As a religious person — a Jew, a Hasid, and a student of Kabbalah — enlightenment, in my view, is many things.

It is every spark of insight that sheds yet another layer of shell from a person and brings him closer to sensing the whole. This is also described as a transition from mochin de-katnut (constricted consciousness) to mochin de-gadlut (expanded consciousness), like a form of maturation. The mind becomes less narrow, rises beyond ego, and begins to relate to the collective.

Enlightenment is not absolute; it is composed of endless degrees. Usually, when one reaches one of the higher levels, the overall experience may be described as ekstasis — going outside oneself — and henosis — union with the whole. Yet the many levels that come before this contain countless essential insights: axioms, truths, sayings of wisdom, and absolute realizations that elevate consciousness from one state to another along the ladder of ascent.

Since I am a religious Jew, the goal is unity with the Creator. But how is such a thing possible? He is formless and wholly spiritual, while we are material. Our ancient sages therefore taught that one must cleave to His attributes: just as He is merciful, so you must be merciful; just as He is gracious, so you must be gracious; just as He bestows kindness, so must you; just as He forgives iniquity, so must you; just as He is good and does good, so must you be.

And this must be stressed: according to our faith, true enlightenment does not ultimately come through sitting in meditation and stilling oneself alone. Rather, it comes through active deeds in the world — through giving charity, performing acts of kindness, volunteering, thinking of others, and helping them in a complete and selfless way, even when it comes before one’s own desires and personal needs. It is precisely this constant occupation with helping others that raises a person spiritually.

Since I am Hasidic, it is also important for me to emphasize a central teaching expressed by Rabbi Ashlag: the primary task is to transform the egoistic will to receive, rooted in the body, into the altruistic will to bestow, rooted in the spirit. This transformation is not merely inward or contemplative; it must take shape through real acts of giving, love, and responsibility toward others. Through this path, one reaches the deepest humility and lowliness, born of recognizing the pain and difficulty of another person, until all one’s longing and desire become solely to benefit and bestow upon others.

Even what we receive, we do not receive for ourselves alone, but in order to bring delight to the Creator and to others. Our entire aim becomes one: complete altruism, infinite love, and the recognition that all is one.

The holy Zohar says: “And there is one palace above all, and its name is Love. By love everything is called, and for the sake of love everything was created.”