A Counter-Intuitive Idea
Exploring how shifting our perspective can help us connect more deeply with Hashem. Print and enjoy over Shabbos.
A local minyan held Hakafos this week in honor of Shlomo Carlebach’s yahrzeit and for the chayalim at war over Sukkos. It was an intriguing initiative—I'm not sure who came up with it or why, but it got me wondering: what does Sukkos have to do with this week’s parashah?
At first, the connection wasn't obvious. As I started to reflect on the themes of Sukkos—Simchas Beis HaShoeva, the kida of Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel, and the Ushpizin—it all began to tie together. Sukkos, like this parashah, is about flipping perspectives, seeing Hashem’s hand in everything, and finding joy even when life feels upside down.
The Talmud1 describes the Simchas Beis HaShoeva, an unparalleled celebration in the Beis HaMikdash during Sukkos. The Chachamim would perform incredible feats of movement and acrobatics, but none were as famous as the kida. Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel was renowned for his kida, an act so difficult that no one else of his time could perform it. He would press his thumbs into the ground, bow to kiss the floor, and then straighten his legs into the air. This was all while juggling eight torches in the air. It wasn’t merely a physical feat—it was a spiritual declaration, the significance of which we need to explore.
What indeed was the deeper significance of this act? The kida wasn’t just an acrobatic display; it carried profound ruchnius.
The Ben Yehoyada explains that the thumbs represent Chesed—kindness. By pressing them into the ground, Rabban Shimon was bringing Chesed into Malchus, Hashem’s presence in the physical world. At the same time, his feet, which symbolize Malchus, were raised toward Shamayim, thus turning everything on its head -- see what I did there. This inversion wasn’t a coincidence, rather it reflected the spiritual principle of flipping the mundane to reveal the Shechinah.
My father explains that Sukkos comes on the heels of Yom Kippur. On Yom Kippur, our feet are on the ground while our heads are in Shamayim and our hands extend to the heavens in prayer. On Sukkos, the great leader, Rabban Shimon, turned the whole thing upside down. He had his feet as his foundation pointed to the sky, while his hands, which are the tools for action, were entrenched in the ground. He choreographed a symbolism for life. He was part of this earth.2
This concept of a kida is not limited to the Simchas Beis Hashoeva. We find several instances in Tanach. The first instance of this post is in this week’s parashah with both Eliezer and Yitzachak. The second is in Parashas Shemos after Moshe and Aharon initially approached Pharaoh, Bnei Yisrael did a kida. We also find that Batsheva did a kida for Dovid more than once.
Most meforshim understand the kida to be a form of prostration. Rav Hirsch3 elaborates that kida signifies mental submission to Hashem, while hishtachavah—full prostration—represents total physical and spiritual submission. The kida, bowing the head, symbolizes subordinating one’s thoughts and intellect to a higher power. In contrast, hishtachavah represents a complete surrender of body and soul.
The Netziv and the Radak both highlight that the kida is often expression of gratitude. This aligns with other instances in Tanach, like when Bnei Yisrael performed a kida after Moshe and Aharon first approached Pharaoh. Perhaps this is a deeper reason why people kiss the ground of Eretz Yisrael .
In many shailos u’Teshuvos the term kida is used as a salutation of honor to a Rav. As if their responsa is some sort of acrobatic feat. (not feet)
Rav Yaakov Yitzchak Horowitz, The Rebbe of Lublin refers to a kida as a form of Hachna’ah, submission.4
The Recanti adds that the kida transforms din into rachamim. Bowing low, physically and spiritually, is an act of humility that draws Hashem’s kindness. The Simchas Beis HaShoeva itself was a time to bring chesed into gevurah and sweeten the din. This blend of strength and kindness created a tikkun for malchus, aligning the world with Hashem’s will.5
This concept of the kida as a vehicle for rectifying malchus is beautifully illustrated in the story of Batsheva. After Adoniyahu declared himself king, threatening the Divine line of Malchus Dovid, Batsheva performed a kida in front of King Dovid. This act symbolized her effort to be metaken Malchus Dovid, aligning it with its Divine mission.
Shortly afterward, she performed another kida to declare that her son, Shlomo, would inherit the throne. Through her actions, Batsheva brought down the spiritual tikkun necessary to secure the continuity of Malchus Dovid and the eventual establishment of Malchus Shlomo as the next stage of Hashem’s plan. This wasn’t merely a political maneuver—it was a spiritual act of immense significance.
This brings us back to this week’s parashah, Chayei Sarah. Eliezer, Avraham’s servant, is sent on a mission to find a wife for Yitzchak. When he meets Rivka, the Torah says: "Va’yikod ha’ish va’yishtachu laHashem"—Eliezer bowed and blessed Hashem. This wasn’t just gratitude—it was a moment of transformation.
Eliezer went from being a cursed eved (descendant of Canaan) to someone who could say Baruch Hashem. He saw Hashem’s hand clearly, orchestrating everything that had just happened. His bow wasn’t just physical—it reflected his realization that everything, even his success, was from Hashem.
As explained in my previous essays and the basis of my father’s book, Beginnings, the mission of the Avos was to bring a tikkun for the Etz Hadaas which caused the forces of Tov and Ra to get mixed into each other.
My father writes:
“The whole tikkun has to come from the tikkun of Canaan, and the tikkun itself would come from Eliezer (and Lot). Eliezer felt the tikkun would be through Yitzchak marrying his daughter.
Eliezer felt that he could effect a tikkun more successfully than Yitzchak, who was an esoteric figure. However, with the promise that Avraham’s successor will multiply and become innumerable like the stars, it becomes clear that Yitzchak, the esoteric and mysterious biological son of Avraham, will be the fulfillment of that promise.
Nevertheless, Eliezer pursues his role in the tikkun. Avraham presses Eliezer to swear in the Name of God that he will not take a Canaanite girl as a bride for Yitzchak. Go back to Charan, Avraham told him, to my family, and find a bride for Yitzchak there. Avraham was making it clear that, despite Eliezer’s worthiness and his desire to join Avraham’s family, Eliezer’s daughter would not be a suitable match for Yitzchak. Eliezer is only once called by his name — he is otherwise only referred to either as man-servant of Avraham, or “the Man.” He is a distinguished individual. After Rivkah gives water to his camels at the well, Eliezer returns with her to Besuel’s house, whereupon Besuel and Lavan are immediately taken by Eliezer’s stature. They treat him like a prince, as he is an unusually distinguished individual. After all, he is the son of Nimrod; he is Og, King of Bashan.
Yet, Eliezer refuses to eat or drink anything until he has said his piece. He wants to clarify that he is the man-servant of Avraham. He is not interested in the flattery they heap on him as a distinguished personage in his own right. “Yes, I am important, wealthy, and famous on my own, but my identity, pride, and purpose is, ‘I am the man-servant of Avraham.’” He wants them to understand that he did not arrange the match between Yitzchak and Rivkah. He had thought he himself could be an heir to Avraham, either himself or perhaps through his daughter. But this was not to be. He identifies himself simply as the man-servant of Avraham.
At the time of Avraham, they had to be pushed away as it was not the right time. But from the beginning we can see the end, how everything will fall into place — how Mashiach will come from Eliezer and Lot.... Eliezer and Lot combined are Mashiach ben Yosef and Mashiach ben David, representing two aspects of the future redemption. We shall return to these distinct roles later on. While Lot ultimately produces King David, Eliezer’s descendants end up being the spiritual and biological father of Yosef’s children. Yosef’s wife, Osnas, daughter of Potiphar, was a granddaughter of Eliezer.6 There will be two different people for two different tasks that Mashiach will fulfill; one from Yosef and one from David. 78
Reb Shlomo Carlebach9 connects this to the Kabbalistic concepts of Yichuda Tata’ah (Lower Unity) and Yichuda Ila’ah (Higher Unity). Lower Unity is when we connect to Hashem while still feeling like “us.” Higher Unity, though, is when we’re so connected to Hashem that we lose all sense of self—it’s just Hashem.
When Rivka said, “I will also water your camels,” Eliezer experienced Higher Unity. He saw with his own eyes how “Hashem arranges matches”10. In that moment, he stopped seeing himself as the catalyst for tikkun and felt only Hashem’s presence. He accepted his being the eved of Avraham.
Eliezer’s act of kida wasn’t just a gesture of thanks; it marked a profound spiritual realization. At that moment, Eliezer—an eved, a servant—transcended his status and recognized Hashem’s hand guiding everything. The shift from eved (a cursed status) to someone who could say Baruch Hashem was a spiritual transformation. His perspective had flipped.
Later in the parashah, Rivka meets Yitzchak for the first time. The Torah tells us that she “fell off her camel” upon seeing him. This seems like an odd detail. The Midrash explains that Yitzchak had just returned from a three-year sojourn in Gan Eden after the Akeidah.
The Megaleh Amukos explains that when Rivka met Yitzchak he was returning to this world from his three year sojourn in Gan Eden. Therefore, she witnessed a light and a brilliance emanating from a kedushah that was beyond this world. This prompted her to inquire: “Who is that man walking in the field toward us?” Indeed, that was Yitzchak returning, at that moment, from Gan Eden. This is how we can understand that Rivka looked up and was astonished by the brilliant, radiant unworldly light that enveloped Yitzchak, “and she fell off of the camel.”
One of the Baalei Tosfos on the Torah, the Riva explains that she saw Yitzchak coming from Gan Eden. He was walking as do the departed, with their feet upwards and their heads downward. This was the reason she was astonished when she saw Yitzchak walking, since she had not seen anything like that before.
Now, though, we need to explain this phenomenon revealed to us by the Riva. Why do the departed up in heaven walk in this manner, with their heads directed downward?
The Shvilei Pinchas11 explains that in the upper world, we aren’t able to advance spiritually with our own accord, rather, we are dependent on the Torah study and performance of mitzvos of our children. Only through the deeds of our children will we be able to walk and advance in the world above. Therefore the deceased walk with their heads oriented downward and their legs upward. This signifies that their entire thought process and strategy relies on those who remain below in this world. Only, by means of those down below, will they merit to walk and advance in the upper world.
The Shvilei Pinchas continues to illuminate our understanding of the Gemara12. Rav Yosef took ill and his neshama flew up to heaven. Afterwards, he recovered and his neshama returned to earth. His father, Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi, asked him what he saw up above. Rav Yosef replied: "ראיתי עולם הפוך — עליונים למטה ותחתונים למעלה" — "I witnessed an upside-down world; superiors were below and inferiors were above." His father said to him: "ראית עולם ברור — "You witnessed a proper, clear world.
Let us interpret the comments of Rav Yosef and Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi, based on the revelation of the Riva that we have been discussing. When Rav Yosef went up to the world of the souls, he claimed to have observed an “upside-down world”—rather than walking with their feet on the ground and their heads above, the deceased walked with their heads below and their feet above, i.e., an “upside-down world.”
He continued to explain his vision as follows: "ראיתי עולם הפוך — עליונים למטה ותחתונים למעלה". In other words, the reason they appeared to be walking upside down is because the "עליונים", those dwelling in the upper world, depend on the mitzvos of those "למטה", down below, in order to continue walking and advancing. The aspirations of those above lie below. Similarly, "ותחתונים למעלה" — those who dwell down below wish to benefit those above.
Also, those that dwell below in this world direct their prayers to heaven—seeking Hashem’s assistance to overcome their yetzers, so that they may observe the Torah and its mitzvos. This, too, is implied by the vision of "עליונים למטה ותחתונים למעלה". To this Rabbi Yehoshua the son of Levi responds: "ראית עולם ברור — "You saw things quite clearly, my son, and you understood them properly. Indeed, those who now dwell above yearn to advance spiritually in the merit of those that remain down below. Therefore, we, who remain in this world, must have the common sense to strive to serve Hashem to the utmost of our abilities and potential while we still have the opportunity to do so.
This theme of inversion finds its way into Chassidus as well. Reb Zusha of Anipoli, a student of the Maggid of Mezritch, famously performed headstands as part of his spiritual practice. When his brother, Reb Elimelech, who was not yet a Chassid, questioned him, Reb Zusha explained through a beautiful Mashal13: “This is my way of aligning with the King. You, holy brother, must find your own unique path.” This realization transformed Reb Elimelech, leading him to the Maggid and shaping the future of Chassidus.
The Baal HaTanya and his followers continued this practice, performing headstands before davening as a way to push away din or access a state of Gan Eden. While controversial14, it reflected the deeper Chassidic ideal of flipping perspectives to reveal Hashem’s presence in all things. When the Vilna Gaon heard this, he began the rejection of Chassidus. We can be normal and walk normally or we can be himmel-menschen and stand on our head, seeing beyond the default.
This brings us back to the Simchas Beis HaShoeva.
Explaining the Simchas Beis Hashoeva, Rav Michoel Borenstein explains that the function of the Simchas Beis HaShoeva was to draw down Ruach Hakodesh and to bring down Chesed into Din, as we explained above. He explains that when juggling 8 torches of light, Rav Shimon ben Gamliel was taking the Gevurah and the Chesed and bringing them into each other.15
It’s not a coincidence that this celebration begins on the Ushpizin of Yitzchak, whose essence is about flipping perspectives. The laughter of Yitzchak—schok—isn’t ordinary laughter. It’s a holy joy that comes from seeing the world upside down. It is the perspective of what seems lowly is elevated and what seems insurmountable is dissolved in the light of Hashem’s unity.
This, perhaps, is why Chazal say that one who hasn’t seen the Simchas Beis HaShoeva has never experienced true joy. There isn’t any greater simcha than the laughter of Yitzchak—a joy that comes from aligning our vision with Hashem’s, even when it seems counterintuitive.
Sukkah 50a
Shemos 4:31
Sefer Zichron Zos - Ki Tisa
See peirushim on the Zohar V1 44a:
אור החמה על ספר הזהר
וכאן קידה על אפים בלי פישוט ידים. אלא מחבר פניו אל הקרקע לכבוש הדין. והוא בסוד ההיכל הזה ושכל הרצון לכבוש הדין. והיינו אל אמונה ואין עול. החצונים. חפצים בדין וכאן אין עול. אלא צדיק וישר. והלואי שיגביר האדם הרחמים ויכבוש הדין:
יהל אור -
הכא קידה באפין. כצ"ל. וכמ"ש קידה על אפים [שנאמר ויקוד אפים ארצה], ר"ל על החוטם שחוטם לבד נוגע בארץ ולכן הוא כבד לעשות וכאן הוא סוד הגבורות שהוא בחוטם וכן הריח בחוטם יוצא מדקין כמ"ש בספר יצירה פרק ה:
Even Shlomo
Bereishis Rabbah 68:4
Pesachim 50.
A long time ago, a simple man and his virtuous wife lived in a small hamlet where they raised vegetables, had a modest orchard, and a little yard of livestock. Slowly, over the course of many years, they built up their homestead until it was quite prosperous. They hired hands, expanded their property, grew an increasing variety of produce, and made a very nice living.
One day, the farmer — now a prominent figure in the little village — turned to his faithful wife and said, “You know, we have such a lovely operation going on here, but tell me…what’s it all really for? I mean, what’s the point of it all?” His poor wife seemed confused.
He went on, “Our wise and kind king lives in the capital. All of his subjects adore him, and you know what I think? I think we’re really missing out on life.”
His wife asked, “What do you mean?”
The farmer answered, “We really need to get closer to the king. We never get to see him, we never even hear news of him! We’re just too far away here in our little village.”
His wife wondered aloud, “What do you want to do, then?” At that, the farmer brightened. “We could sell everything — all our livestock and property and land — and take the cash and move to the capital! It’s true, we wouldn’t be able to live in the city at the same standard as we live here, but we could get a little place, a little room close to the palace, and then we’ll be close to the king. I mean, what’s life worth if we can’t be near the king?”
And the farmer’s wife was a very good — even a righteous — woman, so she agreed. They sold everything, packed up the bare minimum into a horse-drawn wagon, and set off for the capital. With the money from the sale of their property, they managed to purchase a little place there, but it didn’t take long for them to realize that being neighbors to the palace doesn’t necessarily mean you’re close to the king. A monarch very rarely shows himself in public.
After some time, the farmer approached his wife again. “I’ve got to get into the castle, my dear.” He sounded a little desperate. Naturally, she wondered how he planned to do it. He said, “We still have a little money left over from the sale of our home. I think I should bribe some official there so I can get a job on the inside,” and she agreed. Anything to be close to the king!
Well, as they say, money talks. Our farmer found his connection and got himself a job within the palace. His new position? Assistant to the royal fire-arranger. Meaning, he got the entry- level job of stoking the furnace. But he did his job with so much enthusiasm that the stewards started to give him more and more responsibility, until he was soon upgraded to official fire-setter within the royal chambers. What a dream!
One day, the king was toasting his royal feet at the fender when he noticed that the fire was really arranged very skillfully. It was perfectly balanced, always fed just right, always burned down perfectly… somebody was clearly putting a lot of thought into making sure the royal fire was done properly. The king summoned the head steward and remarked that the fire in his chamber was just perfect.
The steward responded, “Actually, we have a new attendant taking care of it.” The king said with feeling, “This fire is something special. Whoever is setting it is really putting a lot of love and attention into it. I want to meet the man.”
So the next thing you know, the former farmer who gave up his comfortable life just to be in the king’s vicinity was standing face to face with his royal majesty.
The king looked right at him and said, “You know, I really love your fires; I can see that you put so much into making them just right. They burn so evenly, and the wood is set up perfectly.”
And the fire attendant was just melting as he stood there — he couldn’t believe he was hearing the king say such words to him, that he loves his fires. He blushed, overcome, and stammered, “It’s all for the king. It’s my pleasure.”
After a pause, the king said, “I’ve noticed your devotion and I want to give you a gift.”
And now the former farmer/fire attendant was ready to just faint. He interjected, “His Majesty doesn’t understand; the biggest gift I could receive is to be able to continue to make the royal fire. To be in the king’s service is the greatest gift there is.”
Now it was the king’s turn to blush; he was so moved by the response of a simple man. But he pressed the attendant, “Maybe you’re in need of money? Do you have children?”
The attendant answered, “No, Your Majesty. I have everything.” But the king insisted, “Please, think of something I can do for you.”
And this is what the former farmer/fire attendant, came up with:
“The thing I want most of all is to see the king whenever I want.” And the king blushed again; he could not believe the simple devotion of this attendant. The thing he wanted more than anything else in the world was to see his king!
Recovering his royal composure, the king answered patiently, “You know, that’s very flattering but it’s impossible to see me whenever you want because sometimes I’m not willing to be on view — I also have my private moments. Nevertheless, because you’ve proven to be so loyal and dedicated, I’ll do something else for you. I’ll have a special hole drilled into the chimney in my throne room, aligned exactly with my throne. From your side of the chimney wall, you’ll be able to look through the hole whenever you want. Whenever I’m sitting on my throne, you’ll be able to see me.”
Imagine the joy of this attendant! Every morning, before setting up the fire, he checked to see if the king was upon his throne. The day came when he caught a view of the entire royal family sitting down to a feast. As he watched, a drama unfolded. Evidently, the king had a little too much to drink, and when the prince said something flippant, his father got angry with him and banished him. “Leave the palace, and don’t come back for a year! Away with you!”
After only a few days of exile, the poor prince was half out of his mind. He was used to seeing the king all the time, and in an instant he became an outcast. Feeling like a caged animal, he took to roaming the grounds, regretting his impulsive behavior.
While pacing around the castle one morning, the prince spied a pair of feet sticking out of one of the chimneys of the palace. Who could it be? It was our attendant, of course, maneuvering himself into the space behind the chimney wall where his peephole was located. Curious, the prince approached the attendant and tapped the foot nearest to him. The fire attendant wriggled out of the chimney and found himself facing the banished prince. The royal personage asked him, half-joking, “What are you up to? Are you a chimney sweep or a spy?”
The fire attendant, covered with soot, said to the prince, “I know your whole story, and I’m going to show you something that will make you really happy.” He pushed the prince into his little space — headfirst! — so that he could lay his yearning eyes upon his father, the king.
After a few minutes, the prince emerged — all sooty — and said with feeling, “Thank you so much! It’s like balm to my wounded heart, just seeing my father’s face. Will you let me come back tomorrow? Please?!”
The fire attendant looked regretful and said, “Dear prince, you don’t understand. You’re part of the royal family, and this isn’t the way you should see your father. I’m just a lowly servant — this is my peephole, this is my way. This is how I can align with the king. But it’s not the right way for you to align with Him.” (As written by Rav Baruch Gartner in Living Aligned)
Pirkei d’Rabbi Eliezer
Talmud, Sukkah 52a.
Beginnings Chapter 6
For a full explanation al pi sod see Beis Shaar pg 550