Living with 2,000 Klipot – How Do We Finally Peel Them Away?

We often think we’re asking for something when we pray, but really, the prayer itself is what gives us life.

It’s very strange, you know? The deepest depths of a person, you know... If I remove all the dust, all the layers, and all the skins, what’s left? If I get to the core of my being, the purest part, all I truly want is the best.

Deep, deep down, it’s pure. I want only good.

Let’s put it this way: even in my relationships, when I love someone deeply, deep down, all I really want is the best for them.

But until I reach that core, in the meantime, I also want what’s good for me, right?

Because, let’s be real, it’s covered with 2,000 klipot—layers of shells.

Think about parents, when they yell at their children. Deep down, they want what’s best for their kids. But they’re frustrated, hurt, maybe by something someone else said, and they take it out on their children. They pretend it’s for the child’s sake, but really, it needs a lot of cleaning, a lot of scrubbing to get down to that real, pure part.

Everything needs washing—like prayers that go to the Kineret to be cleansed before they ascend to the Heavenly Hosts.

We pretend, right? We say we’re eating just to live, but let’s be honest—sometimes we’re eating because we really like that cheesecake.

And yet, we learn that in Heaven, we’ll be held accountable for every legitimate pleasure we could have enjoyed but didn’t.

Let’s be honest. But if I eat just because I want that cheesecake, after I finish, nothing really changes, right? My life hasn’t become more pure or holy—just nothing happens. But if I could be on the level where I wash my hands before eating, maybe it would help a little bit.

You see, I’m not saying that everyone who washes their hands is eating cheesecake solely for the sake of living, you know? But it helps. There’s something to it.

Especially, you have to wash your hands before you pray. That’s very important. You know what Reb Tzadok HaCohen says from the deepest depths? Sometimes we ask, “How come the Master of the world didn’t answer my prayer?” And maybe we get a little angry. But the truth is, the Master of the world looked deep, deep into my heart and saw that I really didn’t want it—not deep down. But I didn’t know that yet. All my upper layers wanted it, but deep, deep, deep down, I didn’t really want it.

It happens to us a lot. We want things, and then years later, we look back and say, “Why did I want that? What did I need it for?” Crazy, right?

Eighty percent of the aggravation we experience comes from the outer shells, the klipot. My deepest inside didn’t even want it in the first place.

So why, at the very start of the day when I wake up, do I have to wash my hands? It’s very important, and we even make a bracha over it. Because in the morning, when I begin to live, I’m begging the Master of the world: “Please, let me live today, really live. Let me wash off all these outer layers and live from my deepest insides.” It’s a completely different life.

I'll tell you something deep. There’s a washing of the hands and a washing of the face.

Washing your hands means you’re washing off the outsides. My hands—they only touch the outside, right? They can only touch someone’s skin. I can’t put my hands into their kishkes unless I’m a doctor!

But washing the face—that’s already washing the inside. And that’s something we do once a day in the morning. Not just washing the outsides, but also, my face—my panim, my inside.

(Interruption: Rabbi L speaks up, not identified)

Rabbi L: Shlomo, what you say about Reb Tzadok HaCohen is good, but on a very simple level. Excuse me for saying it, but—

RSC: It doesn’t always work that way, you know.

Rabbi L: Let’s say you’re really praying for someone you love very, very much. Can you honestly say that deep down you didn’t want them to get well?

RSC: No, God forbid! You want to know something strong? Anything that is ‘always true’ is already a lie. There is no such thing as "always right."

Look, I could say you’re never allowed to turn on a light on Shabbos. But that’s not true, because if someone is sick, I have to. If someone has to go to the hospital, I have to drive on Shabbos. The sign of something truly alive is that it moves—it adapts. So if Reb Tzadok HaCohen says about prayers that “if you don’t want it, it won’t happen,” it’s not always true, you know?

Think about it: a Yid in Auschwitz, nebach, was praying, "Master of the world, please let me live," and then nebach, he was killed the next day. Will you say he didn’t mean it? He meant it, gevalt! But there’s something to it, you know?

I’ll tell you something strong. A little girl from New York called me. For two years, she was praying that this boy would like her. Then, in the third year, they finally met, and he really wanted to marry her. She took one look at him and thought, "Crazy! What do I need him for?"

For two years, she was angry at the Master of the world, and in the end, she realized—taka gornischt! The Master of the world was right all along. What did she need him for?

Rabbi L:

Some people resist this idea, but as much as we have a tremendous desire to live, we've also discovered that there are death wishes.

RSC:

Let me tell you something very deep. When you pray, you can only pray with your life wishes, not with your death wishes. Only the part of you that wants life can pray. The part of you that wants death—it's already given up. You know, when someone stops praying, they’re almost dead already. Reb Nachman says something so powerful. We often think we’re asking for something when we pray, but really, the prayer itself is what gives us life. It’s like plugging into the electricity of the world. Sure, maybe I want to hear the radio, but that’s secondary. The main thing is that I’m plugged into life itself.

And Reb Nachman says something even deeper. We think life is about what’s permitted and what’s forbidden. But there’s something much more profound. It’s not just about kosher or not kosher—it’s about what’s good for you in this moment.

You might say, “A kvais steak is kosher, right?” But maybe, at this moment, I have a stomachache, so it’s not good for me. Just because something is kosher doesn’t mean it’s right for you right now. It’s deeper than right and wrong; it’s about whether something is truly good for you at this moment.

So, when we talk about washing before davening, washing in the morning, it’s not just about doing what's right or wrong. It’s about reaching a level of what is good. And not just "good or bad," but what is good for this moment. Sometimes something isn’t even bad, but it’s not good for right now, you know?

Let me share something deep with you. There’s day and night, darkness and light—but on Shabbos, there’s no night. The Torah doesn’t say “it was evening and it was morning” for Shabbos. It says, “And it was Shabbos, Yom HaShvii, the seventh day.” The light of Shabbos is so pure, it’s not even capable of being night or darkness.

You see, usually, we can point out what’s bad and what’s good. This is good, and this is better. But there’s a level of goodness so high, you can’t compare it to something being better or worse. It’s just... good. The purest good there is.

Let me put it this way: The world only knows peace because they think war is bad. But what do they really know about peace? They think if we stop killing each other, that’s peace. But they don’t have a taste of what is mamesh good.

So, when we wash our hands before eating, we’re asking the Master of the world to give us a taste of that goodness. To wash away all the stuff that’s just allowed or not allowed and bring us into what’s mamesh good. Especially before eating, if we receive the food with that intention of true goodness, then after we eat, we won’t feel the desire to do anything wrong. Our physical strength will be so purified that we just won’t have it in us to do something bad.

Let me tell you something very strong. You can sit down with friends, eat a meal, and somehow, they have this urge to say something negative about another person. Why? The Master of the world just gave you strength through the food—so why would you turn around and use that strength for something negative? Even though the food was kosher, maybe it wasn’t good. If we receive something on the level of true goodness, it’s a whole different experience.

This connects with what Reb Nachman says about uplifting the level of fear. It’s so deep. The hardest thing in the world is to understand what it really means to fear the Master of the world. It’s the highest, holiest thing.

You know, after Avraham Avinu was ready to sacrifice Yitzchak, the Master of the world said to him, “Now I know that you truly fear Me.” Can you imagine what Avraham went through? Of course he feared the Master of the world before! But this was the ultimate purity of fear.

And we have to understand—this fear isn’t like walking down the street, afraid someone will pull a gun on you. That’s not what fear of the Master of the world is. It’s something else entirely. The Ishbitzer says something so powerful. When we experience ordinary fear, like someone pointing a gun at us, we tremble and shake. The more afraid we are, the more we shake.

But with fear of the Master of the world, it’s the opposite. The more fear we have, the stronger and more grounded we become. It’s a strength that makes us steady, unshaken.