In the Mother’s Womb of the Creator: A Journey Toward Human Purpose
Within the tender embrace of the Creator’s womb, we are called to uncover the deepest meaning of being human. Our purpose in life, as whispered through the ancient Hebrew translation of “Adam” — derived from the word for “similar” — is to align ourselves with the singular force that creates and governs all reality. To be human is to strive toward similarity with this force, to attain it through a conscious and transformative journey of the self. Yet, this lofty purpose begins not from a place of inherent likeness, but from a nature that is its very opposite: self-serving, egoistic, individualistic, and exploitative. It is from this raw and unrefined starting point that we are tasked with acquiring the Creator’s divine qualities — pure, selfless, unconditional love and bestowal — qualities that neutralize, complement, and ultimately harness our inherent darkness for a higher good.
This unique process of self-transformation demands more than mere intent; it requires a method and an environment, a sacred incubator akin to a mother’s womb, where such a metamorphosis can unfold. To facilitate this rebirth, we must nullify ourselves toward this “womb,” the next degree in our spiritual development, surrendering to its care as an embryo clings to its mother. This womb is not a solitary space but a living, breathing collective — a group of mutually committed individuals who complement one another, creating the conditions for the transformative forces of the higher degree to work upon us. It is only through these friends, this chosen circle, that I can absorb the spiritual qualities of the Creator. Only with them can I practice the art of love and bestowal, rising above the gravitational pull of my original nature.
Yet, this journey is not a gentle ascent. It demands relentless effort — an incessant striving toward this goal — so that we might uncover the truth of our inherent flaws. Only through such dedication can we honestly confront the negative and destructive traits within us, recognizing what must be corrected. But this recognition alone is insufficient. To face the mirror of our imperfections — the shame, the lowliness — can be unbearable. Who among us would willingly linger in such a state, gazing into a reflection that reveals every failure and fault? The risk is real: the weight of this self-awareness could eject us from the spiritual path entirely.
Thus, within this same nurturing environment, we must embrace a different practice: a “faith above reason.” We must act as though the Creator has already bestowed His godly qualities upon us, as if our broken nature has been mended, allowing us to behave above and against our instincts. This is not a denial of reality but a leap beyond it. I must offer gratitude to the Creator for every moment of attention and care He grants me, regardless of what I feel or perceive in the present. With every breath, I surrender myself, asking Him to guide me according to His plan, trusting that whatever He wills is for my ultimate good. But this surrender is not abstract — it is measured through my friends. Only through them can I gauge my progress in this self-nullification, my success in yielding to the higher forces at work.
At the heart of this journey lies prayer — a cry born from the depths of a broken heart. The truest prayer emerges when we have nothing left to sustain our souls, when we stand stripped of merit, overwhelmed by deficiencies, and plunged into the lowest possible state. This desperate yearning, this raw and unfiltered need, becomes the fertile ground for transformation. Yet, herein lies a paradox: the very deficiency that fuels our prayer can also awaken the ego’s whispers, urging us to abandon the path, to flee from the discomfort of our lowly state.
And so, we must dwell in two realities simultaneously. On one hand, I must face the unvarnished truth of my brokenness, allowing this recognition to ignite my prayer. On the other, I must rise above my reason and present feelings, offering gratitude to the Creator as if He has already lifted me to the next degree. This gratitude is not tethered to my current emotions — it exists beyond them, rooted in the faith that His benevolence is ever-present, that every step is purposeful, and that He is always acting for my highest good. In this “above reason” state, I imagine myself already clothed in the greatness of the next level, drawing closer to similarity with Him.
This duality — truth and faith — finds its anchor in the mother’s womb of the group. Through total self-annulment, I subjugate myself to this collective, receiving everything, even the greatness of the higher state, through its nurturing embrace. This connection shields me from the ego’s spies, those inner voices that seek to convince me to abandon this human development. The group becomes both mirror and refuge: it reflects my distance from true love and bestowal, showing me how far I remain from the Creator’s likeness, while also offering the strength to cling to the higher level above reason, no matter my condition.
Thus, the spiritual path unfolds across two planes. There is the honest, unflinching reason that evaluates my actual state against the Creator’s divine qualities — a sobering measure of my brokenness. And there is the higher state of faith above reason, where I give thanks for the mere chance to connect with Him through this group, for the opportunity to walk this path toward similarity. My default stance must be one of total adherence to the next degree, surrendering to the womb of the collective, disregarding my fleeting sensations so that I remain ever above my present state — fully aware of my lowliness yet lifted.