- ב"ה - Daily Dose
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By Tzvi Freeman
High upon her precipice, the soul is nameless, for she has no form—she will be whatever she must be.
Peering below, beneath the clouds, she perceives a faint shimmering of her light in the deep, wet earth. There she finds form, and she calls it a name, and she is called when that name is called, for she says, “This is me.”
But it is not her. It is only a faint glimmering of her light within the frame of a distant world.
By Tzvi Freeman
From the wisdom of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, of righteous memory; words and condensation by Rabbi Tzvi Freeman. Subscribe and get your dose daily. Or order Rabbi Freeman’s book, Bringing Heaven Down to Earth, click here.
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