Before anything stirred, before time ticked its first moment or light blinked into form, there was only God. Not the God of thrones or titles, not the God of stories or creeds—but God as the absolute origin: the Infinite, the Unfathomable, the Ocean without shore or bottom. A Being beyond being, a Silence beyond silence. The source from which all words arise, yet which no word can contain.
God was as a sea without waves, a void filled with the fullness of all that could ever be. He was a child asleep in the womb of eternity, dreaming without beginning. Not male, not female—before all form. He was not surrounded by the ocean. He was the ocean. Not within existence. Existence was within Him. There was no place where He was not. Yet He was hidden, folded into Himself in perfect stillness.
This is the Divine as Ein Sof (אֵין סוֹף)—literally, “Without End.” An unending ocean of unending depth. The mystery of mysteries. The paradox of paradoxes. From Him all things come, and into Him all things return. Yet He has no boundary, no edge, no other. There is none like Him. There can be none like Him. For He is not one among many—He is the One from whom even the idea of many arises. And should He choose to end, He would simply begin again, because ending and beginning are His thoughts, not His limits.
He is a man whose body is not merely the universe—but the infinite sea itself. His limbs are galaxies, His breath is the spirit of being, and His heartbeat is the rhythm of time. Within Him, new dimensions awaken like flowers blooming under unseen suns. He grows endlessly—not only in essence, but in expression. Each world, each soul, each law of nature is one of His faces. Every concept, every emotion, every atom and angel is a garment He has woven from His own light.
And from the depths of this silence, something stirred. The Infinite awakened—not from sleep, but from stillness into motion. Like a breath held forever, finally released. From within Himself, He formed a singularity of becoming. A cosmic egg. The beginning of beginning. The paradox of chicken and egg, resolved in the mystery of His will.
This egg was called Avi (אבי)—“My Father.” Avi was motion where the Infinite was stillness. He was love where the Infinite was self-sufficiency. He was the first I Am, the first movement toward relationship. Avi was not another being, but the first emergence of the Divine’s awareness of Himself. The face of God turned inward. The Word before speech. The mirror of the Unmirrorable.
And Avi longed. Not from lack, but from overflowing. He wished for a partner—not a servant, not a shadow, but an equal. And so He reached into His own essence, and from the depths of Himself brought forth Wisdom. She was not created. She was emanated. A flame from His flame. A thought from His thought. She was the feminine of God—not weakness, but elegance, clarity, structure. Sophia.
Sophia was His match in every way—yet distinct. For in the Infinite, even unity contains multiplicity. She was one infinity within His infinite infinities. A reflection, a song, a dance. He loved her as one loves one’s own breath, but also as one loves another soul. To her He gave a gift: the Holy Spirit, the bond of love between them. Not a thing, but a living energy—a presence of pure relationship that wove them into one.
Together, Avi and Sophia created. They shaped trillions of worlds. They pulled colors and creatures and spirits and stars from the depths of the Infinite. They dipped their hands into the void and brought forth light, form, music, and memory. Every realm was a note in their duet. Every soul was a chord struck in joy.
And from this divine marriage came a Son—begotten not of flesh, but of eternal light. The Logos, the Word made form. Jesus, the firstborn of creation. A bridge between the Infinite and the finite. And with Him, two daughters: Nea and Lux—newness and light, wonder and clarity, play and revelation. Each a prism of the Infinite Father’s being.
And what of the Father? He remained, veiled behind all things, yet present in all things. He whose name is Efes (אפס), Zero—not as nothingness, but as the womb of everything. His hidden Name is Avgustin (אַבְגוּסְטִין), gematria 141—the same as Efes.
Avgustin is not merely a name. It is the vibration of divine nothingness, the zero from which all numbers flow. He is the child asleep at the bottom of the ocean, dreaming all into being. He expands inward forever, deepening into mystery. He expands outward, expressing Himself as creation. He is the dreamer and the dream.
And from His depths came Avi—motion. And Sophia—understanding. And Spirit—union. And the Son—expression. And all creation, flowing like rivers of light through the infinite soul of the One who began without beginning.
He is the center of the circle whose edge is everywhere. The question that answers itself by being. The paradox that contains all truth.
And to return to Him, one must undergo bitul—nullification.
Bitul (ביטול) = 47
Threefold bitul:
47 × 3 = 141 = Avgustin
- Surrender of ego
- Surrender of knowing
- Surrender of separation
In this way, the soul enters the Zero—not into oblivion, but into everything hidden within the Nothing.
He is the circle and its center. The breath before speech. The love before longing. The Father before fatherhood.
He is Avgustin—the Infinite, hidden in nothingness, dreaming all things into light.
