Matthew 5:3

Souls whose spirits are deflated, impoverished, exhausted, broken, depressed or, simply, tired are welcomed within the Realm of Names if they call upon The Name of HaShem: not with their vocal cords, but with their spirits. In these states, souls make no estimations of who they are and what life requires of them. They are preoccupied with surviving from moment to moment; for they despair of finding relief.

Perishing from lack of vision and constantly sifting through nuggets of their thoughts in forlorn hope of finding some new mindset that may make each successive moment more bearable, they find no wisdom: no traces of spiritual gold. A silver lining of understanding eludes them, also; so they pan, listlessly, through the same cloudy streams of thought over and over, willing to settle for diversion.

Bogged down by piles of mud and muck, they lament the inadequacy of their endeavors; and they have trouble tolerating their own laments, because every tiresome sigh lowers expectations still further. Imprisoned by thoughts and emotions, they endure as best they can for so long as they can. They are spiritual paupers. Except the Father should lift them up, they expect a rupture of the headwaters, as in the days of Noah.

Adam Kadmon, the "Projection of Man," is the symbol of the Tree of Life. Kether is the topmost of its ten spheres, its sephirot. Often referred to as "The Supreme Crown," Kether can be understood as the sphere of intelligence, but natural intelligence cannot approach Kether; for the crown of the unredeemed human mind is simply the tool by which man has achieved dominion over all other species on Earth, to his own harm and shame; and man's intelligence continues to be leveraged as the means to subject less endowed creatures to the rule of his will, at the peril of all who live.

Words are birds; and birds, taking flight, are arrows to the wise. Spiritual Kether is like the canopy of the Tree of Life, and its branches are home to the Word of HaShem, his silent counsel. When rightly applied, intelligence is the faculty by which man can measure the movements of God's Spirit within the frame of his own consciousness. As man's branching thoughts are stirred, the Life Breath energizes the cells of the human body and supplies the spiritual oxygen needed to restore divine fire for the restoration of all things.

The spark of divinity breathed into Adam in the Garden is never completely extinguished within the least of men, but only those whose hearts have been rekindled are able to lift their voices in righteous supplication. With no expectation of further reward, they seek the faces of HaShem, that they can understand the saying that God is good. Scales fall from the eyes of such souls as the royal scepter is raised in welcome. Reassured, they begin to see again.

The vision grows, clarifies, and shall become operative, but not by anything the individual can do to further progress. Every gate is opened by an act of God, who allows souls to enter when instruction has born fruit. This truth was demonstrated in the ministry of Y'shua, who asked that the woman at the well go and return, again, with her husband. The woman was no libertine, as is commonly taught. She was a spiritual adept, and she was on the sixth rung of Jacob's ladder.

Natural man is haunted when exposed to the hidden Presence, which he sees as alien to his natural self. When the Presence begins to lift its head within him, therefore, his natural heart and mind struggle to comprehend what is going on. Like dust arising from a pivot point upon dry ground, the dilemmas raised by the Indwelling cannot be resolved by willful efforts of the heart and mind; for the new garment has threads with specific measurements that must be braided together by the skill of the Father's hands.

The root (heart) and the essence (mind) of a man's natural intelligence struggle together with concerns that seem imperative to the moment, but mortal man is the seed of Elohim; and his immortal intelligence  operates on scales far beyond what is revealed in the confines of every-day thought. The path to full restoration of man's immortal measurement of this greater intelligence requires great humility, and the impoverishment of the natural spirit is a vital first step. Man will find joy in his sorrow as the tears dry from his eyes.

King Solomon asked who could measure "the spirit of Man that goes upward, and the spirit of the beast that goes downward to the earth." Well, from both Hebrew and Greek scriptures, the words most commonly translated as "spirit" are more properly rendered as "breath." The movements of human spirit in the King James version of the Ecclesiastes parable, then, are likened to the inhale (the downward trajectory of untainted air) and the exhale (the upward trajectory of spent breath). Air is the substance of the second heaven, and when we breathe it in, it lifts us up, renews us. However, the inhale makes us debtors to the atmosphere, and we have no choice but to repay heaven with our exhales, which carry the savor--the scent--of who we are and what we've been up to. We breathe our transactions between heaven and earth.

The exchange of the contrary winds of natural breath and divine breath correspond to the interplay of the two laws that drive the whirlwind of which Paul wrote in Romans 7. Like all beasts of Earth, we inhale the Breath of Life, and we exhale the savor of the utilization of the breath we draw, whether unto life or unto death. Caught up by the whirlwind, the tainted residue of our essence travels skyward with the exhale, where it merges with fresh air and is cleansed of toxicity. Again made ready to be drawn downward again, toward the ground, where it gives report of the weight of its savor in celestial realms, that it might arise, once again, to the gates of paradise and the throne of Father hy. We are reborn with every breath.

The Breath of hwhy has been passed from parent to child from the days of the first man, vivifying humanity with the inward Presence of the Immortal One, who daily humbles himself by dwelling within mortal tabernacles to engineer the perfection of the creatures that hide in mortal bodies and souls. From the moment of  father Adam's first breath, the Projection of hy-- his Cry, his Shout of Life-- entered mankind; and stewardship of that divine breath transformed the first man, the creature of clay, into a living soul, a creature of light. As host of the Breath, the man Adam served as prototype of the temple formed not by handiwork, but by the Projected Breath of God. A son carries the father's breath forward, which is the reason Adam is called a Son of God.