Regarding THE POSSIBLE MAN: honoring Meir Michel Abehsera

Honoring Meir Michel Abehsera author ofThe Possible Man: Life in the Shadow of the Just : voiced by Before the Page host Charlie Mehrhoff. 

The Possible Man: Life in the shadow of the Just  -  by Meir Michel Abehsera, Swanhouse Press. 

Transcript

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Before we come to the page, before the first word is ever written down or read or listened to, there is a longing to connect. My name is Charlie Merhoff, your host here at Before the Page, a podcast featuring poetry, parable, fiction and none words to echo our longing. The people stand aside to let the idiot pass. He walks a few steps and suddenly stops. Tears are streaming down his cheeks. The war is raging, he cries, and you are still debating with me. Don't fight me, fight the enemy, but know how to do it, for he is illusion. This is the reason why he appears so overwhelming. So take my advice, have no pity, use your breath, whistle as I do. With the breath of pleasure we have sinned, and through breath we shall be redeemed. Yes, the war is raging, and those words you just heard come from a most crucial book, The Possible Man Life in the Shadows of the Just, written by Mer Michael Abshera, and welcome, you are most welcome to this our thirty second episode of Before the Page. These words you are about to hear were composed by the reader with great gratitude, awe and respect for the radiance of Mer Michael Abshera, also known as the Rebbe's Whistler, author of the Possible Man. This is titled Beyond Ourselves, and it begins with a quote from the Possible Man. We stood in the hills of Judea, bathed in the early morning light, gathered about our army chief, from whose holy mouth flew white birds of peace. Absher is the name of a family of mystics that once lived in Morocco. Perhaps some still do. It has been said that Absher means master of the flying carpet. Mair Michael Absher's parents relocated to France when he was just ten. Throughout his life Mare's visionary nature allowed him to thrive at most anything to which he turned his attention. He worked as a blacksmith and as a draftsman. He became a civil engineer. He made music. Others knew him as a magnificent and noble dancer. In nineteen sixty four, Mare moved to the United States with his wife Esther. His plan was to write a novel. Instead, upon seeing so many people who were ill and becoming ill due to a lost link with the medicinal power of food, the Absherz opened up a restaurant where they dished up delicious macrobiotic cuisine. Mare published books on natural medicine and food preparation. He also gave talks about healthy eating, talks laden with humor, scientific observations, spiritual insights and anecdotes. His renown as a speaker grew. Mare was in demand. Mare and Esther came to deeply embrace the faith of their ancestors. On Saturday nights, extending the glory of the Sabbath, the Apsharas hosted large gatherings where they feasted scores of people, even strangers. The Lubavacharebi warned the couple about the risk of financial ruin if they continued the practice. They continued it. It was as if the Apsharers were created to give themselves away. Mare moved on from writing and speaking about health and nutrition to the ever noble task of healing souls. He composed a literary masterpiece, The Possible Man, a book of such striking power and mystical insight that it has been known to imbue readers with an inexorable creative force. Mare truly knew that anything was possible, that there was no limit to the spiritual heights a human being could attain. In the early 1970s, in the midst of a large gathering, the Rebbe put his fingers to his mouth, looked through the crowd, made eye contact with Mare, and motioned for him to whistle. This was a most unusual request as whistling was tacitly forbidden. It was considered a behavior that was out of character for the pious. Although Mer wondered if he had read the Rebbe correctly, he whistled. He continued whistling. With everything he had Mare whistled. Others, feeling his passion, joined in. Although the Rebbe was criticized for encouraging whistling, it did not stop him from requesting that Mare whistle at future gatherings. Through whistling many were able to pour themselves out before the Almighty, and with a vigor and purity that words or music could never convey. There is no instrument between the whistler and the sound. There are no words. When one is focused completely on whistling, words do not run to the mind. By offering wave after wave of soul-filled breath, the whistlers were able to escape the shackles of thoughts and negative impulses. They were able to tap into the purity of their essential nature. They were able to permeate the air with the sound of rapturous awe that Israel is charged to deliver to mankind. Perhaps when the whistling was being offered up, at least for a moment the Almighty had no ears for Israel's accusers. The Rabbi recalled the position that the esteemed sage Rambam Maimonides took on whistling. King David not only danced and whistled before God, he danced and whistled with all his might, while dressed in royal garb while he was king, knowing that he was being watched from the windows. Knowing that whistling was infusing his people with new vitality, the Rebbe went on. May this bring forth the fulfillment of the verse on that day God will whistle. God himself will whistle to call together the entire Jewish people from all corners of the world. For me, discovering this history regarding whistling came as a breath of fresh air, truly. Often I would find myself awake in those hours before dawn, awake with thoughts of woe and despair, thinking of the struggles in this world, the endless wars, the corruption, the tribalism, the terrorism, the poverty and hunger, the lack of respect for the earth, all of mankind's ongoing troubles. And if that wasn't enough, I begin to worry about friends and family members. This would spiral into negative self-talk, fears about my personal situation. These abstractions had no solution, none that could be solved with reason. I was a helpless and hopeless wreck until the whistling. My pre-dawn whistling occurs in a whisper, a barely audible whisper. It is a private affair, yet driven by a desire for the unity of mankind. This whispered whistling carries me beyond all fears. It continues until exhaustion takes hold, until all traces of self are gone, and only pure love, the core of being remains. Who can actually articulate God's perfect plan to God Himself? Who actually knows, especially when life often looks and feels to be, for so many, the opposite of perfection. Through all of the sorrow, through all of the suffering, we can merely echo the joy of knowing that the plan is perfect, is beyond ourselves. This was dedicated to Aura with great gratitude. She was the one who turned this reader in the direction of the possible man. Here are a few words from the chapter The Knight of the Just within the Possible Man. Since all of us descend from Adam who was the first to experience the fall, it is said that upon seeing the sun set for the first time, he experienced a great anguish, certain that darkness had settled on the world because of his sin. That very same night he took two stones and struck them one against the other until sparks flew. Though such a simple act seemed to hold little promise of transcendence, it was, in fact, the initial stroke that impelled him to return to the Garden of Eden. Poor though it may have been, the light of the fire gave him comfort, and so he blessed it. The memory of that past makes of Saturday night a most opportune time for new beginnings. Anticipation of something new happening is never so great, which is the reason why this night is known as the night of the Redeemer. According to tradition, the Redeemer will reveal himself in the wink of an eye, even when all the signs and estimations will concur to proclaim his coming. He will surprise everyone, wicked or wise, and also the cautious, those who prefer not to speak about him, from fear of exasperating others' skepticism, or from taking the risk of spoiling the suspense of his coming. Above all, he will most likely surprise those who think and speak of him constantly, even those who serve him. In accordance with that, we are left with no other alternative than to opt for the obvious. The Redeemer will surprise primarily those who expect him the most, as a mother is surprised by the presence of her child, the same with couples or true friends for the simple reason that true surprise hits more strongly those who have much life in them, others who have less, who will most likely find it hard to react enthusiastically to the news. Going to finish this episode of Before the Page with a reading from the chapter entitled The High Road in The Possible Man. Here Mare was writing about the Balsham Tov, the saintly teacher of the rich and poor, who revealed that memory is redemption. There is no limit to what memory can achieve. It is the source, the common font which, when tapped, can resolve all contradictions and remind all people that they are at once equal and unique. Bound to our past, assured of our future, we are freed to become ourselves. One who remembers his origin in dust and ashes, and his end as a nest of worms becomes humble enough to be crowned a king. Memory is the medium of a settled mind. It is the best medicine too, for no matter who or what the agent of healing may be, real cure is effected by the strength that is found within. It is a process of reawakening to the model of health that is stored within our genes. But how soon memory slips away when we are hit with some passing misfortune. One might be snubbed inadvertently by a tactless friend, and in a moment of emotional upset lose sight of all the good that has been accrued from a lifelong friendship. Or a son might forget all the care his parents gave him after a castigation or a clash. He bears the hurt in his heart and survives by assuming a posture of indifference while unknown to him, the hurt turns to hatred and rage. Years pass and he roams rootless and estranged. Even in the midst of his successes, he is susceptible to depression and disease. Trauma taints his vision, and he cannot see the whole. He will find correctives that achieve half the cure, will move from contrivance to contrivance, all futile, unless he turns a blind eye to his grievances so truly as to forget all insults and takes the high road. That, if I may be so bold, is the prerequisite phase of memory at its best, to forget the bad and remember the good. Thank you. Thank you also very much for listening to this episode of Before the Page, which is devoted to the possible man, Mare Michael Abshera. If you have yet to read The Possible Man, we hope that you are now curious and will get a copy and read it. Again, uh thank you all so very much. If you wish to reach out to BeforeThePage, that's easy enough. Just go to beforeThepage at gmail.com and it's spelled just how it sounds before the page at gmail.com. Until the next and be well.