Real Freedom Feels Good!
Wholeness, Joy, and the Divine Pleasure of Being.
The Exodus from Egypt was not just a historical event. It was the moment a new paradigm entered the world, the birth of the idea that the human being can be truly and essentially free.
Until that time, most people lived under some form of subjugation to others. Even rulers like Pharaoh may have been free living without physical chains, but their freedom was superficial, enslaved to ego, power, and illusion. The world had never encountered the idea that a human being could be inwardly free: free from domination, from external control, from the noise of ego and fear. That idea was born the moment a group of shattered slaves walked out of Egypt. Freedom became not just the absence of slavery, but the presence and awareness of essence.
This new potential was introduced into the world marked the beginning of a journey and unfolding of a deeper possibility for the universe. It was the potential for a person to live in deep connection with their truest self, unshaped by external forces and fully in touch with the Divine spark within. The potential for a human being to operate in a state of flow, to feel pleasure and joy from simply existing, was now alive in the world. In other words: real freedom feels good. It uplifts. It heals. It is us experiencing ourselves.
As part of this paradigm shift, the Torah was provided as a structure and a safe space within which to create the conditions for individual expansiveness, expression, self-growth, and self-actualization with the goal of reaching presence and awareness of essence.
As time went on, more and more weight was placed on the structure itself, the rituals, the rules, the external form. But the inner purpose it was meant to serve, a sense of worthiness, self-actualization, joy, and true freedom was gradually forgotten. People were taught that holiness meant obedience not aliveness. That feelings didn’t matter or worse, that pleasure and delight were dangerous. In this shift, emotional truth was pushed aside. The structure remained, but the soul it was meant to awaken was often left untouched.
In fact, the complete opposite is true.
If what we call freedom doesn’t result in a state of joy, peace, and inner pleasure it may not be freedom at all.
There are many places in Judaism where this truth is visible, but nowhere is it more crystal clear than in Shabbat. Shabbat is filled with laws and restrictions, but its purpose? Delight, Pleasure. The Torah describes it as Oneg, a time of pleasure, presence, and peace. Even the World to Come is referred to as a time that is entirely Shabbat—an era of eternal pleasure.
And this brings us to Pesach.
Pesach isn’t just about telling the story of something that happened. It’s about entering the story. The entire structure of the Seder is designed to take us on a journey not just historically, but internally.
Where other mitzvot may zoom in on a specific moment of Divine or mindful awareness, the Haggadah zooms out. It asks us to examine the entire concept of freedom not just in action, but in essence. Who am I when I am free? What does it mean to feel free in my body, in my emotions, in my consciousness? How do I get there?
Held in sacred space, the Seder is a structured ceremony—a ritual journey designed to shift consciousness. Layer by layer, it peels back the surface of the self, inviting us to remember, reimagine, and reconnect.
The Haggadah walks us through many parts of our psyche: the wise, the confused, the curious, the self-destructive—each representing a different facet of our emotional journey as we grapple toward freedom.
And we don’t just talk about it we live it. We taste, we drink, we move as we recline. Each action draws the experience deeper into the body, deeper into memory. The rituals aren’t for remembrance alone they’re designed for integration. This night isn’t about information. It’s about transformation.
Even if we are all wise, all understanding, and deeply knowledgeable in Torah it is still a mitzvah to tell the story of the Exodus. Not because we don’t know it, but because we’re still living it.
Every year, we are invited to take the next step in the journey from ego to essence, from selfhood to oneness, from exile to freedom. This year we are in slavery, caught in whatever still binds us. Next year in Jerusalem, the inner kind where we arrive after the journey. But each year brings new layers, new work. And each year, a new Jerusalem awaits.
And the ultimate sign that we’ve touched real freedom? Existence itself becomes a source of delight.