By Alvin Raúl Cardona (Northfield, IL)
People often ask me where I feel closest to God. Of course, one of the main places is in my synagogue, when praying with a minyan, and when I’m surrounded by community. But outside of that, I also feel deeply connected to God when I’m practicing Kung Fu, when I’m teaching a student to move and breathe with intention. When the body, mind, and spirit are aligned in a single, purposeful act. During these times, I feel the Divine clearly, powerfully, in the breath, in the body, and in the beat of the world around me.
I didn’t always have the words for it. As a young martial artist, I simply knew something was happening beneath the surface, something deeper than technique or strength. I felt a current, a presence, a kind of electricity running through me. With time, and through learning with my rabbi, I discovered a name for it: “Ein Sof”, the Infinite. God’s light. God’s energy. The Life Force that sustains all things. It changed how I moved, how I teach, and how I live.
How I See God
So how do I see God in daily life?
I see God in the morning when I’m wrapping my tefillin.
I see God when I say Shema Israel, but I also see God in the way the afternoon sunlight hits the floor of my studio.
I see God in the breath of a nervous student who finally finds calm.
I see God in the stillness after training Kung Fu, when the body is at rest but the soul is wide awake.
This is why I teach. Not just to show people how to defend themselves, but to help them reconnect with what’s already inside them: their breath, their balance, their light, their soul. To remind them that they are vessels of sacred energy, a vessel that houses the Divine spark within.
Moving with purpose helps deepen that connection. It’s important that we connect with the Divine and awaken our inner sense of being.
God Is in Everything and Everywhere
In Jewish thought, we don’t believe God is confined to one place or one moment. God is everywhere and in everything, in every place, in every moment, and in every breath.
I believe that our role as Jews is to bring holiness into the world. We need to just stop for a moment and be fully present. Think about what we’re about to do, and if possible, say a blessing over it. Whether you’re about to eat something, go on a trip, or you’ve just woken up in the morning, stop, and make it holy. That simple act of awareness can transform an ordinary moment into something special.
When we pause and say a blessing over bread, over wine or over the washing of our hands, we’re not just performing ritual, we’re awakening the Divine energy already present in the moment. We’re recognizing that holiness isn’t something distant. It’s right here, if we’re paying attention.
The same applies to movement. When I step onto the training floor, it’s not just to work out. I take a minute and I make a blessing. As Jews, we have blessings for everything. I stop and I thank God for allowing me another day to train. I especially don’t take this for granted after undergoing quintuple bypass heart surgery.
(Here’s the link to that story if you’d like to take a peek: Tai Chi for Healing: My Journey to Recovery After Open-Heart Surgery)
After that blessing, I become more aware of the space around me and my movements. Focusing on the present and recognizing that Ha Kadosh Baruch Hu (The Holy One, Blessed be He) is always present.
The Body
Too often, people separate the spiritual from the physical, as if God belongs only to the mind or the soul. But the Torah tells us that God breathed life into us. Not ideas but breath.
In Hebrew, the word for soul is Neshamah, which comes from Nasham to breathe.
That breath lives in the body. So, when I stretch my limbs, when I feel my feet grounded to the earth and my spine rising tall like a tree, I’m not just doing Kung Fu, I’m recognizing that this body is a vessel for something holy. That movement itself can be a form of connection, a way to align with the Divine energy flowing through all things.
This is about awareness. You can call it energy, Divine presence, consciousness, or chi. What matters is that you feel it. That you tune into it. That you allow it to guide your movements and open your heart.
Sometimes, you just have to inhale deeply, exhale slowly, and remember you are alive and that the Divine spark is within you.
Flowing
In Kung Fu, there’s a moment when everything clicks. You’re not thinking. You’re not forcing. You’re just flowing. The breath steadies you. The world quiets down. And in that silence, you feel it, that presence, that light, that flow.
That’s a connection to something greater than oneself.
The Divine is not always loud. Sometimes, it’s as soft as the space between your breaths.
Wisdom
As a Sephardic Jew, I see the world through the stories of great Kabbalists, Rabbis, and the members in our community. Their teachings have been passed down through generations to guide us.
Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan once wrote that meditation “loosens the bond of the physical, allowing the practitioner to reach the transcendental, spiritual realm and attain Ruach HaKodesh (Holy Breath or Wind).” In many ways, this is exactly what happens when movement and breath become unified in practice. It’s not just exercise, it’s a doorway to something higher.
The Ramban (Nachmanides) taught that a person should “not separate his consciousness from the Divine while he journeys on the way, nor when he lies down nor when he rises up.” To me, this means our entire lives, from our most sacred rituals to our smallest routines can be filled with Divine energy.
The challenge is to stay aware. To remember.
That’s the essence of Kung Fu.
That’s the path of Torah.
Constant refinement. Constant connection.
Making the ordinary holy.
So the next time you ask where to find God, try this:
Close your eyes.
Take a slow breath in.
Feel your body as it is in this moment.
And listen, not for a voice, but for the stillness beneath all sound.
That’s where God lives.
Right there.
In the breath.
In the body.
In the beat of the world.
Alvin Raúl Cardona is a Sephardic Jewish storyteller, martial artist, and sommelier from Chicago. He holds a B.A. in Communication, Media, and Theatre and a Master’s in Journalism. A 9th-generation Eagle Claw Kung Fu master, he teaches Tai Chi, Kung Fu, and meditation in Northfield, Illinois, and is currently writing a self-healing book based on the principles of Tai Chi and meditation.
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