A Curtain Removed
And so we enter the Yosef saga. The story begins with Yosef as a teenager among his family in Canaan and continues after he is sold down to Egypt by his brothers. These two parts of the story are not told in the same way. There is a striking change once Yosef reaches Egypt: suddenly the narrative is filled with references to God. The beginning description of the family dynamics and Yosef’s dreams and the brothers’ hatred and scheming and then of Yaakov’s terrible grief, all of that narrative does not mention God once. Then we get to Yosef’s slavery in Egypt and the first thing we hear is Veyhi Hashem et Yosef. God was with Yosef (Genesis 39:2). And from there it continues, with God’s name being mentioned again and again, five times in the initial description alone. It’s as if a curtain has been removed and suddenly the full glory of God’s presence is revealed.
Perhaps pausing here and feeling into that possibility for you, the possibility of moving from a place of not seeing God at all to a place of revelation, as if the sky has been covered over with clouds for days, or perhaps years, and now the clouds part and the sun is revealed. You see God everywhere, all around you and inside yourself most of all; you feel God’s presence in you with clarity and certainty.
Removal of Yosef’s Special Coat
How does such a transformation take place? Looking at the parsha, I want to suggest that the change for Yosef is related to the removal of his special cloak by his brothers, that the loss of this coat represents the shedding of an outer layer that allows Yosef greater access to his own divine core. Indeed, a curtain has been removed for Yosef here, the curtain represented by the striped cloak his father gave him as a sign of his favoritism. The brothers dip this coat in blood and his father thinks this means Yosef has died. Maybe there is some truth to that – something has indeed died in Yosef, this external layer of identity, shed like the old skin of a snake, making room for something deeper and more sacred to shine through.
Our Own Layers
Maybe that is how it works for us. We have layers of conditioning and protective armor and ego strategies and attachments and insecurities, what kabbalists call klipot, husks or shells, and these layers block the divine light that is at our core. Yosef’s cloak is a symbol of such a protective ego layer, a symbol of such a husk, that, like, an orange peel, needs to be removed in order to access the juicy fruit inside.
I invite you to feel into some of your own layers and coats. We all have them. Some we were bequeathed by our family and culture and others we developed on our own as a way to cope with unbearable pain, as a form of protection for our vulnerabilities. Not judging yourself for the existence of such husks, but seeing if you can bring any of them to your awareness. They are burdens and false beliefs and strategies – things like self loathing or a sense of victimhood or unworthiness or inferiority or superiority (they go together) – things that block you from accessing God and your own divine essence, stuck places that feel heavy and impossible, where the core beliefs are disempowering and constricting, making you forget who you really are.
Your coat may manifest like Yosef’s coat of favoritism, this need to be put on a pedestal above everyone else in order to matter, the pressure of needing to be “special” and superior, how that is actually an extra coat, a weight, or the constant need for external validation and approval and success, or the sense of competition with others, feeling not generous, or the worry about what others think of you, the external facing of that coat, performance and people pleasing. Or anything else that you sense as a block to your simple pure divine essence, your temimut, who you would be if you were just being true to yourself without affect or self consciousness or posturing or masks or fancy footwork designed to impress.
Taking Them Off
What if we experimented with taking off some of those coats – or allowing life to take them off for us – seeing what it feels like to not wear a fancy jacket, to not do fancy footwork, to not try to impress anyone, to not try to be special or the best or extraordinary, to not worry about our reputation, to let go of that identity and sink a little deeper. If we imagine all these layers as coats, we can see that they are not intrinsic to us. We can let them fall off and still be ourselves, as Yosef was still Yosef, perhaps even more so, without his coat. Asking yourself: Who are you without that role, that capacity, that job, that healthy body, that relationship? We lose so much in our lives, a continual diminishment as we age, a shedding of coats. Who are we in essence underneath all of that? What remains?
Maybe imagining some of your coats coming off right now, just letting them fall off your shoulders and watching them fly off gently in the breeze. It’s ok. You’re still you. Maybe even sensing some relief. It’s actually more relaxing to live without so many coats, without the burden of a reputation to uphold, an ego to feed, a particular self image or body type to maintain.
A Story And A Dream
A mussar story (taken from Netivot Shalom on Sukkot) is told about a king who was very sick. He was told the only way he could get better is if he could put on the coat of a person without any worries or concerns. His servants travelled far and wide looking for such a person but could not find one. Finally they found a man who said he had no worries at all, but alas, he did not own a coat. He explained to them that if he had a coat, he would then be preoccupied with making sure he didn’t lose it. This way he had no worries.
I had a dream recently in which all my jewelry was taken away except for the rhinestones in my ears. In the dream, I had the thought – that’s ok, maybe it’s better this way; then I can just wear the same simple rhinestones every day and not have to think about it.
I’m not advocating getting rid of all your physical coats or jewels. But emotionally there is some truth here, that we spend a lot of time and energy maintaining and worrying about our coats and jewels, our egos, our special status, our insecurities, our appearance, what others think of us. The kutonet pasim, Yosef’s striped coat, was striking and colorful, but it was also a prisoner’s uniform with its stripes. Such coats of favoritism can be for us both a prize and a prison, keeping us locked into the work and worry of maintaining them. It’s exhausting and depleting, and meanwhile, there is the simple shine of the rhinestone, our very basic essence, that we are ignoring.
The Snowsuit
All those layers upon layers of clothing separate us from that pure light inside us. These layers we accumulate, they were meant to protect that self, that vulnerable essence, that light, but instead, over time, they block it out so completely that we struggle to know who we really are. Like a child all bundled up in a puffy snowsuit, if you touch them, you can’t feel the structure of their bones underneath, it’s just all layers of cloth and puff. Maybe sensing how buried your core self is under all those layers at times, and also sensing your deep longing to just be yourself, the longing to return to your own simplicity and purity, letting go of all the complications, just your authentic essence, no pretense, no masks. Sensing the restfulness of that.
Yosef and God
This is what happened to Yosef. Though the process was surely painful, once his special coat was removed, there was a purifying of his essence, a letting go of the superiority and arrogance of his youth, a clearing of internal space so that the light of God was free to emerge and be revealed inside him. Vayehi Hashem et Yosef. God was with Yosef. Such a simple thing. And yet what else is there? What other desire could surpass that? We think what we want is to be famous or special or superior or successful, but all of those are external coats. They are trying to fill a hole they cannot fill, to solve a problem that is at the core of who we are – to know our own intrinsic value. If our mattering, our value, is based on all those other things, on our father deeming us the favorite, on the world thinking we are special, we will still not know it. We have to let go of all those external agendas, to take off those coats, and discover that just as we are, God is with us, just as we are, in our core essence, that’s where our worth is, where our divine light is, where God dwells with us, always and unconditionally.
This is so grounding. Yosef’s coat was snatched away from him, and what he discovered underneath was that he didn’t need that coat of special status and identity. He had a deeper, more grounded identity in God that was not dependent on the whims of his family or his life circumstances. He could be grounded in himself even as a slave, even in jail. Coats can be taken away from you, but this other thing we are talking about, this can never be taken away. It is the core of who you are. Coats imprison us, but when we take them off, we can even be in prison and still be free. Because we are attached to the most fundamental core essence of ourselves, and that is always ours, a divine gift. God is always with us there, wherever we are externally. Your roots are so much deeper than the particulars you associate your identity with. Your roots are deep in the earth and up in the sky, beyond where the human mind can fathom.
Many Coats, A Long Process
I’m not going to pretend it is easy, this shedding of coats. Yosef had to do it more than once. At Potiphar’s house, he was rising up in the ranks and it seems he forgot again what his true ground was. The rabbis say he became preoccupied with his appearance, constantly looking in the mirror and grooming himself, a new ego layer, another coat of sorts (Rashi on Genesis 39:6). And so Potiphar’s wife grabs a hold of his coat and he leaves it there, shedding a coat once again (39:12). After that, while Yosef is in jail, the Torah says again – vayehi Hashem et Yosef. God was with Yosef (39:21). Yosef shed another layer and returned again to his core self, returned to the sense of God in him. We have to do it again and again, like layers of an onion, moving deeper and deeper inside us.
It’s a long process. I suspect Yosef may shed yet another coat when he comes out of jail (41:14), but that’s another story, another parsha. The point is that for us, too, it’s not simple. There are many layers, many coats, built up over a lifetime. Many of them we don’t even see; they are so much a part of us we have trouble discerning and untangling from them. The work is to notice what stands in the way of our freedom, what stands in the way of accessing our divine truth, to notice the bars, to realize that, though the rewards of favoritism and specialness might feel good for a moment, they actually keep us trapped; it’s a golden cage. Just the act of noticing gradually does the work of freeing us, letting the layers disintegrate through the power of our awareness over time until more and more, our essence emerges.
Focusing On The Inner Guide
Not worrying about where you are in the process or how many layers you have shed or not shed. Just focusing on what matters most here – the divine essence inside you – letting that light guide you like a lighthouse in the sea, pointing your way home, helping you discern where to go, what to let go of and what to hold on to. And letting yourself feel, like Yosef, the truth of veyhi Hashem et, that God is with you. That accompanying presence may be covered over at times, but it is always there underneath. Knowing that, you can relax and let all else fall away for the moment, resting in that place inside you, your core divine light shining brighter than any jewel or colorful coat ever could.
