Feeling Bitter?
Maror is the bitter food we eat on Passover to remind us of, you guessed it, the bitterness of our once upon an enslavement.
It’s an interesting thing to be reminded of the bitterness, with a root. Wouldn't it be more effective to sit down at the seder and think about all the sad and depressing things happening IRL and use that narrative as a prop to arouse tears of empathy for our past selves?
Better yet, our current selves, still burdened and shackled by distorted perceptions of success and worthiness? As the Mishnah states: In every generation, a person must see themselves as leaving Egypt…
There are two words used in the Tanya (ancient Hebrew is not surprisingly a richer vocabulary for Jewish thought) for the vastly low emotions of sadness humans feel-- Marirut (bitterness) and Atzvut (depression).
Marirut, is a parasympathetic emotional state, it calmly registers what is, it says, “I am a soul in a body, detached from my source, Hashem. This is truly sad”. Marirut grieves with an open heart. It seeks healthy love and connection. It allows me to feel separated from Hashem, but also unified within His oneness as part of this vast and complex world. It recognizes the dichotomous nature of life and accepts that reality. I feel safe and held by God, even when life hurts, and I don’t understand His plan for me. Marirut happens in a state of (God) consciousness and peacefulness.
Atzvut is the angsty sympathetic state of guilt about my human failings, and worry about what the future might bring. It is when I won’t accept what is, “I’m never doing that again!” and I believe it is within my control to manage outcomes and people. It’s the depressive state that makes me think someone else has it better, and the thrilling game of “if only” plays like a recorded loop in my brain. Worse yet, it brings out my triggered impulsive instincts, because in atzvut I am in my animal consciousness. I don’t see the world through God's reality, where everything is one, echad, but through a hierarchical lens, a world of fragmentation. Am I good enough? Am I acceptable? Am I wearing the right clothing? Can I take up space? Am I loved? Do I matter? He is okay. I am better though. You are the worst. It’s constant evaluations, with the compulsory anxiety riding shotgun, while my survival instincts are at the wheel.
On Passover, the bitter root, marror is ingested to evoke marirut (bitterness), the plain bitterness of slavery, coupled with the exultation of freedom.
It’s to remind us, nay to arouse the parasympathetic state that accepts that this thing called life is rough. It’s the resultant ability to choose how to process the hard times where I can truly be free.
In merirut I am free, in atzvut I am enslaved.
In a song by the Jewish band Eighth Day, they sing about the two central characters of the Passover story;
Knock, knock, Pharaoh’s at my door
Oh, he still comes around
He changed his name but I can hear his sound
Knock, knock, Pharaoh’s at my door
He’s bringing slavery to tie my hands and blind my eyes to see.
But I’ve got a little bit of Moses in me
I’ve got the power, power to break free
This bloody river is gonna split before me
I’ve got a little bit of Moses in me.
Can you guess who is which brain state? Merirut and atzvut? Who will you choose to emulate, will it be your little Pharaoh, or your little Moses?
(Thank you to Devori Nussbaum https://www.listennotes.com/podcasts/chassidus-through-the-eyes-of-a-pLSWfYoAPsG/ https://www.instagram.com/devori_nussbaum/?hl=en for this teaching)