the weight of the soul

In biblical times, the monetary unit of the Israelites of that time was called “SHEKEL”. Word “SHEKEL” means “LESTER” – like our currency, the Argentine peso and several American currencies – since it represented the literal weight in gold of this currency. The SHEKEL has gone through the millennia and is currently also the name of the currency of the modern state of Israel.

The story goes that during the journey of the Israelites liberated from Egypt through the desert, Moses decided to take a census. But the text indicates that people should not be counted. By reducing a human being to a number, we dehumanize him. Turning a story into a simple mathematical narrative renders the identity and purpose of this life invisible. This is why Moses prescribes that each person should give half a SHEKEL, half a coin. What would be counted would be coins, not people. That way, everyone counted equally. Each offering made her say at the same time that she could count on her.

Going deeper into the text, we see that the offering was not only material. Each Hebrew letter is also equivalent to a number, so words have a value made up of the sum of their letters. This is how the mystics discovered that the sum of the letters of the word “SHEKEL” is exactly the same as that of another Hebrew word, the word “NEFESH” which means: “SOUL”. The offering was not just half a piece, but a fraction of the soul.

The Hasidic masters teach us that when we are born, only half of our soul is given to us from heaven. The other half must be sought, cultivated, worked and discovered throughout a lifetime. We complete our other half when we lead a fulfilling life. When we know that our actions are aligned with our ideals. When our decisions go hand in hand with our vision and our aspirations. When we work to build a society based on ethics. When we love our loved ones more and more. When we discover the beauty of being in love. When we look quietly into the eyes of our children and grandchildren, and we understand everything. When we achieve peace of mind in the security of what has been achieved.

I could end here assuming this possibility of completing ourselves internally. However, even when completing the other half of the soul, we never stop dividing it into two. Like the half shekel. All of our certainties include an element of uncertainty. What we take for granted, for natural, always embraces a doubt. This is the case of strength of body or mind, friendship, trust, security, family, bonds, knowledge or love.

This is why, in the middle of this room, we see the image of a soul split in two. Because we are in everything, always, two. We don’t know how to be one, we’ll never get there. We are objective and subjective. Body and soul. Flesh and spirit. Rational and emotional. Time and space. Transparent and colorful. Our virtues and our faults coexist within. Beauties and miseries. The truths and the lies. Past and future. Failures and achievements. Memories and oblivion. Spring and Autumns. Health and disease. Life and death.

We divide our brain into two hemispheres and a partition separates our heart in two. And we also carry a soul broken by various wounds and marks of history. Two halves are our soul. What we know about ourselves and what we have to discover. What they know about us and what we only keep to ourselves.

Sometimes we live on one side of the soul, and many others we take refuge on the other side. If the Shekel is like the soul, it may also be because there are times when the soul weighs us down. It weighs us down, it hurts us, it hurts us. So we feel that everything inside hurts and weighs. But in reality we are not one. We are a universe of halves and fragments. There we have that other half of the spirit which retains a unique glow, waiting for the dawn to begin to shine again.

When someone we love leaves, we stay. The hurting half of the soul seems to weigh far more than any other emotion of any other time. The pain is legitimate, necessary. It is the intimacy of our broken soul part that speaks to the whole body. But when we only listen to this fragment of spirit, we remain locked almost selfishly in our personal pain. When someone dies, only half of their soul leaves, to be reunited with the Source of everything.. The other half remain here, waiting to be welcomed back into the spiritual embrace of those on whom they left their mark. He expects us to learn to remember well, to unite with that half of our soul that manages to smile while remembering.

Perhaps the real wisdom lies in learning how to bring out the soul fragment we need at the right time. Neither hiding nor denying any of our halves, but knowing that we are authentic with each of these fragments. In our lights or in our shadows, be authentic. real. To offer that half shekel without shame to open the soul and show us how we cry or laugh.

Dear friends. Friends all.

We are not a number on a list. We are a piece of a great story. Surely, when we give our half a piece, another broken soul will lie before us, another half of someone, waiting to complete and become one with our offering.

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