GOOD MORNING! At some point during my teenage years I became very interested in meditation. I really have no idea why – perhaps it was because I was enamored by the idea of sitting on a comfortable chair, closing my eyes, and doing nothing.

In reality, that “nothing” could not have been further from the truth. After picking up Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan’s book Jewish Meditation – A Practical Guide and looking around at various other sources (this took some time as it was in the days before the internet), I learned that true meditation is actually hard work.

Practicing meditation was very different from anything else I had previously encountered; most journeys a person embarks upon with a specific destination in mind. However, meditation is similar to riding a stationary bicycle; it’s not about the destination but rather it’s the work that’s good for you. In that sense, it’s an ever evolving process.

It reminds me of the beginning meditation student who asked his teacher how long it would take to gain enlightenment if they practiced diligently. “Ten years,” said the teacher.

“Wow, that’s a very long time. How about if I really work hard and double my effort?”

“Twenty years.”

At its core, meditation is about directing one’s mind. The mind, left to its own devices, would flit endlessly from one random thought to another, barely pausing to absorb or even pay attention to the process. It has been described as a ship on the open sea – the captain pilots it for a few minutes in one direction, then the first mate in another, next the steward in a completely different direction, and finally the cook navigates it in the opposite direction.

This is why the Hebrew word for focus and concentration is kavana; the root word being “kivun – direction.” The goal is to direct the thought process in a certain direction. Thus, an essential element to successfully achieving proper kavana is bringing your conscious mind into the forefront of whatever activity in which you are engaged. This is also known as mindfulness.

Much of life is experienced on autopilot. In many ways this is a protective measure; if we had to intently concentrate every time we routinely drove 30 minutes back and forth from the office each day we would arrive exhausted. Our mind protects us with a series of filters. After a while, we don’t even “hear” repetitive sounds, even super annoying ones (this is the excuse that many new fathers use when it comes to their baby crying).

In the 1980’s, Miami Beach was known as God’s waiting room; the average age of a Miami Beach resident was 76. The school was located on one of the main north-south arteries and there were three hospitals on that street. When students first arrived at our school they would ask; “How can you live with these ambulance sirens all day and night?” In truth, we never even heard them. They had become part of the general background noise. Today, when I listen to recordings of classes given in the 80’s I often hear the wail of ambulance sirens in the background.

But the mind’s protective measures also come with some serious drawbacks; when we start performing mitzvot by rote, without conscious thought, they take on far less meaning. One of the main areas where this becomes a challenge is in the daily prayers. On average, observant Jews regularly spend fifteen hours a week in synagogue. Unfortunately, for many, praying in the morning is just part of the routine – it’s what they do between brushing their teeth in the morning and breakfast, with very little conscious thought given to the process of prayer.

All of us have experienced the feeling of deep annoyance when we are talking to someone and they are distracted by something. They are lost in what they are doing and usually half grunt some response or, if you’re lucky, they answer you in some halting manner. When it happens to me I almost want to introduce them to an impromptu meditation course; “I want you to take three deep, slow breaths…and then very slowly…put down your phone.”

Imagine how the Almighty feels when we do the same thing to Him during prayer – a time when we are supposed to be having a real conversation with Him, one of praise, gratitude, sorrow, etc. – and we end up just paying lip service rather than praying with mindfulness. There’s a reason that the words “rote” and “routine” are etymologically related.

We can all understand that when giving someone a gift you have to “mean it” in order for it to be “meaningful.” In other words, when giving a gift it is important to be present while presenting the present. Our acts have to be imbued with our presence to be significant. This mindfulness needs to be employed whenever we interact with someone else and, of course, when performing an act in service of the Almighty.

At the very end of this week’s Torah reading we find a prime example of this concept. The Torah commands us to put “tzitzit – tassels” on each corner of four-cornered garments (like prayer shawls). This section of the Torah is considered so important that it is included as part of the daily shema prayers and is recited at least twice daily.

“Speak to the Israelites and have them make tzitzit on the corners of their garments for all generations. And they shall place upon the tzitzit of each corner a thread of turquoise. It shall then constitute tzitzit. It shall be tzitzit for you, and you shall see it and remember all of Hashem’s mitzvot and perform them.” (Numbers 15:38-39).

This mitzvah of placing tassels on the corners of such garments is given paramount importance. In fact, according the Talmud (Menachos 43b) this mitzvah is as significant as all the other mitzvot in the Torah put together. The mitzvah is fulfilled when wearing the four cornered garment with the tzitzit on each corner.

But this is difficult to understand. The obligation to wear tzitzit only occurs when a person chooses to wear a four-cornered garment, but there is no inherent requirement to wear such a garment. This makes the mitzvah entirely avoidable, which is most incongruous for a precept that, we are taught, is equivalent in significance to all the other mitzvot of the Torah!

The great medieval Biblical commentator known as Rashi (ad loc.) says that the word tzitzit has two meanings; the first meaning is tassels. By adding the threads, we now have tassels on each corner. The second meaning of tzitzit is to peer. Tzitzit are something to look at, as the verse says; “and you shall look at it” (15:39). Rashi goes on to explain that the gematria (numerical value) of the Hebrew word tzitzit is 600 and that each corner’s tassel has five knots and eight strings – equaling the 613 mitzvot in the Torah.

Thus, the mitzvah of tzitzit is a most unusual mitzvah. The reason lies in the very fact that the purpose of tzitzit is to serve as a reminder to perform the Torah’s mitzvot. We are supposed to peer at them and be reminded. Still, how does something function as a reminder?

Consider the practice of tying a string around one’s finger in order to remind oneself of something; the string acts as a reminder solely because one does not have to wear it. In the same way, any ordinary garment would not be an effective reminder since there is nothing unusual about wearing it.

This is the secret of the tzitzit: Wearing tzitzit reminds us of the Torah’s mitzvot precisely because we are not inherently required to wear them. The fact that we have chosen to wear tzitzit is itself what creates that reminder. But that is not enough, for as Rashi explains the very word itself means to peer at it. We must actively look at the tzitzit. Why?

When discussing the turquoise thread that is added to the tassels the Talmud (Menachos 43b) explains; “The color turquoise – blue is similar to the sea, which is like the clear blue sky, which is also the color of God’s heavenly throne.” In other words, gazing at the turquoise blue thread reminds us of the Almighty’s throne and, presumably, our obligation to keep all His mitzvot.

Therefore, when we are saying the shema prayer twice daily we must not just repeat the words by rote – we must actively engage our minds by focusing on the meaning of the tzitzit and all that it recalls: the 613 mitzvot, the connection to the sea, the sky, and God’s Throne of Glory. This daily act of focusing on the purpose of the tzitzit – and the choice we make by wearing them – brings our conscious mind back into our prayers and allows them to be an effective method of communication with the Almighty.

Shlach, Numbers 13:1 - 15:41

The Jewish people received the Torah on Mt. Sinai and were ready to enter the land of Israel. There was a consensus of opinion amongst the people that we should send spies to see if it was feasible to conquer the land. Moses knew that the Almighty’s promise to give the land included a guarantee to conquer it. However, one of the principles of life, which we learn from this portion, is: the Almighty allows each of us the free will to go in the direction we choose. Even though one man and the Almighty is a majority, Moses – by Divine decree – sent out the princes of the tribes (men of the highest caliber) to spy out the land.

Twelve spies were sent. Ten came back with a report of strong fortifications and giants; they rallied the people against going up to the land. Joshua ben Nun and Calev ben Yefunah (Moses’ brother-in-law) tried to stem the rebellion, but did not succeed. The Almighty decreed 40 years of wandering in the desert, one year for each day they spied in the land of Israel. This happened on the 9th of Av, a date noted throughout Jewish history for tragedy.