Between the margins -3

BS’D

Shalom!

In something new and old, I’ll share the different meanderings my mind goes through while learning and meeting the Daf.

Torah Tavlin and I am one of those that find themselves sick sometimes.

While we are wrapping Masechet Avoda Zara soon we happen back to Slichot!

When learning the sugyot of ta’arovet, yayin nesech, and noten ta’am lifgam, one may hear more than halakha — one may hear the melody of teshuva. The question is always: when does a drop taint the whole, and when does it spoil itself away? When is the mixture defined by its name, and when by its taste?

The Amoraim remind us: if the issur first sweetened and then spoiled (השביח ולבסוף פגם), all agree it remains forbidden — because once the sweetness was tasted, the trace is never quite lost. But if it was pogeim me’ikara — spoiling from the very start — then the machloket unfolds: Rebbe Meir sees even that as prohibition, while Rebbe Shimon says no, a drop of bitterness that never sweetens cannot define the whole.

Isn’t this Elul? Sometimes my mistakes had their shimmer — they tasted sweet, drew me in — before they curdled and left the residue of regret. Other times, my missteps were bitter from the outset, and halakha itself whispers: don’t let them define you.

Elul is that in-between space: sometimes my falls seep flavor into the vessel, sometimes they dissolve, and sometimes they transform. The work of teshuva is discerning which is which, and remembering that even when the mixture seems ruined, Elul is big enough to hold it — name and taste, taint and purity, ascent and descent — all as part of the return.

Elul: The Mother Who Holds It All

There once was a Simcha from Call of the Shofar who said in the name of Rabbeinu:
You have to be an expert in going up,
and an expert in going down.

Because return is never half-measures.
It takes the whole of you:
the hopes and dreams,
the expectations twisted into resentments,
the illusions you cling to
and the delusions you inherit.
All of it.

The Ari taught that Elul is held in two Names: Kas”a (קס״א, 161) and Sag (ס״ג, 63).
Two permutations of Ekiyeh and Havaya.

Kas”a is the ascent — אם אסק שמים שם אתה —
“If I rise to the heavens, You are there.”

Sag is the descent — ואציעה שאול הנך —
“If I spread my bed in Sheol, behold, You are there too.”

Two points of the alef:
the upper dot and the lower dot.
Together they form a derech —
a path of teshuva.
Not only the way up.
Not only the fall down.
But the way through.

Rebbe Nachman said this is the whole avodah of teshuva:
to be a baki baratzo (expert in striving upward)
and a baki bashov (expert in returning, even from the pit).
It’s a strange kind of expertise —
one that only life itself trains you in.

Baki + Baki = Derech
112 + 112 = 224

Kas”a (קס״א) + Sag (ס״ג)
161 + 63 = 224

And maybe that’s why Elul is personified as a mother.
Because a mother can hold whatever the child brings:
the diapers, the mess,
the stumbles of potty training,
the attempts that fail.
She holds it without flinching.
She holds it even when you think it can’t be held.
And in that holding, she also lets you stretch higher.

Elul as nest.
Elul as sky.
Elul as judgment.
Elul as mercy.

This is why Yaakov had to cross Yabok (יב״ק) —
because Yabok = 112 = two times baki.
The river was not just geography,
it was initiation.
He wrestled his way into a new name, Yisrael.
That’s what teshuva is:
not bypassing the wrestle,
but being willing to cross through it.

So when I come into Elul, I bring with me the scorecards in my head,
the expectations that contorted into resentments,
the yearning that feels too fragile to name.
And Elul says: I can hold it.
The climb, the stumble, the silence, the voice.

בן אדם ממש — the whole person — that’s who returns.

Hineini.

Adapted from ממעינות הי"ם, issue 182, Parashat Re’eh 5785.

Best,

Moshe Haim

P.S. Trust is a journey, not a destination. Be patient, dear ones.

P.P.S. Healing and self-discovery continues. If you feel the call to deepen this work, to truly step into the light of your own being, I invite you to join us at the next Hineini Retreat. It’s a sacred space where these shadows can be fully explored, embraced, and transformed. Come, be a part of a community that supports you in this dance of reclamation and renewal. You deserve it.