(מב) בַּסֻּכֹּ֥ת תֵּשְׁב֖וּ שִׁבְעַ֣ת יָמִ֑ים כָּל־הָֽאֶזְרָח֙ בְּיִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל יֵשְׁב֖וּ בַּסֻּכֹּֽת׃ (מג) לְמַעַן֮ יֵדְע֣וּ דֹרֹֽתֵיכֶם֒ כִּ֣י בַסֻּכּ֗וֹת הוֹשַׁ֙בְתִּי֙ אֶת־בְּנֵ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל בְּהוֹצִיאִ֥י אוֹתָ֖ם מֵאֶ֣רֶץ מִצְרָ֑יִם אֲנִ֖י יְהוָ֥ה אֱלֹהֵיכֶֽם׃
(42) You shall live in booths [sukkot] seven days; all citizens in Israel shall live in booths, (43) in order that future generations may know that I made the Israelite people live in booths when I brought them out of the land of Egypt, I the LORD your God.
Rabbi Akiva Weisinger
The Sukkah is a temporary structure which we relate to as permanent. We are תשבו כעין תדורו [tashvu k'ein taduru], we sit in the sukkah in the manner in which we dwell in our permanent we homes, and each Jew is commanded to עושה סוכתו קבע וביתו עראי [oseh sukato keva u'veito arai], to eat, sleep, and sit in the sukkah in a manner of קבע [keva], permanence, though the Sukkah itself is עראי [arai], temporary. (Sukkah 26b). There is no attempt to deny the fact that this is a temporary structure, no demand to actually move into the Sukkah, but to sit in it כעין תדורו [k'ein taduru], “like the way you dwell”. You are sitting in a temporary hut, fully cognizant of its temporary nature, but you are relating to it as if it is permanent... We are commanded to treat a temporary object with permanence."
Rabbi Alan Lew, z''l, from This is Real and You are Completely Unprepared
...We sit flush with the world, in a ‘house’ that calls attention to the fact that it gives us no shelter. It is not really a house. It is the interrupted idea of a house, a parody of a house… It is like that architectural feature called the broken pediment, the notch in the roofline of the facade of a house which leaves the mind to complete the line, and thus implants the idea of a line in the mind even more forcefully than an unbroken line would. So it is that the sukkah, with its broken lines, its open roof, its walls that don’t quite surround us, calls the idea of the house to mind more forcefully than a house itself might do.
And it exposes the idea of a house as an illusion. The idea of a house is that it gives us security, shelter, haven from the storm. But no house can really offer us this. No building of wood and stone can ever afford us protection from the disorder that is always lurking all around us. No shell we put between us an the world can ever really keep us secure from it. And we know this. We never really believed this illusion. That’s why we never felt truly secure in it [...]
In the sukkah, a house that is open to the world, a house that freely acknowledges that it cannot be the basis of our security, we let go of this need. The illusion of protection falls away, and suddenly we are flush with our life, feeling our life, following our life, doing its dance, one step after another.
The pilgrimage festival of huts [sukkot] you are to observe for yourself, for seven days, after the ingathering from your threshing floor and from your fat. You are to rejoice on your festival: you, your son and your daughter, your servant and your maid, the levite, the sojourner, the orphan and the widow that are within your midst.
Zohar Emor 103b
When people sit in a sukkah, the "shade of faithfulness" -- the shekhinah [the indwelling, feminine divine manifestation] -- spreads Her wings over them and... Abraham, five other righteous ones, and King David make their dwelling with them. And so, people should rejoice with shining countenance every day of the festival, together with these guests [ushpizin] who lodge with them... And we must gladden the poor, for the portion of the guests [one] invite[s] comes from the enjoyment felt by the poor when they eat.
Rabbi Alan Lew, z''l, from This is Real and You Are Completely Unprepared
"This is a commandment we fulfill not with a gesture or a word, but with our entire body. We sit in the sukkah with our entire body. Only our entire body is capable of knowing what it felt like to leave the burden of Egyptian oppression behind, to let go of it. Egypt in Hebrew is Mitzraim. The root of this word is tzar, a narrowness. Egypt was the narrow place. Only the entire body can know what it felt like to be pushed from a place of dire constriction and into a wilderness, a spacious, open world. Only the body can know what it felt like to be born. Only the body can know the fullness of joy, and this is a commandment that can only be fulfilled with joy. [...]
And when we speak of joy here, we are not speaking of fun. Joy is a deep release of the soul, and it includes death and pain. Joy is any feeling fully felt, any experience we give our whole being to. We are conditioned to choose pleasure and to reject pain, but the truth is, any moment of our life fully inhabited, any feeling fully felt, any immersion in the full depth of life, can be the source of deep joy.”
(ז) לֵ֣ךְ אֱכֹ֤ל בְּשִׂמְחָה֙ לַחְמֶ֔ךָ וּֽשֲׁתֵ֥ה בְלֶב־ט֖וֹב יֵינֶ֑ךָ כִּ֣י כְבָ֔ר רָצָ֥ה הָאֱלֹהִ֖ים אֶֽת־מַעֲשֶֽׂיךָ׃ (ח) בְּכָל־עֵ֕ת יִהְי֥וּ בְגָדֶ֖יךָ לְבָנִ֑ים וְשֶׁ֖מֶן עַל־רֹאשְׁךָ֥ אַל־יֶחְסָֽר׃ (ט) רְאֵ֨ה חַיִּ֜ים עִם־אִשָּׁ֣ה אֲשֶׁר־אָהַ֗בְתָּ כָּל־יְמֵי֙ חַיֵּ֣י הֶבְלֶ֔ךָ אֲשֶׁ֤ר נָֽתַן־לְךָ֙ תַּ֣חַת הַשֶּׁ֔מֶשׁ כֹּ֖ל יְמֵ֣י הֶבְלֶ֑ךָ כִּ֣י ה֤וּא חֶלְקְךָ֙ בַּֽחַיִּ֔ים וּבַעֲמָ֣לְךָ֔ אֲשֶׁר־אַתָּ֥ה עָמֵ֖ל תַּ֥חַת הַשָּֽׁמֶשׁ׃ (י) כֹּ֠ל אֲשֶׁ֨ר תִּמְצָ֧א יָֽדְךָ֛ לַעֲשׂ֥וֹת בְּכֹחֲךָ֖ עֲשֵׂ֑ה כִּי֩ אֵ֨ין מַעֲשֶׂ֤ה וְחֶשְׁבּוֹן֙ וְדַ֣עַת וְחָכְמָ֔ה בִּשְׁא֕וֹל אֲשֶׁ֥ר אַתָּ֖ה הֹלֵ֥ךְ שָֽׁמָּה׃ (ס)
(7) Go, eat your bread in gladness, and drink your wine in joy; for your action was long ago approved by God. (8) Let your clothes always be white, and your head never lack oil. (9) Enjoy happiness with a woman you love for all the fleeting days of life that have been granted to you under the sun—all your fleeting days. For that is your portion in life, from the labor you do under the sun. (10) Whatever it is in your power to do, do with all your might. For there is no action, no reasoning, no knowledge nor wisdom in Sheol, where you are going.
Rumi, "The Guest House" trans. Coleman Barks
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.
Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
"We're all just walking each other home."
- Ram Dass