Sparks and Meteor Showers

This year, I’m organizing a trip out to the desert with friends and family to watch the Perseid meteor shower. It’s a chance to step away from the daily grind, be in nature, and share a moment together under the vast sky. But this time, there’s more on my mind than just the beauty of shooting stars.

The peak of the meteor shower comes right around Tisha B’Av—the day we mourn the destruction of the Beit HaMikdash, the Holy Temple. That timing isn’t random. In Kabbalah, there’s the teaching of “shvirat hakeilim”—the breaking of the vessels. When divine light first entered creation, the vessels meant to contain it shattered, scattering sparks of holiness across existence. Our role is to gather those sparks and bring healing.

What if this breaking wasn’t just spiritual or metaphorical? What if it left a physical imprint on the cosmos? Maybe the meteor showers—the bright fragments blazing through our night sky—are the remnants of that cosmic shattering. Sparks still falling, still reminding us of what was lost, and calling us to repair.

This cosmic event parallels the destruction of the Temple itself, a moment of immense spiritual rupture. Every year, the heavens reflect that event—bursting with light, scattering sparks for all to see.

What I learned as a kid, but never fully grasped, is that mourning on Tisha B’Av isn’t the end. It’s the beginning of a journey. The Shabbat after, Shabbat Nachamu, is called “Comfort,” kicking off seven weeks of consolation and healing that lead us to Rosh Hashanah—the new year, a time of renewal and hope.

But there’s more. We live in a world full of mysteries—people talk about aliens, angels, cosmic forces. Maybe these aren’t separate ideas but different ways of understanding the same reality. What if angels, divine beings, or spiritual forces are part of the very fabric of the universe? What if unexplained phenomena, cosmic signals, and bursts of light are physical expressions of spiritual realities we’re only beginning to sense?

I don’t claim to have all the answers, but I believe it’s time to open our minds to the possibility that the spiritual and physical aren’t two worlds, but one interconnected whole. The stars aren’t just distant balls of gas; they could be messages, sparks of divine light, calling us to awaken and pay attention.

This trip, then, isn’t just about watching meteors. It’s about reconnecting—with nature, with the cosmos, and most importantly, with myself. To step away from the noise, from the daily grind, and find clarity in the vastness around me. To remember who I am beneath all the layers of life, and to feel that deep connection to something greater—something both ancient and alive.