Lea Odelia
Recently, during a lesson, the Hornosteipel Rebbetzin said something that put everything in its place. We were discussing the much-talked-about “increase in joy.” People chase this simcha, practically banging their heads against the wall, because they understand it as happiness or something of the sort.
The Rebbetzin simply said: “Simcha is a connection with the Creator.”
Period. That somehow makes it clearer and calmer. The connection depends on us ourselves, unlike a state of euphoria... A connection with the Creator is necessarily accompanied by positive emotions.
And now I have found a further explanation in Rabbi Levi Yitzchak: “A person's principal joy is when he succeeds in elevating sparks of holiness to the service of the Creator. These sparks become a garment for him and bring him joy.
The month of Adar is preceded by the period of Shovavim, a time for raising all these particles to holiness. In Adar, they all become a garment for him. The month is called Adar from the word for ‘garment,’ as in the expression ‘aderet Eliyahu’ — ‘Elijah's mantle.’ When a person receives a new garment from the sparks of holiness elevated during Shovavim, ... joy comes from having succeeded in elevating them, and that is why we increase joy in Adar.”
In other words, we have a code. One might call it a segulah. Send the sparks upward, and you will have simcha. Incidentally, this explains our optimism, which the world finds incomprehensible, and our absence of despondency as a community.
Yet a question arises: “Where do religious people who are generally sad come from?”
I think everyone has their own reason. But one of them is surely the shift to doing things automatically: prayers, blessings, mitzvot... After all, are people returning to Torah observance sad at the beginning of their journey, when they put their whole soul into every new step?