Random Thoughts of the Week

It has been one of those weeks and my mind is swirling with tons of thoughts. Here are just a few:

1. I hope all of my friends get married before me.
Yup, seriously. Ok, maybe not all, but a good portion. Don’t be shocked yet, let me explain. Every time we hear of another engagement, certain friends confide in me that they are hit with a pang of jealousy. This is perfectly normal, as when someone else gets something you want, it’s quite easy to feel a taste of bitterness that they have it and you do not. However, I do not wish to be the cause of anyone feeling bitter. When my friends dance at my wedding I”YH, I do not want them to be constantly thinking about how they wish it was them. If they all get married first, then by the time it comes to my wedding, they will all just feel so happy for me that I finally got married. Although of course there have been times that I have felt jealous when friends got engaged and married, in general I am lucky enough not to be prone towards jealousy, and can handle it better than others.

2. Sometimes I think I have pure motives, but when I dig deeper I discover the truth.
There is a story behind this thought. I was making food for shabbos to bring to a friend’s house and as I was making it I was hoping that it would come out good, so I whispered to Hashem, “Hashem, please let this food come out yummy and delicious L’chvod Shabbos Kodesh. If it comes out good then it will bring such kavod and oneg to shabbos, please let it come out good!” After it was all done and I was thinking about it, I realized that the real reason I wanted it to come out good was so that my friends would praise my amazing cooking/baking skills and declare that it was the best thing they ever tasted. Motives are not always black and white, and I won’t go so far to say that my request to Hashem had nothing to do with Kavod Shabbos, I did really want that as well, but when I thought about it I had to be honest about the main, real reason behind what I was asking.

3. There was a very large and scary bug in my room this week. I am usually not terrible with bugs, (actually that’s not entirely true- if other people are around I shriek and make them take care of it, but when I’m all by myself I somehow magically find the courage in me to take care of it) but this was a particularly frightening one. It ran away and I sat there paralyzed with fear that it would return. I could not focus on anything and could not take my mind off of it. That’s when it hit me that this is what having a constant awareness of Hashem means. It is something I’m working on, and as I realized that no matter how hard I tried I could not take my mind away from the fact that there was a bug that might come out, I realized that is what I should strive for spiritually- a constant recognition of the reality that Hashem is watching me. In a scary way, but in a good way too. Hashem sees all of the things I do wrong, but He is also always watching over me and taking care of me.

4. Why is it so comforting to hear about girls who are older than me who get engaged, yet I feel like my heart is being crushed when I hear about girls who are younger than me getting engaged?
This thought/question does not take much explaining. I don’t know why that is, but it is, and it really bothers me. I should just be happy when I hear about anyone getting engaged, but instead, when I hear about girls older than me getting engaged I think, “Wow! There is hope! There is hope for me,” and when the girl is younger it just reminds me that I did not want to be this age and still be single. Not that this is such an awful and bad thing. Baruch Hashem I love my life, but it is just not what I wanted. Let me clarify that this does not contradict my first point. It is not jealousy, which I would describe as the "I want what you have" feeling, it is just a negative, "This is another reminder that I am lacking something."

Those were just some of my thoughts from this week; feel free to share some of yours.

How did I get here?

Today I had a moment that made me stop and pause and think, “How in the world did I get here?” I kept going over in my head the steps that brought me there, but somehow that did not minimize my disbelief. I seem to be having a lot of those in the time since I graduated college. I guess it is because up until that point my life was basically worked out for me. I knew since I was little that I would go to high school, then college. After that was always the mystery. The irony is that if you had told me three months ago that I would be where I was now, I would not have believed you at all, but if you had told me 10 years ago, I would have believed it in a heartbeat. It just goes to show you how things come around full circle.

The funny thing I noticed about monumental moments is how insignificant they often feel at the time. In some cases it takes looking back to realize that your life changed that day, even if it was not a huge change, but while you were standing there it was just another moment of just another day. It didn’t feel huge, it was just the next step, and you were just following along with life. Like the day I made the final decision of which seminary to attend. I had debated between a few schools for a little while, but at that second, when I sent in the appropriate forms, it was just a continuation of the process. It just was.

In other cases it is the moment you’ve been waiting for and building up in your head and then you get there and you wonder why you thought it would be such a big deal. Like graduation, for example. Graduation is the day you dream about when you’re studying for midterms and can’t wait for it all to end, or when it’s 2:00 in the morning and you just finished the second page of a fifteen page paper. But then when I got there, it was so boring. Maybe there were one or two good speeches, but overall YU’s graduation was long and dragged out. When I walked up to get my diploma, I was just walking, the same way I walk to class, the same way I walk anywhere. Taking my diploma was just as easy as the act of taking the salt shaker that my mother passed to me at the dinner table. It just was the way it was and didn’t feel huge.

I don’t know what I expected, really. It is almost like I was waiting for an orchestra to burst out in beautiful chords, or for a loud audience to applaud and cheer. Perhaps it is because at other moments, which are small and minor, I have felt as though I were soaring in the sky or rushing through the ocean. Inspiration sometimes hits you when you expect it the least. Perhaps part of the burst is the surprise factor. When you build something up in your mind, then real life has to be pretty impressive to even compare. But when all you anticipate is for life to be ordinary, anything above or below average is moving.

For Papa, for Mama

There is a line in the Fiddler on the Roof song “Matchmaker,” (a song which, as a side point, I do not particular like for a number of reasons) where the daughters dream about the young man they hope to end up with, that goes:

“For Papa, make him a scholar, for Mama, make him rich as a king…”

I couldn’t help but think about this line as I was on one particular date, and while I was listening to the guy talk all I could think about was how much my parents would like him because he had certain characteristics, and how certain of my siblings would like him for various other characteristics. There was a particular activity that he enjoyed that my father enjoys as well, and I could picture my father’s face lighting up were I to tell him I was dating a guy who liked such things. For some reason, however, I just didn’t like the guy myself. Just to set the record straight, I really tried to like him.

This got me thinking about how fortunate I am to be very close with my parents and to see eye to eye with them in most areas. Their opinion is very valuable to me, and I can’t imagine ever marrying someone who they did not approve of. They are very supportive of me and they trust my judgment, so if there was someone who I liked that much, I think they would probably like that person too. Even though some use marriage as another way of rebelling against their parents, I am quite the opposite and every time I date a guy I think about how he would fit into my family. Finding the right person is not just about finding someone who I want to spend the rest of my life with and who wants to spend the rest of his life with me, but someone who my family wants to spend the rest of their lives with too.

Interestingly, the situation has never happened in reverse. I don’t think I’ve ever dated a guy who I liked, but who I thought my parents would disapprove of. Probably this is because my parents are not pressuring and have never, ever told me something that they want or expect of the guy I marry, so long as I am happy. When I say I thought my parents would like the guy I mentioned before (even though I did not) I mean that I know them well enough to know that even though they insist they will be happy with any guy I choose (and who chooses me), there are still certain personalities and certain types of guys that I know they would get along with better than others.

So when I met a guy who I thought they would like, I was determined to give it a chance. But I realized that when it comes down to it, there is a certain point where you shouldn't be trying quite that hard. I’m the one marrying the guy, and not them, so even though they get stuck with whoever I choose, my opinion matters the most. Even though he might have been good “for papa” and “for mama,” the rest of the song continues with the words “for me,” and that is equally important to consider. But the point is that it is equal, it is not just about me. Now I just have to find someone who fits both the “for papa, for mama” and the “for me.”

Meeting Naturally

He looks at me, and I look right back at him. At the moment that our eyes meet, we both glance away blushing slightly, pretending we weren’t looking at all. Perhaps he thinks I’m cute, and perhaps I am thinking the same thing about him. This scene has taken place in various forms in any number of places, be it in the supermarket, on the train, during Kiddush at shul, or on the street. The question that pops into my head is always, “Now what?”

I have friends and know people who “met naturally” i.e. without a shadchan or person setting them up. I’m just not sure how they managed to do that. I mean, take the scenario above. Great, I noticed a frum Jewish guy around my age. Assuming he is not dating/engaged/married/otherwise taken, and assuming that there is a chance we are compatible hashkafically and in terms of personality (which of course you can never really know before you find out more about the person), then how do we get from the point of “we-are-both-looking-at-each-other-curiously” to the point of talking and then possibly to dating? Note that each of those steps is a giant impossible leap. Let’s start with the first step. There is no way that I would walk up to a random guy and approach him. Social rules say that is not accepted, and even if it was I am way too shy. Unless I could make up some sort of excuse. So that leaves the only possibility of us talking up to the possibility that he will approach me. Which he will probably never do for one of the following reasons:

1. Fear of rejection. I understand that, I would be too chicken myself. Any guy who approaches a girl he doesn’t know has got to have some guts.
2. Fear that I will think he is creepy for approaching me. Depending on what he says and how he says it, this fear might be valid and I might very well end up thinking, “Why did this random guy just randomly start talking to me?” I, however, consider myself a relatively friendly person, and if a guy came up to me and said something normal, (and not creepy, for instance, “You have nice eyes.”) then I’d like to think I would give him a chance.
3. What in the world is he supposed to say??

In theory I could think of ways he could say to me, but in my mind they never seem to play out. For example, if we are in the supermarket, he could say something like, “Do you know how much this box of cookies costs?” Firstly, this seems somewhat lame, and I would never say such a thing to a guy, and if he said that to me, then I would simply answer him with the price if I know it or that I don’t know if I don’t, and then there the conversation dies and we continue along our merry ways. To sum up, it seems that even if either one of us could conquer the fear of being rejected as a weirdo or a creep for approaching someone we don’t know for no apparent reason, then the problem is that we would simply have nothing to say to start off the conversation. Perhaps it is simply that my conversation starters need some work, but I can’t imagine how a guy is supposed to approach me.

If by some miracle we were able to start chatting, and this chat was going nicely and over the course of a brief five minutes there was a mutual positive feeling towards one another, then where in the world would it go from there? He can’t ask for my number or ask me out on the spot- that would just not be OK after 5 minutes of talking. So then we depart, never to see or hear from each other again, and there you have it, the impossibility of a date happening naturally.

I just don’t understand how people meet each other “naturally.” It seems to me that the only way to meet each other is if your friends know a guy (or if you are a guy, then your friends know a girl) and introduce you. But then how did they meet that guy?

Questions for the readers: Have you ever met someone “naturally” and if so how did that go? Have you ever/would you ever walk up to someone of the opposite gender to try and start conversation? What in the world would you say?? If someone approached you, would you be creeped out? What are your thoughts on “meeting naturally”?

The Tale of the Good First Date

We are sitting comfortably on the couch with our feet up, our shoes neatly laid out on the floor. The hour is late, an ideal time for deep, meaningful conversations. As our talking begins to slow down she finally concludes with, “It was a disaster of a date!” I nod in agreement sympathetically, reviewing each detail that she shared with me in my mind.

Although it has never happened quite like that, this story has happened many times over. Friends will frequently tell me horror first date stories that range from ones that went completely wrong to stories of dates that weren’t terrible, but contain a good story of something awful or awkward that was said or done by their date.

Bad4 has a nice collection of bad dating stories over here and she links to one of the craziest stories I’ve ever seen over here -I think that story is pretty unbelievable.

While I enjoy listening to these stories, I tend to feel left out when these stories are being discussed, since I don’t have any really great bad first date stories. That is not to say that I’ve never been on a bad date, just none that were extremely awful that have any remarkable stories (Bli Ayin Harah!). My bad dates seem to consist of either too many awkward silences or just a general feeling of “Ok clearly we are not meant to be together and this is not going to work” based on our conversation. The only stories I have involve the time I was on a date when it was windy and the guy’s Kippah flew off and he ran and chased after it, and certain times when guys said things that I thought should definitely not be said on a first date, let alone any date, or actually ever.

I do, however, have a number of “good first date” stories. The problem with these stories is that good first date stories are only really good when the end of the story is that you married the person. In that case you can say, “He did such-and-such on our first date, and from that moment on everything went right!” Or something like that anyway. No one wants to hear good first date stories that don’t end with marriage because they are just not as fun as bad date stories. Bad stories with bad endings are more fun than good stories with bad endings, because bad stories you can just say “wow that was awful!” but good stories with bad endings just produce the following reaction: “Oh.”

I have decided to share these stories anyway, because I think it is important to stay positive. Instead of channeling frustration by making a list for guys of “don’t do this on a first date,” it’s good for guys to have a list of things that girls appreciate and like on a first date.

And with that nice introduction, here is my list of “good first date” stories, or things that guys did early on that I thought were really nice. One or two of these stories are from friends, but they are all written in first person to keep things more simple.

1. When we were on the phone discussing locations of where to go on our date, one guy gave me a choice of three options of where we could go. I thought this was better than the general "what do you want to do," since I feel uncomfortable choosing a location when he is the one paying, and it is better than just picking a place without taking my preferences into consideration at all. (Side note: I am pretty flexible and don’t care about location at all- so far no guy has ever suggested something that I wasn’t up for at all, but it is still nice to be asked.)

2. In between my phone call with the guy and our first date was shabbos. On Friday he texted me something to the extent of: “Have a Good Shabbos! Looking forward to meeting you.” I thought that was sweet.

3. After mentioning casually that I was traveling somewhere (not far) after a night-time date, my date expressed concern for my well being, since he was not sure if traveling so late to this place was safe (it was!) and he asked me to text him when I got back OK. Even though I was perfectly safe, I couldn’t help but smile when he said that. When I was almost at my destination, he texted me "Did you get home OK?"

4. This is a good second date story, but I’m including it anyway. For a second date, one guy suggested we go somewhere and the suggestion was based on an unusual activity I had mentioned on our first date that I enjoy. I was very impressed because it showed that he was listening to everything I said.

5. One guy complimented me on something I was wearing. After a moment of being alarmed and thinking, “Wait, why is he noticing what I’m wearing? Since when do guys notice these things? Why is he complimenting me- no guy has ever done that is that normal?” I realized he was just being nice and I should just accept the compliment. I smiled and said, “Thank you.”

6. I once went on a date when I was in a location not near my home that I was unfamiliar with. The guy and I agreed that it made most sense to meet up in the place we were going to go on our date. Having the awful sense of direction that I do, I of course managed to get lost. So there I was in some random place, which I knew wasn’t too far from where I was supposed to be, but I had no clue how to get there. Slightly embarrassed, I explained the situation to the guy, who was super nice about the whole situation, told me to stay put and he walked all the way to where I was to come get me.

After reading these you might be tempted to ask, “Why didn’t it work out with any of these guys? They seem great!” This brings me to a point that I have been longing to make for a while now, especially in the role I mentioned above which I find myself in very often, the role of the listening friend. The point is: Just because a guy is a great guy, does not necessarily mean I want to marry him. Hopefully, most people in the world are good people. In fact as an optimist, I tend assume most people are nice unless they prove me wrong. (Don’t worry pessimists, I unfortunately find myself sometimes slipping towards the deep end.) Sometimes people act as though a person being “good” is enough reason to marry them, and in my humble opinion, that is not the case. They need to be “good for you” as well.

Just because a story doesn’t have a happy ending, doesn’t mean we can’t learn from it, grow from it, or even appreciate the good aspects of what it is. I can’t help but end by saying that one day, all of us singles, will find the story that doesn’t only have a happy beginning, but has a happy ending, too.

Changing Leaves

I was walking outside and started smiling as I noticed that the leaves are changing colors. I love autumn, perhaps because it is because the season with my birthday (and a number of other bloggers as well!), and perhaps because I enjoy the weather when it is cool, but not yet too cold, but also because fall is a time of change. I always love to watch the trees and the leaves starting at the end of the summer, as they turn beautiful different colors, from green to yellow to red to brown. Some of my best times for reflection when I was younger were those rainy days after school had just started, when I would sit staring out of my window, watching the rain drops hit the puddles in the street, and watching the rushing water full of colorful leaves. The leaves turning colors is just one sign for me that the end of summer and beginning of fall is associated with change. The end of camp, the beginning of a new school year, transition from one part of life to the next.

Recently I was talking about some event that will be happening in June, which seems so far away right now, and the first thought that entered my mind was, “Wow, I sincerely hope that my life is significantly different in that point in time in every way.” This gut reaction shocked me and I wondered, “Am I that unhappy with my life that I want to change it so badly?” I mean, I know things aren’t perfect- you can always find something to complain about if you try, but until that moment I hadn’t realized how much I wanted things to change. But does that necessarily mean that I am not happy with how things are right now? Life changes all the time whether we like it or not, so wouldn’t it be best to welcome the change gladly instead of fighting it?

Sometimes it is difficult to find the right balance of being happy with the with the status quo, the way things are now, and yet at the same time longing for something even better, wanting things to be different. If everything was just great all the time, there would be no force moving us forward. The dream that things could be better is often was pushes us to spring to action and accomplish. The key is feeling both satisfied and unsatisfied at the same time; happy enough not to wallow in misery all day long, yet feeling as though something is lacking and striving to change the situation.

They say Shlomo HaMelech had a ring that said “Gam Zeh Yaavor.” This too will pass. That message is important to remember both when things are good and when they are not as good. When things are not so great, it is good to know that this time will pass and that things will get better. When things are going well, it is helpful to keep in mind that things will change eventually so we should take advantage and enjoy every minute of the good times we are in. To me, autumn is the essence of Gam Zeh Yaavor, of transition from one part of life to the next.

Seesaw

I glance down at my watch and begin to head out the door. Within seconds I feel the cool breeze and smell the fresh air, as I join the many commuters headed back to where they came from, via various means of transportation. For some reason it’s when I’m headed back home at the end of the day that sometimes this sad feeling sinks in of “I kind of wish I had someone special to be heading back home to.” Not that I don’t like where I’m living right now, but it’s not the same as being married and going home to your spouse. Or so I imagine, though perhaps I’m just dreaming.

The truth is that every day is different. Some days I find myself thinking, “Ok, if I didn’t get married for another couple of years, then that is perfectly fine, what is my rush?” while other days just the thought of being single for another few months is painful enough.

I’m not sure which one is harder or hurts more: Hoping every day that this will be day that I find the right person and being disappointed day after day, or giving up and saying that maybe I should just not expect to ever get married because it’s hard to keep holding on. I can’t hold on anymore, but I can’t let go. Neither one works for me, but I have to do one or the other.

So I do both and neither, seesawing back and forth. I despair and announce that I’ve had enough, I can’t take it anymore, and try to move on with my life, focus on the great things that I do have in my life, and go on pretending that life will be perfectly fine if I never get married. Why bother dreaming that I’ll get married soon, when it might take years and years? Other times, however, I encourage myself, strengthen my attitude, and remain persistent with my optimism, declaring each day that at any second I could meet the right person, or at least receive a phone call that leads to meeting the right person. This is something that I want and I cannot simply let go of that desire.

At the end of the day, like with everything in life, what works best is to find a balance. On the one hand it is crucial to hold strong and have faith, to know that one day it will happen and that is all that matters. Don’t give up hoping, dreaming, and searching. Yet at the same time it is important to accept life for what it is, to learn to deal with the fact that I don’t know when I will find the right person, and it might be a while, but that is OK because Hashem made my life exactly the way it is for a specific reason. Like most things, however, it is much easier said than done.

Which type are you? Thoughts on Waiting

Which type of person are you? Let’s say you have two pieces of food on your plate, one you like more than the other. For example, you have a salad and a piece of kugel, and you like the kugel better. Which one do you eat first? One school of thought is “save the best for last,” while the other approach is, “quick, eat the good stuff because who knows what will be later.” Do you eat the kugel first because it is your favorite and you’re so excited to eat it, or do you eat the salad first so that the taste that lingers in your mouth is the kugel, your favorite?

I have always taken the first approach to save the best for last, even if it’s not always the smarter move, it is just how I am. This is true when it comes to the food on my plate, as well as the other areas of my life. I made sure to take all the requirements for college as soon as I could to get them over with, to save the fun and interesting classes that I really wanted to take for later. This is because I like to have something to look forward to. Somehow it feels like I can make it through anything if I know there is something good waiting for me at the end. You know, the light at the end of the tunnel attitude. Part of this thinking, however, involves the good ending point being at a fixed point in time. I know exactly when my birthday is, so it is easy to look forward to it, but if someone tells you, “I’m going to give you gift,” but doesn’t say when, then the longer that time goes by, the more you start to think, “So, um, when exactly are they going to give me this gift? Are they really going to?”

This is part of what makes dating so difficult or frustrating at times. In some ways I would be much better off if someone walked up to me today and said, “Stop being anxious! You are going to meet the right person in 5 years from today, so stop worrying” than I would be if I were to find the right person in only 2 years, without knowing that information in advance. Instead I’m stuck with that secret hoping of, “Maybe it will happen today…or maybe not for years.”

I was thinking about this recently and I realized I have it all wrong. Instead of being so focused on when I’m finally going to get married and I won’t have to wait anymore, I should be focusing on the fact that there is a lot of good in the fact that I have to wait- it gives me something to look forward to. You see, once I get the good thing I’ve been waiting for, I’m inevitably left with this drop of sadness of “Oh, now it’s over. What will I look forward to next?” I remember when I read the final book of the Harry Potter series. I had been waiting to read the seventh book probably ever since I finished the third and had to wait for the fourth, finish it, then wait forever for the fifth, then wait forever for the sixth and then wait for the seventh. As much as I enjoyed reading the book, and I enjoyed it a great deal, when I reached that last sentence on that last page, I was so sad that there was no next book to look forward to.

Marriage, of course, is a different story because it is not something you reach and then move past the way you finish a book or the way you eat a piece of kugel and then it’s over. But there is the point of waiting to meet the person, and then you’ve met them and the mystery of, “Who will I spend the rest of my life with?” is over. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I’d rather stay on this side of the mystery, I can’t wait to be on the other side, spending my life with the person. What I am saying is that this side of the mystery has some good aspects, firstly that there is something to look forward to, something to hope for, something to dream about, and while I’m not there yet I might as well enjoy that aspect.

Another good aspect is something I touched upon in this post about appreciating the process. It’s a reflection that I had when I was looking back at the past year around Rosh Hashanah time, and that is the fact that I realized that last year at this time I was not quite as ready to get married as I thought I was, and that last year at this time my desire to get married was not nearly as strong as it is now. As each day goes by I feel more and more ready to get married and I want to get married more and more and more. I truly believe that there is a point where you cannot possibly want to get married anymore, no matter how many more years pass, no matter how many more days pass, no matter how many more Tefillot you daven, no matter how many more dates you go on. And as many times as I’ve thought I’ve reached that point, I am no where near that point at all. There is benefit, I think, from Hashem’s perspective, to forcing me to wait until my desire is stronger, because the greater my desire to get married, the greater my happiness will be when I finally meet the right person.

It’s like a child in a candy store. If the child asks her mother for a candy and the mother says, “Yes,” then the child takes the candy and eats it and is perfectly content and satisfied. But if the child asks and is refused and then asks again and is again refused, then ten minutes later when the child screams on the top of her lungs, “PLEASE, MOMMY, PLEASE????!!!” and the mother gives in and says, “Yes, my darling, Ok, I will give you a candy,” the child’s response is to jump up and down excitedly shouting “YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” And while being content is nice, a big huge “yay” is a whole lot better. Every day that I wait I want to get married even more, and I know the “yay” gets bigger and bigger, too. Yet at the same time, I certainly hope to get married soon and that my “yay” doesn’t end up getting stretched to be as big as it could be.

I don’t want to wait forever to get married, and I certainly hope each day that it will happen soon, but in the meantime I appreciate that I have something to look forward to, because that is always fun, even if I don’t know the exact end point in time. And even though at times I get impatient or frustrated, I can feel the “yay” feeling growing until the time when I don’t have to wait anymore.

Younger Siblings and Shidduchim

Well, it finally happened, and I was completely unprepared for it. My younger sister informed me that her first friend/acquaintance her age just got engaged. She just got back from seminary, a few months ago. This actually happened a little while ago, and I have been gathering my thoughts on the subject. Reading Bad4’s post ("Why I Need to Get Married Fast") on this topic, along with my sister telling me of another engagement, reminded me of the main thought running through my head when I originally heard my sister’s news: Now I officially feel old. I usually don't claim to be approaching the "old maid" category, since I know that I am nowhere near there yet (depending on who you ask :) ). I even have a birthday coming up soon and I am excited for it, not dreading it- if anything it reminds me just how young I am in the scheme of things. This piece of news, however, made me feel old. It took me by surprise and for the first time my thoughts jumped to a question I never considered, “What if my younger sister gets married before I do?”

Lately I seem to be hearing more and more about younger siblings who get married before their older siblings. I even heard about a support group for singles whose younger siblings are getting married. If the younger sibling is only one or two years younger than you, then I don’t think it’s quite as big a deal, but if your younger sibling is three or more years younger than you, then I would imagine that it would be really difficult. Whenever I hear of someone getting engaged and I know they have an older sibling who is not yet married, right after I think “Mazel Tov” I cringe and think, “Oy, I feel bad for them.” And I know, no singles want pity, the worst thing in the world is to be looked at as a nebach, as in “I’m so sorry, I feel so bad for you.” But I can’t help feeling that way, I can’t help feeling that they must be in some kind of pain. I put myself in their shoes and all I can feel is “Ouch. That has got to hurt.”

I never really thought about the possibility of my sister getting married before I did because she is so much younger and I always assumed I’d be married long before she even started dating. In fact, I still hope that to be the case, since unlike Bad4’s sister, I don’t believe my sister intends to start dating for another year or two. So I have a little while before I need to really worry about this, and I hope that I won’t have to. But in all honestly, if I’m not married in two years and my sister wants to start dating, it will probably be very hard for me. I will of course tell her to start dating, and I would never want to hold her back, but I can’t picture attending her wedding while I am still single, with everyone glancing nervously over at me, wondering how I’m holding up. The very thought of that possibility is painful. I definitely don’t understand how those who have more than one younger sibling married before them handle it.

When I step back and try to think about this from an objective standpoint, it really makes no sense that it should be so difficult. I’ve heard about tons of engagements of those younger than I am. Hashem has a time for everything and some people have to wait longer to find their shidduch than others. Why should I feel anything but happiness if my younger sibling doesn’t have to wait as long as I do? It doesn’t bother me that my sister’s friend is engaged and getting married before me. I knew that it was likely that one of her friends could get married before I did when she came home from seminary a few months ago and I was still single. But somehow the idea of my sister and not some random other person hits closer to home, it is more personal. This is someone who I’ve known since the second she was born, and have always just assumed that I would get married first. The difficulty is not only in the sudden need to reject my previous expectations, but to watch someone so close to me reach a stage of life that I long to reach myself, yet always found unobtainable.

Questions for the readers: Do any of you have younger siblings who got married before you? If so, how did you deal with this? If you have a younger sibling who is not married- would you be OK with them getting married first or would it be painful? Thoughts?

Letter to my Bad Day

I wrote this a little while ago, and I think for the most part it worked.

To my Bad Day:

You might be strong, but I am stronger. You might try to push me down, but I will get back up again. You might send people my way who hurt me, who insult me, who speak to me in ways that I would never even imagine speaking to anyone. You can challenge me time and time again, hitting me when I least expect it, at the worst time. But like a tennis player, holding the racket waiting to hit the ball, like a baseball player holding the bat, ready to swing, I am ready to tackle whatever you throw my way. I know that Hashem is right there with me helping me, and my Yetzer HaTov is cheering in the bleechers, shouting, “Yay! You can do it!” as I respond calmly instead of angrily, dignified instead of frustrated.

You can fight me, but I’ll fight back. You might try to break me like glass shattering into thousands of pieces, or tear me apart like a secret document going through a paper shredder, but I will bend like chewing gum as far as it takes, and I will super glue myself together should you begin to cut through me. I will throw up my parachute, should you try to push me off your plane, and I will swim to the lifeboat if you throw me off your ship. I will not let the strong waters of your storm drown me, and I will not let your nasty winds toss me away like a tumbling feather. I will climb every mountain that you put in front of me, even if it takes every ounce of strength from my body.

And if you do begin to reach me, and slowly take me down before I’ve even realized you’ve come, if I find myself caught in the web of your trap or fallen in the deep hole of your barren desert, I will call out for help, and G-d will lift me up. He will throw me a rope to escape your pit, and carefully cut through the ropes of your trap. He will release me and rescue me, for even when I have failed to utlize the strength that He gave me, G-d still has mercy and will gently encourage me. He will send me the magical people who appear at just the right moment, with just the tools that I need. G-d will send helicopters to all corners of the earth, expert mountain-climbers to guide me, and friends to keep me company, even if they are just as helpless. He will send the sun to warm me and show me the way, and clear a path for me to walk on.

So, Bad Day, don’t think that you will win, because you won’t. Any battle that you think you’ve won, is only temporary, because I will win the war. Even if you put all odds against me, I will beat them and I will make it through. You can go home now, shame-faced and unaccomplished. For it will not be me that you inflict today.

Just remember this the next time you come to face me.
I hope never to see you again.
SternGrad

What does it mean to forgive?

I guess the topic of forgiveness is on everyone's minds as Yom Kippur approaches. I was in the middle of this post when I saw Bored Jewish Guy's post about forgiveness and dating.

What does it mean to forgive someone? This is a question I’ve tried to figure out the answer to for a while. I know what it means when Hashem forgives- it means that he wipes away our sins as though they never happened, or if we don’t deserve that, the lower level is that he doesn’t punish us. But what does it mean for us, human beings, to forgive one another? Does it mean we forget the past and pretend like it never happened? Every year before Yom Kippur we go through the typical route of asking everyone we’re close with, “Are you mochel me?” or “Do you forgive me if I did anything wrong to you this past year?” And people ask us this question. We each respond with a hearty, “Of course!” and exclaim that we can’t think of anything anyway that the person did wrong. Has anyone ever asked you for forgiveness for a specific incident? No one has ever approached me right before Yom Kippur. Right after a particular situation they have, but right before Yom Kippur not really. Let me explain why I have been thinking so much about this question.

A number of years ago, a friend of mine did something that I found to be very hurtful. The problem is that she actually thought she was doing something that was really nice. So I couldn’t tell her that it upset me, because it would have made her very upset to hear that what they thought was a nice deed was not only not appreciated, but in fact caused me to be sad. Yet, to this day, when I think about that event, I am hurt by it. This person has no clue that she did something wrong, so she cannot ask for forgiveness. I would never tell her that she did something wrong, since that would cause her much anguish, and that would be an aveira on my part. I know I need to forgive her. But what does forgiveness mean?

To this day, I am still very good friends with this girl. My behavior towards her is as friendly as always, the same way I relate to all my friends. Aside from this small incident, I hold no negative feelings towards her, and immediately after the incident I was never even cold to her, as I wanted to mask how I was feeling. My question is: Does that mean I have forgiven her? I held on to my negative feelings for a while after the event, but after a while I let them go. But I still feel hurt when thinking about what happened. She also never expressed remorse over the incident, because she never knew that she did anything wrong.

It's been a number of years since then, and I think at this point I can truly say I have forgiven her. But let's go back to a few months after the occurrence. I was still mad at her about it, yet I was also still friends with her and was doing my best to put it behind me and move on. At that moment in time, would you say that I have forgiven her?

Food for thought: Does forgiving mean forgetting? Can you hold on to negative feelings while simultaneously having a positive relationship with that person? Does forgiveness mean letting go completely or is it OK as long as your actions and behavior does not show your true feelings?

I wish you all a Gmar Chatima Tova, may we all be inscribed in the book of life. May we be zoche to be forgiven by Hashem and the people who we have sinned against, and may we have the inner strength to forgive all of those who wronged us.

Does it really count?

This year I had a very thought-provoking Rosh Hashana. I heard lots of great ideas over this three day yuntif and had some interesting conversations. Among the many different things that I was thinking about, I was thinking a lot about Hashem and davening. Aside from Shidduchim, I think that’s the topic that I’ve written about the most. So many times this year I would be davening and the following thought has gone through my head: I’ve asked Hashem for this so many times, is this Tefillah right now really going to make a difference? I mean, how many times have we all asked Hashem for peace for all of Klal Yisrael? How many times have we said Refaeinu and asked for Refuah Shelaimah for all of the Cholim? How many times have I davened to find my bashert and that my friends should too and that all the singles who want to find a spouse should get married? Is this Tefillah really going to make a difference?

Rosh Hashana is different. Somehow I feel like the Tefillot of Rosh Hashana are more powerful, since they are said when Hashem is judging us, and they are for the entire year. But on a regular typical day, it’s just another regular, typical Tefillah, right? Why should the 101st time that I’m asking Hashem for something get an answer and not the 100th? Sometimes it’s the advice that you give to others that you need to absorb yourself the most. This message is one I’ve told myself over and over in so many other areas, and for some reason this Rosh Hashana it just hit me.

One of my favorite stories of all time is the one about Rabbi Akiva and the water dripping into the stone. Rabbi Akiva was encouraged by his wife to go learn Torah, even though he was already forty years old and didn’t know anything about Torah. He started to learn Torah, but was so overwhelmed. There was too much information, so much that he had to learn, and it seemed like he was getting nowhere. He became discouraged and left Yeshiva. He was walking and saw a stone with water dripping into it drop by drop by drop by drop, very slowly. The drops of water created a hole in the stone. He realized that even though every little bit that he learned felt like a drop in the bucket, each drop is important, and all together they created this hole in the rock.

Sometimes it seems like you’re trying and trying and yet going no where. Each step you take is so small in compared to the distance you have to go, and so each step seems pointless. The key message is that even though each step seems pointless, it’s not. Every drop counts, every step counts, even though it seems so small. A flower starts with just a seed, but it grows to be so much bigger. A blizzard consists of so many snowflakes, but every snowflake counts. We are so stubborn to see it. No, it doesn’t, we argue. It doesn’t count! If there was one less snowflake, it would still be a blizzard. But where is the point where it changes from a flurry to a strong steady snow? Each one counts, even though we can’t see it.

The same is true with Tefillah. Each one counts. Why does Hashem choose to wait for the 101st prayer instead of answering the 100th? I don’t know. But each one counts. Each one makes an impact. The impact is so small that we make the mistake of believing that it is insignificant. Yes, it is small, but it is there. Don’t underestimate it. Maybe we don’t see the difference. We don’t see it, but it is there, so have faith and keep on davening. Does it really count? Yes, it does.

Two Directions

Every year Rosh Hashana seems to sneak up on me, despite the fact that Rosh Chodesh Elul gives plenty of advance notice to give me the nudge that this holy time is coming up. So with Rosh Hashana just around the corner, and selichot starting on Motzei Shabbos, I finally feel the urgency of introspection. The idea that comes to mind at the moment is the phrase many of our parents told us when we were children when we began to adventure passed the safe walls of our home and out into the world, and that is, “Look both ways before you cross the street.”

Rosh Hashana involves looking in two directions: The past and the future. I always start by looking at the past year. Where was I last Rosh Hashana? I don’t mean physically, though that is always a good starting point to recall my thoughts, I mean what was my mental, emotional and most importantly spiritual state last year at this time? What goals did I set for myself? How have I lived up to those goals? What are my accomplishments? In what ways did I fail and in what ways did I succeed? The main question that I always ask is “Where did I hope to be this year and how close am I to being in that place?” I attempt to identify the main obstacles to my spiritual growth and the biggest downfalls in my Avodas Hashem in the past year. But that’s only one direction.

I also look to next year and ask: Where do I hope to be next year at this time? I am filled with hopes of where this next year will take me. Not only am I faced with the unknown of what life will throw my way, but what I can do to create this next year what I want it to be. The end result may be up to Hashem, beyond my control, but what can I do to try my best to make this year everything that I want it to be?

When I think about where I was Rosh Hashana last year, aside from remembering how I hoped to be married this year, I see all the things that happened that I was so unprepared for. I see the things that I handled well, and the ones that I did not deal with quite as nicely, but that I learned from. I’m in a place that I never thought I’d be in, mostly in a good way. Usually on Rosh Hashana I end up with the same list of the same things that I’m always trying to work on. I picked a few things to focus on last year, and ironically, I ended up making greater strides in the areas that I chose not to focus on because I thought that they would be too hard and so I should focus on other things. Sometimes I surprise myself.

This year has been a good one spiritually for me. After leaving the “bubble” of Stern College, I found that there are two ways to react to a new environment. One is the unfortunate path that I found some of my friends have been swept into, to follow your environment and go with the flow. For myself I found that my reaction to being pushed out of my comfort zone was to push back and take on more things to fight the push away from G-d. When I was in Stern, surrounded by Torah, it was so easy to have Judaism on my mind, but ironically, I have found that since I’ve left, the fact that it has been harder for me to focus on the spiritual has in fact made me struggle more and in the end I have been more successful. This past year has actually been a pretty decent one spiritually, Baruch Hashem.

When I look towards next Rosh Hashana, it seems so far away, but I see two different images. I see the ideal, perfect place that I long to reach with all my soul, the place that makes me sad just thinking about it because it is so far away. But I also see the place that’s closer, that’s reachable, and that is realistic. For now, I know that I just need to get there next year, even though it’s not the place that I want to be.

The Yamim Noraim are a two sided coin. There is that feeling of regret and guilt and being stuck in a deep, deep pit that seems to have no end. That our sins have taken us to a place we cannot escape and we have no one to blame but ourselves. Yet there is also that feeling of hope, of Teshuva, that no matter how bottomless that pit might seem, Hashem has given us that ability to climb out of it. He is there to take our hand and pull us up. Maybe we have fallen, but this is our chance to rise! We can do it- it’s not too far away. There is that anguish that our actions have taken us so far away from G-d, but there is that aspiration to come back, to return to G-d. We try to come out of this time period with renewed our faith in ourselves, that we can break habits that seem so resistant and transform who we are, and renewed faith in G-d, who gave us that ability to change.

As we approach Rosh Hashana, Aseret Yimei Teshuva and Yom Kippur, I wish you all a meaningful and spiritually uplifting Yamim Noraim, and hope that your Tefillot are as passionate as you want them to be, that all of your requests are answered for the good, and that this year is a good, happy, and healthy one!

Shana Tova.

Anonymity Ethics

I would just like to start this post by stating that when I started this blog, I knew that at some point it was possible that someone would figure out who I am, so even though I chose to be anonymous, I write every post keeping in mind that it’s possible for someone to figure out that I wrote it. To my knowledge, no one knows who I am, except for the two people who I myself told about this blog. I chose to be anonymous so that I could express a certain side of myself that I don’t necessarily express outside the blogosphere. If you met me in person, you would probably be pretty surprised, since my personality on this blog is not necessarily the one that shows in person. Each time I sign in I feel almost like superman, assuming a different identity that no one knows about, and that feeling is thrilling and sort of liberating.

The question I’m posing today is directed at all you other anonymous bloggers out there, and that is: If someone figured out who you were, would you want them to tell you? The reason I’m asking these questions is that recently (I won’t say how recently) two interesting situations came up:

The first one is that I became aware that someone I know in real life is reading this blog, but does not know that I am the one writing it. I don’t know this person very well, so as far as I know of they have not made the connection between my real identity and my blog identity, but now I make an effort not to write posts containing topics from recent conversations that I’ve had with this person. Honestly, if they found out, it wouldn’t be the biggest deal, but I would prefer to remain anonymous so that I don’t feel constrained to write a certain way.

The second situation is that I discovered the real identity of a blogger (don’t get paranoid, it’s not you! And you’re not going to guess who it is, trust me). I debated whether to tell this person that I knew who they were in real life, but chose not to for two reasons. The main one is that they have absolutely no clue who I am, and I have never met them, I just know their name from mutual friends. The second is that ignorance is bliss, so why should I ruin their sense of anonymity, especially if we don’t really know each other anyway so it won’t really affect them at all?

Then I was thinking about my first situation, and what I would want that person to do if they did figure out who I was. Do I want to know that they know? Or is ignorance really bliss? My answer is: I don’t know. I’m going to leave it up to them, should they ever figure it out, and if they want to tell me because they feel bad or feel that they are lying to me, then I would understand. And if they choose to continue reading without letting me know, I respect that decision as well.

What do you think? If someone found out who you were, would you want to know? Does it matter if it’s a friend of yours vs. someone you never met, but might know their name? Do you have an obligation to tell someone if you discover their true identity?

Great Rosh Hashana Video

Back before Tisha B'Av I posted aish.com's amazing video by Charlie Harary. Aish.com put out another Charlie Harary video for Rosh Hashana, and it was really great, about love and our relationship with Hashem. Enjoy.

Rosh Hashana: What's Love Got to Do With It?