א ב ג ד ה ו ז ח ט י QUANTUM TORAH

Quanta of Thought

Discrete packets of wisdom at the intersection of Torah and quantum reality

The Well That Was Always There

November 6, 2025 / 15 Heshvan 5786 No Comments

(Parshat Vayeira, Genesis 21:14-21)

Hagar and Ishmael are dying of thirst in the desert. In her despair, Hagar places her son under a bush and walks away, unable to watch him die. Then something remarkable happens:

Then God opened her eyes and she saw a well of water. (Genesis 21:19)

Note that the angel does not create a well—the angel merely opens Hagar’s eyes—that well was there all along. The rabbis teach:

Rabbi Binyamin said: “Everyone is presumed blind until the Holy One opens their eyes.” (Bereishit Rabbah 53)[1]

The well was real. It was physical. It contained actual water. Hagar had functioning eyes. Yet, she could not see it.

Psychological Blindness

Inattentional Blindness: In the famous “invisible gorilla” experiment, people counting basketball passes fail to see a gorilla walking through the scene.[2] Our attention filters reality so aggressively that we literally cannot see what is right in front of us when our focus is elsewhere. Hagar, desperate and focused on her dying son, could not see the well.

Change Blindness: Even dramatic changes in our visual field go unnoticed if they occur during a brief interruption. The angel’s calling Hagar might represent that crucial shift in attention that set the stage for G‑d’s opening her eyes, allowing previously invisible information to suddenly register.

Creating vs. Revealing

We tend to approach problems by asking, “What can I build?”What can I invent? What new solution can I create?

But some of our most critical problems do not require creation. They require revelation—removing the barriers that prevent us from seeing what is already present.

The distinction matters:

  • Creating a solution requires resources, time, and effort to build something new
  • Revealing a solution requires only a shift in perception to recognize what exists

When We Cannot See the Well

What prevented Hagar from seeing the well?

Panic narrows perception. Under extreme stress, our cognitive tunneling intensifies. We literally process less visual information.[3] Hagar, consumed by fear and grief, lost the capacity to scan her environment effectively.

Expectation shapes observation. If you are certain the desert is empty, you stop looking. The mind sees what it expects to see—expectation shapes observation.[4] Hagar “knew” there was no water, so there was no water.

Proximity blindness. Sometimes solutions are so close they fall outside our search radius. We look to the horizon for help while standing next to the solution.

The Intervention

What actually happened? The text is specific: “An angel’s call breaks Hagar’s panic (v.17); G‑d opens her eyes (v.19). The reality did not change—her perception did.”

Sometimes we need an external intervention to break our perceptual blindness:

  • A question from someone outside our situation
  • A moment of forced stillness
  • The collapse of a false certainty
  • Fresh eyes on an old problem

The intervention does not create a new reality. It disrupts the mental state that was preventing us from seeing reality.

“To see, you must look!”

The Participating Observer

In some interpretations of quantum mechanics, such as the Von Neumann-Wigner conscious collapse, the observer plays a crucial role—the observer collapses the wave function, transforming potentiality into reality. Physicist John Wheeler famously captured this with his concept of the “participating observer.”[5] Through this lens, we might view Hagar’s story differently: metaphorically speaking, until she looked, the well existed in a superposition of states—both there and not there. By opening Hagar’s eyes, G‑d empowered her to collapse the well’s wavefunction, as it were, bringing it into tangible existence.

The lesson cuts deep: to see, you must look. Use your power. Be a participating observer. Reality may be waiting for your attention to actualize what already exists in potential.

The Well Is There

Before you dig, before you build, before you despair—pause. What if the solution is already present? What if your eyes simply need opening? The water that could save you might be three steps away.

[1] Bereishit Rabbah, parasha 53 (esp. 53:13–14). Critical ed. Julius Theodor and Chanoch Albeck. Jerusalem: Wahrmann Books, 1965

[2] Simons, D. J., & Chabris, C. F. (1999). Gorillas in our midst: Sustained inattentional blindness for dynamic events. Perception, 28(9), 1059–1074. https://doi.org/10.1068/p281059.

[3] Easterbrook, J. A. (1959). The effect of emotion on cue utilization and the organization of behavior. Psychological Review, 66(3), 183–201. https://doi.org/10.1037/h0047707.

[4] Rao, R. P. N., & Ballard, D. H. (1999). Predictive coding in the visual cortex: A functional interpretation of some extra-classical receptive-field effects. Nature Neuroscience, 2(1), 79–87. https://doi.org/10.1038/4580.

[5] Wheeler, J. A. (1983). “Law without law.” In J. A. Wheeler & W. H. Zurek (Eds.), Quantum Theory and Measurement (pp. 182–213). Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.

Lot’s Daughters and the Uncertainty Principle

November 5, 2025 / 14 Heshvan 5786 No Comments

Greater is a transgression done for the sake of Heaven than a commandment not for the sake of Heaven.” (Talmud, Nazir 23b)

The Narrative: A World Reduced to a Cave

After witnessing the cataclysmic destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, Lot and his two daughters flee to a cave in the mountains. There, isolated from civilization, the daughters reach a devastating conclusion: they are the last humans on Earth. Rashi notes that they genuinely believed no man remained alive.[1]

Acting on this belief, they devise a plan to preserve humanity by intoxicating their father and conceiving children through him (Genesis 19:31–38). Their sons were named Moab (“from father”) and Ben-Ammi (“son of my people”)—names the Torah itself records without condemnation.[2]

Remarkably, these problematic origins did not preclude redemption. Much later, halakhah ruled: “An Ammonite [male] and Moabite [male], not a female,” permitting women of those nations to enter the community of Israel. This is how Ruth the Moabite became the ancestress of King David,[3] and how Naamah of Ammon became the mother of King Rehoboam.[4]

The Torah presents this episode without explicit moral commentary, leaving us to grapple with its complexity. Beneath the surface lies a profound exploration of how decisions are made in extreme situations, how perception shapes reality, and how absolute certainty in one’s assumptions can lead to moral ambiguity.

The Decision-Making Science

In signal detection theory, choices under uncertainty balance two types of errors: misses (failing to respond to a real threat) and false alarms (responding to a non-existent threat). When the cost of a miss is catastrophic, rational agents adopt a more “liberal” criterion, accepting more false alarms to avoid the one disaster.[5]

Catastrophe also shifts the brain’s priors: predictive-processing models show that trauma can overweight danger expectations, biasing decisions toward worst-case assumptions.[6]

Lot’s daughters faced exactly this dilemma: if humanity truly faces extinction, they must do whatever it takes to ensure the survival of their species. If, however, it is a false alarm and the world was not destroyed, they would be committing incest.

Reeling from apocalyptic catastrophe, they minimized the miss (humanity’s extinction) by adopting a liberal criterion and making a costly response to what turned out to be a false alarm, wrongly inferring that humanity had ended.

According to decision-making science, economics, and game theory, they made the optimal call under the circumstances: avert an unacceptable outcome (human extinction) at a finite cost, no matter how high, even if mistaken.[7] The Talmud has a term for this: aveirah lishmah—a transgression for the sake of Heaven.

Uncertainty and Moral Decision-Making

Let us now consider the daughters’ choice from the quantum perspective. Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle tells us that certain pairs of physical properties cannot be simultaneously known with perfect precision. The more precisely we know one quantity (such as position), the less precisely we can know its complementary quantity (such as momentum).

Lot’s daughters faced a moral uncertainty principle: the more certain they became about the world’s destruction, the less clarity they had about the moral choice. Conversely, had they deliberated more about the moral propriety of their plan, the more they would have questioned their assumption of humanity’s total destruction.

Their perceived certainty about external reality created uncertainty in moral reasoning, and vice versa. This is not merely metaphorical—it reflects a deep structural parallel between quantum mechanics and ethical decision-making.

In quantum mechanics, we learn to operate within uncertainty, making probabilistic predictions rather than deterministic pronouncements. The daughters, lacking this framework, chose deterministic action based on limited data—a cautionary tale about the dangers of false certainty.

Takeaway: Living with Uncertainty

When the world feels like it is burning—as many of us may be experiencing now—check your priors. Ask yourself: What am I treating as a catastrophic miss? What “false alarms” am I tolerating as a result? Am I confusing my limited perspective with absolute reality?

Torah’s narrative mirrors quantum truth: uncertainty rules, and certainty comes at a price. In practice, this means Learning to accept uncertainty rather than forcing premature conclusions; pausing before making high-stakes choices, especially when trauma has shifted your baseline assumptions; and consulting wise counsel to expand your reference frame beyond the “cave” of your immediate experience.

The daughters of Lot acted rationally within their constrained worldview. Their story reminds us that even well-intentioned decisions made under extreme uncertainty can have unforeseen consequences—some redemptive, others costly. The wisdom lies not in avoiding all mistakes, but in maintaining epistemic humility: recognizing the limits of what we can know, and remaining open to realities beyond our current horizon.

[1] Rashi on Genesis 19:31, citing Bereshit Rabbah 51:8.

[2] Genesis 19:37–38; Rashi ad loc.

[3] Yevamot 76b; Ruth 4:17–22.

[4]  1 Kings 14:21.

[5] Green & Swets, 1966; U.S. National Academies overview of ROC tradeoffs.

[6] Wilkinson, 2017; Kube, 2020.

[7] D. McNicol, A Primer of Signal Detection Theory, George Allen & Unwin Ltd, https://www.hms.harvard.edu/bss/neuro/bornlab/nb204/statistics/sdt.pdf (retrieved 11/05/2025).

And Sarah Laughed: A Brief Tour of Real Longevity Science

November 3, 2025 / 12 Heshvan 5786 2 Comments

And Sarah laughed within herself, saying, “After I have become worn out, will I have ednah [renewal]?” (Genesis 18:12)

Sarah’s laugh is more than skepticism—it is a question that echoes across millennia. Can aging truly be reversed? Can worn-out tissues regain their youthful vigor? Can biological clocks run backward?

Rashi interprets ednah as the return of menses[1] and smooth skin[2]—a biological rejuvenation embedded in the verse itself. The Midrash and Talmud expand on the miracle: Sarah’s reproductive capacity was fully restored, and her body was transformed. This is not merely about childbearing; it is about the fundamental question of whether aging is reversible.

The Science of Turning Back Time

Modern gerontology reveals that aging is not a single switch that flips at a predetermined age. Rather, it is a complex network of interconnected processes—what researchers call the “hallmarks of aging.” These include genomic instability (DNA damage accumulating over time),[3] epigenetic drift (changes in which genes are active),[4] cellular senescence (cells that stop dividing but refuse to die),[5] stem cell exhaustion,[6] and more.

Here is the revolutionary insight: several of these hallmarks appear to be plastic, not fixed. They can potentially be adjusted, reversed, or reset. Sarah’s question is becoming science’s quest.

Epigenetic Reprogramming: Resetting the Cellular Clock

One of the most promising frontiers involves epigenetic reprogramming—essentially, convincing cells to forget their age. Scientists have discovered that briefly activating a specific combination of factors (called OSKM factors,[7] named after the genes Oct4, Sox2, Klf4, and c-Myc) can reset molecular age markers in cells.

In landmark experiments, partial expression of these factors in mice not only paused aging, it appeared to reverse it.[8] Even more remarkably, in studies targeting damaged retinal neurons, a related cocktail (OSK) restored vision and rolled back DNA methylation patterns—one of the key molecular signatures of aging.[9] The cells became functionally younger.[10]

Senolytics: Clearing Out the “Zombie” Cells

Another avenue targets what scientists call senescent cells—cells that have stopped dividing but refuse to die. Think of them as cellular “zombies”: they do not perform their normal functions anymore, but they hang around, secreting inflammatory chemicals that damage neighboring tissues. These secretions create what researchers call a “senescence-associated secretory phenotype,” or SASP—essentially, chronic low-grade inflammation that accelerates aging in surrounding areas.

Enter senolytics—drugs designed to selectively eliminate these zombie cells. In mice, removing senescent cells has been shown to delay or even reverse several age-related pathologies. More excitingly, early human trials are showing promise. In patients with severe lung scarring (idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis), a short course of two drugs—dasatinib (originally a cancer medication) and quercetin (a plant-derived compound available as a supplement)—proved safe and was associated with improvements in physical function, including increased walking distance.[11] While these are preliminary findings, they suggest the principle works in humans, not just mice.

The Landscape of Aging: Valleys, Ridges, and Renewal

To understand what is happening at a deeper level, imagine cells sitting in “attractor basins” on an epigenetic landscape (Waddington landscape)—a metaphor borrowed from developmental biology and physics. Picture a hilly terrain where balls (cells) settle into valleys (stable cell states). Young cells occupy high, well-organized valleys where genes are precisely regulated—low entropy, high coherence.

As we age, cells gradually roll down into lower, noisier valleys. Gene regulation becomes less precise and more chaotic—higher entropy, lower functional coherence. The cell no longer knows exactly what it should be doing.

Epigenetic reprogramming and senolytics aim to push cells back over the ridge, into the younger, more ordered basins. It is about reducing the molecular entropy of aging—restoring the precise gene regulation patterns that define youthful function. This is not fantasy; it is measurable biochemistry.

The Psalm’s Promise

“Who renews your youth like the eagle.” (Psalm 103:5)

The Psalmist’s image of the eagle—a creature that in ancient tradition was thought to renew itself—resonates with what we are discovering. The biblical miracle of Sarah bearing a child at an advanced age may carry an additional layer of meaning: biological rejuvenation is not metaphysically impossible. It is a challenge, an invitation. If Sarah’s aging were reversed, perhaps the mechanisms exist within nature itself, waiting to be understood and engaged. I see it as a permission, indeed, an imperative to develop the science of age reversal.

Brain Aging: A Personal Research Focus

My current work focuses on one critical aspect of aging: brain aging. Specifically, I research how a particular stage of sleep, called “slow-wave sleep,” can reactivate the glymphatic clearing system—the brain’s sophisticated waste-removal network that operates primarily during sleep.

During deep sleep (known as the slow-wave sleep), the glymphatic system gives the brain a thorough cleansing, flushing out amyloid-beta and other misfolded proteins and pathogens that accumulate during waking hours. This nightly maintenance is crucial for keeping a young and healthy brain. When this system functions optimally, it may help prevent or delay the onset of neurodegenerative conditions. Understanding and enhancing this natural renewal process represents another avenue for pushing back against biological aging—this time, protecting the organ that makes us who we are.

From Miracle to Medicine: What This Means Now

Full-body age reversal is not yet here—we are not about to see 90-year-olds transform into 30-year-olds anytime soon. However, targeted rejuvenation is transitioning from science fiction to legitimate research. We are at the beginning of a profound shift in how we understand aging: not as an inexorable decline, but as a potentially modifiable process.

For now, the most effective interventions remain decidedly unglamorous but powerfully proven: plentiful, high-quality sleep, both aerobic and resistance training, a healthy diet, and maintaining cardiovascular and metabolic health. These are not just “wellness tips”—they are the foundation that allows our cellular repair systems to function optimally. Meanwhile, we must cautiously and rigorously translate epigenetic and senolytic therapies through clinical trials, ensuring they are safe and effective before widespread use.

Between miracle and medicine lies our mandate: to study, to understand, to heal, to cultivate life’s renewal and extension. Sarah’s laugh—born of disbelief—transformed into Isaac’s birth (Isaac, in Heb. Yitzchak, means “he will laugh.”) Isaac was the paragon of modern longevity—he lived to be 180 years old. The Lubavitcher Rebbe once said that Isaac is our father, and we can all potentially live to be 180 years young, as he did—Amen to that!’ Perhaps our own skepticism about conquering aging will likewise transform into joy as science uncovers the mechanisms of rejuvenation.

A longer healthspan is not beyond the horizon. And while we work toward it, we can honor the deeper wisdom: to live fully and meaningfully now, to make every moment count. That itself is a form of renewal and life extension—one available to us today.

[1] Gen. Rabbah 48:17.

[2] Heb. “smooth flesh,” עֶדְנָה, is cognate with an expression of time, עִדָּן, interpreted as a period. Tan. Shoftim 18.

[3] Genomic instability in aging refers to an increased tendency to acquire genetic alterations of various kinds, resulting from increased DNA damage and less-than-perfect replication/repair, and mitotic control. It includes, but isn’t limited to: single-nucleotide variants and small indels that accumulate with age in many tissues, chromosomal/structural lesions, replication stress–driven damage, and mitochondrial genome instability. Mechanistically, this hallmark reflects both more damage (endogenous ROS, mobile elements, replication errors) and less faithful upkeep (age-impaired DNA repair/checkpoints). It’s one of the canonical hallmarks of aging.

[4] Simply put, epigenetic drift is the age-related, partly random “blurring” of the epigenome, which makes gene regulation less precise as we age. More precisely, epigenetic drift refers to the gradual, mostly stochastic change in epigenetic marks—especially DNA methylation—across cells and over time, resulting in increased variability and “noisier” gene regulation with age. Global patterns tend to lose methylation at repeats, while some promoter CpG islands gain methylation; histone marks and chromatin accessibility also shift. Together, these changes make epigenetic states more heterogeneous within a tissue. Classic twin studies show young monozygotic twins are epigenetically similar, but older twins diverge markedly—textbook evidence of age-related drift. Longitudinal twin work confirms divergence over a decade. Imperfect maintenance of methylation during DNA replication, plus environmental/exposure effects, introduces small errors that accumulate, creating epigenetic mosaicism. Drift is linked to dysregulated transcription, stem cell exhaustion, immunosenescence, and increased cancer risk, as clones with advantageous (but aberrant) characteristics expand. It is one pillar of the broader hallmark epigenetic alterations in aging.

[5] Aging of cells. Most senescent cells die through apoptosis—self-destruction, or cellular suicide. If senescent cells don’t self-destruct, they become toxic. With aging, the number of senescent cells increases, which contributes to inflammation—one of the primary causes of aging.

[6] Stem-cell exhaustion is an age-related decline in both the number and function of tissue stem cells, characterized by reduced self-renewal, impaired differentiation, and increased senescence. It is driven by accumulated damage, epigenetic alterations, telomere attrition, mitochondrial and niche/inflammatory changes—yielding poorer maintenance and repair of tissues.

[7] OSK and OSKM are sets of Yamanaka factors—transcription factors used to reprogram cells. They bind regulatory DNA, remodel chromatin, and reset epigenetic programs toward pluripotency. In longevity work, OSK (without c-Myc) is often used for partial or transient reprogramming to reduce tumor risk and avoid full loss of cell identity, whereas OSKM reprograms more aggressively but carries higher oncogenic/teratoma risk due to c-Myc.

[8] Ocampo, A., Reddy, P., Martinez-Redondo, P., et al. (2016). “In Vivo Amelioration of Age-Associated Hallmarks by Partial Reprogramming.” Cell, 167(7):1719-1733.e12. doi: 10.1016/j.cell.2016.11.052.

[9] Lu, Y., et al (2020). “Reprogramming to recover youthful epigenetic information and restore vision.” Nature, 588(7836):124-129. doi: 10.1038/s41586-020-2975-4.

[10] Karg, M.M., Lu, Y.R., Refaian, N., Cameron, J., Hoffmann, E., et al. (2023). “Sustained Vision Recovery by OSK Gene Therapy in a Mouse Model of Glaucoma.” Cellular Reprogramming, 25(5):188-200. doi: 10.1089/cell.2023.0074.

[11] Baker, D., Wijshake, T., Tchkonia, T. et al. Clearance of p16Ink4a-positive senescent cells delays ageing-associated disorders. Nature 479, 232–236 (2011). https://doi.org/10.1038/nature10600

The Thread That Transforms

October 30, 2025 / 8 Heshvan 5786 No Comments

Neither from a thread to a sandal-strap, nor will I take from whatever is yours… (Genesis 14:23)

After defeating five kings, Abraham (then called Abram) refuses all spoils from the king of Sodom, down to the smallest thread and strap. The reward comes swiftly:

After these incidents, the word of the Lord came to Abram in a vision, saying, “Fear not, Abram; I am your Shield; your reward is exceedingly great.” And Abram said, “O Lord God, what will You give me, since I am going childless…” (Genesis 15:1-2)

When Avram anguishes over childlessness, G-d brings him outside:

Please look heavenward and count the stars, if you are able to count them.” And He said to him, “So will be your seed.” (Genesis 15:1-2)

The Talmud reveals the deeper exchange:

In reward for Abraham’s saying, “from a thread to a sandal-strap,” his descendants merited the blue thread of tzitzit and the straps of tefillin.[1]

Avram’s refusal of the material thread and strap earned his descendants the tzitzit (tassels) thread and tefillin (phylacteries) straps—sacred objects worn eternally.

In physics, this is conservation through transformation. Energy cannot be destroyed, only transformed—kinetic to potential, matter to energy, one form to another. The thread does not disappear; it elevates. What Abraham (Abram) refuses in material form, he receives in spiritual form. By declining the lower manifestation, he unlocks the higher one. The same “thread” exists on different planes—one temporary, one eternal.

“Don’t trade the thread that lasts for the thread that frays.”

This is spiritual transformation: what you renounce materially transmutes into something permanent. Abraham could have amassed finite riches; instead, he received an infinite number of descendants. He could have grasped the physical thread; his children wear the sacred one. He could have worn leather sandals with straps; instead, his children don sacred tefillin, wrapping themselves with leather straps. The choice is not having versus not having—it is which plane your reward inhabits.

Takeaway

Every time you refuse what everyone grasps for—ego, credit, instant gratification—you do not lose. You transform. What could be a temporary gain becomes an eternal reward. Don’t trade the thread that lasts for the thread that frays.

[1] Bavli Sotah 17a; Bereishit Rabbah 43:9.

Loyalty Despite Separation

October 29, 2025 / 7 Heshvan 5786 No Comments

When Abram heard that his kinsman had been taken captive, he mustered his trained men… and went in pursuit. (Genesis 14:14)

Abraham just separated from Lot for spiritual clarity. Yet the moment Lot is captured, he mobilizes 318 “trained ones,” yet Chazal say it was Abraham (then still called Abram) with Eliezer (gematria = 318),[1] and risks everything to rescue him. No hesitation; no, “he made his choice,” excuses; no, “I am busy serving G‑d,” justification. Just fierce loyalty. Abraham demonstrates that separation does not mean abandonment, that boundaries do not require indifference, that loyalty to your own is unbreakable.

In quantum mechanics, entanglement lives across subsystems. A pair can be entangled in several independent degrees of freedom at once, e.g., polarization and spatial mode—this is called hyperentanglement. Selective decoherence is possible. A local noise channel or measurement can destroy entanglement in one degree of freedom while leaving another intact, e.g., dephase polarization so it is separable, yet keep path/momentum entanglement.

Let there be no strife between me and you… for we are relatives. (Genesis 13:8–9).

Avram disentangles from Lot in the ideology degree-of-freedom without discarding the kinship degree-of-freedom. In other words, he “decoheres” the values channel but does not trace out (ignore/delete) the family channel—so that bond still carries obligations.

Hold your boundaries; keep your loyalties.

This couldn’t be more urgent today. When Hamas captured hostages, our nation went to war to rescue them, while risking the lives of many soldiers.

We Jews are one family, one small tribe, universally hated, perennially vulnerable. Debate Israeli policy? That is democracy. Disagree with my opinion? That’s fine, that’s what we Jews do. “For every two Jews there are three opinions,” yet when one of us is under attack, disagreements must be set aside. But spread false accusations fueling Jew-hatred, refuse to serve in the army when your country is at war, march with those who celebrate October 7th, or endorse and vote for Hamas-supporting Islamist politicians calling for “global intifada”? That’s betrayal, pure and simple. We, Jews, have a problem with loyalty.

Abraham teaches: separate if you must, disagree fiercely if you will, but be unwaveringly loyal when your own are in danger, and be ready to risk your life to save one of your own, let alone your country. Kol Yisrael arevim zeh bazeh (mutual responsibility) is a cardinal principle of Torah.[2] Even if we became separable in the “values” subspace, we must remain entangled in the “family” subspace. Like a hyperentangled pair, we can be separable in one degree of freedom (ideology) while retaining quantum-like correlations in another (family, nation); selective decoherence removes one channel without collapsing the rest. Disagree in polarization; stay bound in path.

Takeaway

Family and tribal bonds transcend politics. Abraham rushed to Lot’s rescue despite their separation and disentanglement. When your people are under attack, you drop everything and defend them. The quantum universe remembers shared histories; so must we—loyalty above all.

[1] Nedarim 32a.

[2] Shevuot 39a.

Lekh Lekha: The Journey to the Self

October 26, 2025 / 4 Heshvan 5786 No Comments

And the Lord said to Abram: Lech lecha—go forth from your land, your birthplace, and your father’s house, to the land that I will show you. (Genesis 12:1)

Lekh lekha literally means “go to yourself.” The Alter Rebbe explains that G-d was telling Abram to journey “to the root of your soul, to your essence”—to return to the inner source from which his life-force flows.[1] This is not a physical command but a spiritual imperative: to keep moving inward, shedding layers of habit, environment, and inheritance, until one uncovers the divine core of selfhood.

Carl Jung called this process individuation: the lifelong work of becoming who we truly are by integrating our conscious and unconscious aspects. This process involves shedding one’s Persona, shaped by societal expectations, and uncovering the true Self. In Jungian analytical psychology, the “Self” is the imago Dei within—the spark of wholeness that transcends the ego. In Chassidic language, it is the nefesh Elokit, our godly soul. Both paths call for a descent into the depths of one’s psyche in order to ascend to one’s spiritual center.

In modern scientific metaphor, the self is not a static particle but a quantum field of potential. Each act of awareness, each step of lekh lekha, collapses the superposition of who we might be into who we are becoming. Growth requires leaving the old eigenstate of comfort for the uncertainty of transformation.

“The greatest journey is not across space but through the depths of the self.”

Takeaway:
The call of lekh lekha still resonates in every generation. It tells us: do not settle for the self you inherited. Keep walking toward the self you are meant to reveal. The “land that I will show you” lies not somewhere out there—but within.

[1] Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, Torah Or, Lech Lecha, 6b.