Friday, October 21, 2011


"For everything there is a time and a season," proclaims King Solomon in Ecclesiastes. "A time for war, and a time for peace." Certainly the "times for war" are a dominant feature of our calendars and appointment books. We seem to be forever waging wars. There are, of course, the real wars, fought with armed troops and increasingly sophisticated weaponry. But even in times of political peace, we are constantly battling the demons that menace our material and moral well-being: we wage wars against crime, drugs, disease, illiteracy. Within, we fight personal battles against selfishness or laziness, an addiction to tobacco or a tendency to overeat. Nor does it end with the battling of evil and negative things. In school, in the workplace or in the social arena, we are constantly fighting our way to the top, constantly combating the obstacles in our quest toward greater success. We struggle to get more for our money, use our time more efficiently, develop our talents, improve our mind and refine our character. Intrinsic to our humanness is the unceasing drive to make more of ourselves, to reach beyond yesterday's attainments. Man is forever at war with the past. So even when we overcome the blatant evils which inhabit our world, even when we succeed in bringing to light the goodness that is the essential nature of G-d's creation--shall we ever experience peace and tranquility? Wherever we turn, we encounter turmoil. The solar system spins like a top, the galaxies simmer and revolve. The earth's core is aboil, its atmosphere storms, its oceans churn. Physical life is sustained by movement--the throb of the heart, the contraction and expansion of the lungs. Seemingly "inanimate" matter is a cauldron of motion on the nuclear, atomic and sub-atomic levels. Motion means change, and every change is a struggle--the struggle to vanquish the status quo and replace it with a new reality. The primary culprit responsible for this struggle is the very phenomenon of time. Time is what gives us a past to abandon, a present with which not to suffice, a future towards which to strive. Time is the mother of motion, change, and struggle; time is the canvas upon which all battles of life are etched. It would seem that as long as we exist in time, as long as our lives are defined by its pulse and flux, the battle of life will rage on. Can we transcend time? A timeless existence would be free of motion, stress and strife. But would it allow for challenge, improvement and progression? Will it ever end? Should it ever end? Based on the teachings of the Lubavitcher Rebbe 'that reveals profound truth that made me want to read it again and again. I want to share it here so others may be able to read it too and see if this quench their thirst for wisdom'. Courtesy of

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