Our Shift to Bestowal
- Bradley J Cleary
- Mar 9
- 6 min read

We live in a world built upon reason.
It is the foundation of everything we trust—our senses, our logic and the structures we rely on to tell us what is real.
And within this framework, we learn to navigate life, to make choices and to assign meaning.
But what happens when reason is no longer enough?
What happens when the logic we once stood on begins to feel unsteady?
When the explanations we’ve built our world upon no longer answer the deeper questions that surface in us?
Because at some point, whether we acknowledge it or not, we all reach that moment.
A subtle dissonance.
A quiet sense that something isn’t quite lining up.
That maybe reality is larger than we’ve allowed ourselves to see.
This is where reason reaches its limit.
And what lies beyond?
The Kabbalah, which translates directly as The Reception, teaches that everything is inside us.
It is the study of Human Nature to understand the Nature of Creation.
The world we see is not separate from us—it is an extension of each of us, of our individual perceptions.
We do not simply observe reality; we participate in shaping it.
And for most of our lives, we do this unconsciously, filtering our experiences through the question: What does this mean for me?
For me, this questioning only ever led to a cycle I couldn’t escape.
No matter how hard I tried, as you have read throughout this series, my world continued to shatter—
The more I sought to understand myself within reason, the more I felt trapped inside it.
I didn’t see that I was the one holding onto it, unable to let go of the search for answers that would place me at the centre.
And yet, some part of me always knew there are things we must answer to.
Whether I or we believe that moment comes in this world or the next, there is an undeniable meeting with something beyond ourselves.
And in anticipation of that, humanity has evolved into an endless fight:
Right against wrong.
Light against dark.
Oppressed against oppressor.
We justify, we defend, we struggle, but the cycle continues.
But there comes a day, when that path has been so heavily trodden that we feel within ourselves that there is nowhere left to go. And with it, a life altering realisation—not of collapse, but of possibility.
That in the breaking, there is a chance to act correctly.
That the meaning of life is already within me—in my heart.
And that the only way out is to rise above my individual desire, the prison of ‘what about me.’
This is where our mood and attitude become everything.
Choosing the next state on our journey requires us to embrace the one most different from our current nature.
It requires a step above reason into the realm of Faith—what Kabbalists call faith above reason.
Reason, rooted in logic and sensory experience, forms the basis of our understanding of the world.
But there are aspects of life that go beyond pure reason, leading us to explore Faith—not as belief, but as a perception beyond the limits of the mind.
What does this mean for me?
This is the nature of reception.
But what does this mean beyond me?
This is the shift above reason.
My teacher describes this transition simply:
Exertion in above reason is the path where everything is solved—whatever we are facing, if we see it above reason, we will see the solution and how to get to it.
This is where we move from taking to something greater.
A state where we stop measuring life by what we receive, and instead experience reality as an interconnected whole.
This is bestowal.
Not charity.
Not sacrifice.
But an opening—a widening of perception.
A step beyond the mind’s certainty, into something far greater.
Faith above reason is not belief without proof. Not blind trust.
But the willingness to step beyond what we can rationally justify—not in ignorance, but in expansion.
To enter a way of seeing where the self is no longer the only centre, but where self becomes aware and a participant in something larger.
And no this is not philosophy.
It is experience.
And it is the root of everything.
The Nature of Creation is Bestowal.
And we, on the opposite end, are Reception.
For so long, we have tried to resolve the contradiction.
Light or dark.
Good or bad.
Faith or reason.
We seek answers that bring finality, clarity, resolution.
But what if there is no resolution to begin with?
What if we are meant to choose both one and the other, to exist in the place between?
Like night and day, we live in both.
A time for dawn and a time for dusk.
Just like we are here, living our lives in nature, stepping through both.
We are faith, and we are reason.
We are certainty, and we are doubt.
We are not torn between forces—we move through them.
This is not struggle.
This is mastery.
A life fully lived is not one that remains in the night or the day, but one that moves fluidly between them, understanding their purpose.
Faith above reason is not a destination.
It is a state of movement.
A space where we no longer seek to resolve the paradox, but to stand in it fully—to recognise that it is in the presence of both light and dark, certainty and uncertainty, that we come closest to truth.
The world is shifting.
No denying.
Everyone can feel it.
The systems that once felt immovable are unraveling.
The structures we relied upon are revealing their fragility.
What we once took for granted as solid ground no longer holds in the way it used to.
For many, this feels like chaos.
Collapse.
But what if it is a necessary breaking?
What if the cracks appearing in the world are not signs of destruction, but invitations—openings through which we might begin to see something more?
Because that’s what happens when perception expands.
The familiar world does not disappear, but it does lose its absoluteness.
We start to see what was always there, just beyond the edges of our certainty.
And it’s where we have the opportunity for the real questions.
In this blog I share my own journey and there is no guarantee that anything you have read has landed in you.
And there is no failure on either part if it hasn’t.
Because none of this is about accepting an idea.
It is about feeling the movement of your own questioning.
Maybe something in you recognises this shift, even if you can’t yet define it.
Maybe nothing here resonates, but there is another question stirring in you—one you have not yet fully allowed yourself to ask.
Or maybe, this is simply another piece of information, one that will settle into the background until the moment arrives when it suddenly makes sense.
There is no right way to step into this.
But if there is one thing I have learned, it is this:
The questions we are most afraid to ask are the ones that hold the greatest potential for expansion.
So what is your question?
Once you begin to ask, you embark on this journey of reasoning to faith.
And it is essential to recognise that the power of growth is through opposites.
Each reasoning form represents a distinct step on the path to understanding life's purpose.
We continuously transition from one state to another, and adjacent levels are divided by moments of descent and ascent.
Much like a plant grows by having its roots deeply embedded in the soil while simultaneously reaching for the sky, we, too, grow through the need of two opposite environments.
The greater the immersion into a particular reasoning form, the greater its effects, allowing us the opportunity to discover whole new worlds of self-exploration by questioning.
Not my question.
Not my teacher’s.
Not one that has been handed to you by the world.
But you and yours.
The questions that are waiting inside you.
The ones that, if fully pursued, would change everything.
And if you follow it— I want to leave you with this one last thought.
Who are you talking to?
Who have you been asking all this time?
Because at some point, every question turns into a conversation.
And that is between you—
and the One who has been calling you all along—
You are not alone. None of us are.
Bradley J Cleary
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