prayed for some fire, some peace, some relief,

But I was just feeding my spiritual thief.

Then I learned You enjoy when I show up each day,

So I showed up for You — and for what You would pay.

I felt You were happy, You shined back at me,

But I still loved the echo more than the decree.

Then You took the sweetness right out of the song,

No taste in the prayer, no right, no wrong.

Still I kept dancing, no reason to stay,

Only because You wanted it that way.

Lost the reward and the feeling of near,

Lost even the smile that said “You are here.”

No warmth in the heart, no spark in the head,

Just a quiet yes where the ego was dead.

Now I don’t ask if I’m rising or falling,

If You feel close or I feel You’re stalling.

One simple motion, one simple rule,

If it gives You contentment — I’m in, I’m a fool.

You took the sweetness right out of the song,

No taste in the prayer, no right, no wrong.

Still I kept dancing, no reason to stay,

Only because You wanted it that way.

First I worked for what I could see,

Then I worked for what You’d give me,

Then I worked ‘cause You’re great and true,

Now I work — not for me — just You.

No more deals, no spiritual trade,

No more lights, no emotional grade.

Just one desire, stripped and true,

I show up, Creator — only because of You.

The Worsse We Feel (The Closer We Get)

 

The Worse We Feel (The Closer We Get)

We wake each day to do what’s right,

to walk together toward the Light,

we give, we try, we bless, we pray,

yet feel more distant every day.

We say, “How strange, we should be near,

with all these acts, with all this fear,

the Torah’s here, the spice was given,

so why’s the heart still so un-livened?”

But Baal HaSulam whispers low,

“You’re not going back, you’re learning know,

the evil wasn’t seen before,

now it’s revealed — that’s opening the door.”

First comes the truth, the crack, the pain,

the hidden will that wants to reign,

the deeper ego shows its face,

not to defeat — but to be placed.

We don’t grow worse, we grow more clear,

the dirt was always there, my dear,

the Light just shines a stronger beam,

to show us what we couldn’t see.

The sickness had to be exposed,

before the healing could be imposed,

the wound must surface, burn, and cry,

before the soul can really rise.

So when the heart feels far from home,

and every flaw is overblown,

we thank the Light for what it shows,

because revelation comes before bestowal flows.

Not falling down — we’re being taught,

not losing ground — we’re being brought,

from hidden lies to open sight,

from unseen evil into Light.

The worse it feels, the closer we stand,

to fixing the heart with a higher hand,

first see the evil, naked and true,

then comes the כוח — the כוח to renew.

The Whole Weight

 The Whole Weight

We saw a crack and thought, “That’s the fight,”

Just a little patch, we’ll seal it tight.

We grabbed our tools and went to work,

But found another hole — the same old jerk.

We fixed one wall, another fell,

Thought we escaped but rang the bell.

Twenty more inches, then twenty again,

We’re fixing the roof while drowning in rain.

We thought we carried one small load,

Just one kilo on the road.

So we bent our backs and pushed it through,

Then found another one — times two.

We cleaned one corner of the heart,

Called it truth, called it a start.

But every light that tried to shine

Showed ten more shadows in the mind.

We’re not correcting, we’re just busy,

Running in circles, drunk and dizzy.

Patching symptoms, not the core,

Sweeping dust behind the door.

But when the full weight comes to view,

And we see what the will can really do,

Not one crack, not one flaw,

But the whole damn house at war—

That’s the moment prayer is born,

Not from pride but from being torn.

Not “fix this piece” or “heal that part,”

But “Take the whole of this broken heart.”

No more lies, no measured sin,

No more “we’re almost there” again.

When the lack is finally complete,

That’s where correction finds its feet.

We don’t need strength, we don’t need tricks,

We need to see what truly needs the fix.

When the full deficiency stands in the light,

Then the Light itself makes it right.

Hidden Hand on the Wheel

“Hidden Hand on the Wheel”

I break the law, the road goes red,

I crash, I bleed, that’s what they said,

Nature don’t care, no heart, no face,

Just traffic lights in time and space.

But in the work, it’s not that way,

No clear reward for what I pray,

I give my heart, I get no sign,

Just silent nights and empty wine.

They say the sin is the punishment,

The pain itself is the instrument,

Not vengeance, not some angry throne,

But tools to build what’s still not grown.

I fall, I fail, I lose the taste,

No light, no love, just inner waste,

But Rav whispers through the dust,

“This fall is where you learn to trust.”

If You were shown in open light,

I’d sell my soul for one more sight,

I’d never choose, I’d never give,

I’d just consume the way I live.

So You conceal, You step aside,

Let me decide with nothing inside,

To love You broke, to serve You blind,

To choose You with an empty mind.

When I annul, when I let go,

I’m called Your people, this I know,

No will of mine, no private claim,

Just one desire, to serve Your Name.

But when I can’t, when I’m still me,

You help me for Your mercy’s sake, You see,

Not ‘cause I earned, not ‘cause I’m clean,

But ‘cause You’re Good behind the scene.

So every fall, I now understand,

Is still directed by Your hand,

Concealed or clear, both lead to You,

Both build the heart, both make me true.

No traffic lights in worlds above,

Just faith, just choice, just hidden love,

And in the dark, I learn to say:

“You’re good to me… even this way.”