Fireworks

As I was enjoying myself, relaxing, watching the colorful fourth of July fireworks, my mind started to drift. I was thinking about how interesting it is that as long as one of our five senses is being entertained, the other sense can put up with a little bit of annoyance. Fireworks are so loud and they were really hurting my ears, yet I had a good time because I was so focused on the beautiful shiny colors. Then I started thinking, we can learn something from everything in the world. What could I learn from fireworks? What lesson could they teach me?

The first thing that came to mind was how fireworks contrast to stars. A firework is one big exciting flash of light, while stars are less flashy and don’t make you go “wow!” quite as much, but yet, fireworks last for just a few seconds, and then they are gone, while stars shine every single night. Sometimes we think serving G-d is all about this one big, crazy, super, duper, awesome moment that we throw all of our energy into, but life is about shining every single night, just a little. It’s not about the one time unusual acts that we do, but about the day in and the day out.

I was sharing this idea with someone in my family who added this nice thought: Fireworks are awesome and really capture your attention, but even after 20 minutes, it starts to get boring. It’s true- I started to glance down at my watch and was ready for it to be over already. We want life to be full of these exciting moments, inspiring moments, all the time, but the truth is that even excitement gets dull. Inspiration fades, we get used to things quickly- no matter how big, bright, shiny, and loud they are. The key is to see the same old things in our lives as new every day.




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Reflections on Tznius

I can still picture the pre-teen chubby blonde girl with glasses who looked up at me and asked curiously, "Aren't you hot wearing that?" That is probably what most Americans think when they see Orthodox Jews, particularly women, dressing in long sleeves in the summer, covering elbows and knees and even wearing tights. I remember smiling at the girl, laughing to myself at the sincere shock in her voice, and replying seriously that I was used to dressing this way and was warm, but not dying of heat. The truth is that I remember thinking the same thing when I was a little kid growing up, as I did not always dress this way: How could anyone in their right mind wear anything more than short sleeves in the summer? The funnier part is now I look at the world around me and wonder how certain people can walk around so exposed. Aren't they embarrassed to reveal so much? Every summer I think about my choice to dress in a Tznius way.

Growing up, my family emphasized the importance of modesty, but definitely not the Halachic requirements involved in keeping the laws of Tznius. Pants, short-sleeves, and even shorts were acceptable, though sleeveless shirts and mini-skirts were never part of my wardrobe. As a kid I loved the cold and hated the heat and if you had told me back then that one day I would wear long sleeves and long skirts in the summer I would have looked at you as though you were crazy. So what made me decide to start keeping Halacha? Unlike most people, and unlike the intention behind the Halachos, at first it had very little to do with modesty. The first time I began to thinking about changing the way I dressed was when I saw that my teachers dressed that way. I looked up to my teachers a lot and respected them, and they covered their elbows and only wore skirts and not pants. Why do they do that? I wondered. And why don't I do that?

For me, wearing skirts and long sleeves is about being proud to be Jewish. Guys sometimes think they have it tough since they have to wear Kippot, as it makes them stand out and screams to the world "Look at me! I am a religious Jew!" Some wear baseball caps on top to cover it up. But that is exactly the point- they do stand out. If you pass a guy with a yarmulke on the street, you know he is Jewish. We used to go places on vacation as a family and we would pass frum Jews and I'd think "Hey, fellow Jews," but they would look at me and never know that I was Jewish. Tznius for Jewish women, in addition to being about modesty, is our way of saying, "I am a religious/observant Jew," and it is is our way of identifying with each other. The same way that a Kippah represents that a Jew must keep in mind that G-d is always there above him, and it is supposed to inspire Yirat Shamayim in all actions, Tznius, for me, was a way of keeping G-d in mind always. The way people dress is their statement to the world, and I wanted the world to know that I was happy and proud to be Jewish, and specifically an Orthodox Jew. And so I started by wearing skirts.

Since wearing skirts and not pants was part of the dress code of my elementary school, the first time I wore a skirt on a Sunday, my mother looked at me confused, asked why I was wearing a skirt, and told me to go change. Being very close with my parents, I was worried this would be a source of tension, and although some use "becoming frummer" as way to rebel, I did not have that intention at all. Not knowing what to do, I changed into another skirt. By this point my mother realized what was going on, and being a Baal Teshuva, she was very understanding and told me that if I wanted to just wear skirts and not wear pants anymore, then that would be quite OK with her. It was my decision. Her words and the way she said this filled me with happiness, just knowing that she was OK with my choosing a slightly different path than hers.

I'd love to say that from that day forward I never wore pants again, but that is not what happened. Spiritual growth doesn't just happen. You try, you fall, and then you get up, and then you fall again. I went back and forth with only wearing skirts and then wearing pants again for a while. Later on in high school, once I learned more Halachot I began taking on other aspects of Tznius as well until I reached the day where keeping it was no longer difficult. My reasons for keeping Tznius soon became just as much about modesty as about Jewish pride.

I used to think that those wearing long sleeves in the summer must die of heat, but the truth is that I am indoors with air conditioning most of the time, and when I am not, that extra bit of fabric really does not make such a big difference. I got used to it pretty fast, and the heat aspect was really not a big obstacle. The bottom line is that when it's really hot outside, everyone is hot, even if you're wearing a tank top and shorts. When that girl asked me if I was hot, I smiled, knowing what I gave up, and how easy it was, and how proud I was to be Jewish.

I would just like to note that it is interesting that often when people take on new spiritual goals, they begin with the external, as was in my case. We begin on the outside becase we want to express ourselves in a way that is obvious to all, something everyone will notice so that they know we have changed internally. While external changes may seem more difficult because we face a reaction socially that we then have to deal with, sometimes it is the changes that no one sees that are the most difficult and also the more meaningful. No one will know if you take on something privately, and no one will know if you drop that goal and stop keeping it. It is those types of goals, however, which are more important than external changes such as way of dress, and I have found that they provide a bigger sense of accomplishment as well.

Food for thought: Have you ever made any religious decisions to change how you dress or to wear or not wear specific articles of clothing? What was your reason for making this change? How has it impacted your life?


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You Are Beautiful

My dear friend,
You are beautiful.
You didn’t see the way
That guy who passed you
Turned his head
To look at you
But I did.
I saw him glance back
To take an extra look
At you
Because
You’re beautiful.

Don’t walk that way,
Slouched over,
Head down,
Eyes glancing nervously
Afraid of the world
Jumping at the slightest movement.
Walk proud with confidence
Because you have so much to be confident about.
And you’re not fat, so stop asking me if you are.
No, you’re not a size 0 or a size 2
But you are not fat
And you don’t need to be either of those sizes
To be beautiful.

So don’t let that guy
Who you thought was perfect
Who didn’t want to date you
Get to you.
He doesn’t know what he is missing
His saying no to you
Is his loss.
He doesn’t know how smart and wonderful and caring you are
What a loyal, dedicated friend you are.
If he would’ve asked me, I would’ve told him.

I would have told him how beautiful you are
But more importantly
How kind and sweet you are
How practical and thoughtful and determined you are
How you have the kind of smile that can brighten a room
How much fun it is just to be with you
How you make everyone around you laugh
If he knew all that,
He would not have rejected you.

Maybe he said no to dating you because
He was intimidated by how beautiful and smart you are
Or because he was blind and couldn’t see how wonderful you are
But he did not reject you
Because you are inadequate
Nor because you’re not good enough
Nor because you aren’t beautiful enough.
If he can’t recognize
What an amazing person you are
Then I don’t think that
He is good enough for you anyway.
Don’t let rejection get you down.

Because you, my friend,
Are beautiful.
You are beautiful on the outside
And you are beautiful on the inside
And nothing that anyone else says
Or does or thinks
Can take away
Your inherent value and worth
As an amazing human being.
Oh, my friend,
Please know,
You are beautiful.




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Funny line of the week

This week , while I was in an elevator, a guy and a girl walked in laughing. After listening to their loud conversation for 2 seconds, it became apparent that the guy was sharing the story of his disaster of an experience speed dating from the night before. As they got out of the elevator he concluded, “As they say: (insert dramatic pause which made me wonder, "what *do* they say??") The goods are odd, but the odds are good.”

Wishing you all a Good Shabbos/ Shabbat Shalom!




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Shavuos: Thoughts on Accepting the Torah

When we are little kids, we kind of just do what our parents and teachers tell us to do, but once we get older we start to think about things more. For many of us who grew up FFB (Frum from birth) keeping Torah seems natural, as though “Of course I will keep Torah, what else would I do?” But the truth is that keeping Torah is a choice, and even when it is not a choice, how we choose to keep Torah is a choice.

We love to hear stories of Baalei Teshuva (BTs), because it inspires us that someone who didn’t keep Torah would change their life around to keep Torah, but really all of us should have our own story. Perhaps it is not as dramatic, and perhaps not as big of a visible change, but we all should change. I suppose the fact that I grew up with parents who are BTs and mostly non-religious relatives, and having various interactions with non-Jews as a child made me question earlier since I saw that there was an alternative to leading an Orthodox Jewish life. I remember asking my father as a child how we know that Judaism is correct, since after all, our Christian neighbors believed that their religion was correct. The funny thing is that I don’t remember his answer at all, but I remember thinking that he answered my question. It retrospect, I wonder what he said that hit the spot.

My personal acceptance of Torah began as I became a teenager, when I started to think about whether G-d exists or not. It continued when I decided I believed in G-d, and that I believed in Judaism, but I looked around and saw so many different flavors of Judaism and wondered why my family did certain things or didn’t do other things that other Jews did. Accepting Torah for me was the choice to be passionate about Torah and Mitzvot. Yes, I grew up keeping Shabbos, but did I grow up loving Shabbos? No, unfortunately I did not. My parents love Shabbos, but I as I kid I sometimes felt that it was a day that was about all of the things that I couldn’t do. Yes, I sat in shul, and flipped through the pages of the siddur, moving my lips, “davening.” But was I talking to G-d?

For those who did not grow up religious, Shavuos is a day to say once again to Hashem, “Look what I took on for you. I am accepting your Torah even though I did not grow up this way.” But for those of us who grew up keeping Mitzvot, it is a chance to say, “Hashem, I accept your Torah. Even though I am used to keeping Mitzvot out of habit, I am not just keeping Torah because my parents told me to. I accept Torah on myself.”

Each person is unique and each person has to accept Torah in their own unique way. We say in Shema “Bichol Miodecha,” that we love Hashem with everything that we personally consider “Miod” “Very” – the things that are most dear to us. I accept Torah and Mitzvot upon myself, because Hashem created me and that is what He created me to do and asks from me to do. But I also accept Torah because I love doing Mitzvot and I love the Torah.

Wishing everyone a meaningful and spiritually uplifting Shavuos and a Chag Sameach/ Gut Yuntif!



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Why I love the Israel Day Parade

This Sunday, June 5, the Salute to Israel Parade will take place, which was recently renamed the Celebrate Israel Parade and for some reason is known by most people as the "Israel(i?) Day Parade." The Parade takes place every year on Fifth Avenue in NYC. There are so many reasons that I look forward to the parade each year. The obvious reason is that it is so heartwarming to see so many Jews walking down Fifth Avenue to show their love and support for Israel. But it is more than that. The parade is not only a chance to show pride in Israel, but is a chance to show pride in our Judaism. I love the feeling of unity that exists when different Jews from different places with different beliefs gather together for one thing that we all believe in. We take a day to throw our differences aside and gather together marching on a busy street in a busy city in a non-Jewish country with smiles on our faces sending the message, "I am proud to be a Jew!"

As much as I had fun marching in the parade for many years, watching the parade is possibly even more fun. It is fascinating to see the different schools, shuls, and organizations, many of which I had no idea even existed, with their different t-shirt designs and their interesting bands, musicians, dancers, banners, and floats. I love the kids who smile those big smiles as they hear the crowd cheering them on.

The only other time that I have been in a place- indoors or outdoors- with so many other Jews, is at rallies. But this time, instead of rallying together, we celebrate together. In the parade, we celebrate being able to live in and visit our homeland. We show our support for Israel. And despite our differences we gather together and shout to the world, "We are proud to be Jews!"

For those of you who cannot make it to the parade, you can watch the parade here live on Sunday, June 5 from 12pm-2pm.


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Summertime

Summer tastes like peach Snapple, ice coffee, and cold Coca Cola with one thousand ice cubes. It sounds like waves rushing up against the sand and the cheers of school aged children who shout as though they have been set free. Summer smells like sunscreen, the dust from air conditioners, and like the music of an ice cream truck. It begins with the cheesecake of Shavuos and ends with the honey on Rosh Hashana. Summer feels like the warm sun beating down like a fire and a cool breeze that provides relief.

Summer feels like a break, an escape, a change. The end of one thing and the beginning of another. A time to move on. But it is not only in the summer that things change. Life is full of changes, and the start of each season is just a reminder. Change can be exciting or nerve-wracking, or both. Sometimes change sneaks up on when you don't expect it, suddenly coming at you like a baseball flying 90 miles an hour. You see it coming seconds before you have to react and figure out what to do with it and how to adapt. Sometimes you cause the change yourself. You make a choice, a decision, to step off the path you've been going down and veer slightly in a different direction. In those cases you'd think you'd be much more prepared. I mean, you have had time to think about what to do when it comes. You should be prepared. So why is it just as hard?

We, human beings, get used to things so quickly. We don’t like to change. My favorite example is how the seat you choose on the first day of class is the one you will sit in the rest of the year. The second day of class some people will move around, but that is your only chance, because on the second day of class most people will sit in the exact same spot they sat in the first day of class. So you had better watch out because you might be taking someone’s spot.

Change brings risk. What if things are not as good when they change? Maybe things are bad now, but at least we are in comfortable, safe territory. Why travel into the unknown? It is a wonder that we ever change. But yet, despite our unwillingness, we can awaken the spirit of change within ourselves. Our hope that things will be better carries us through. Our sense of adventure and our desire for something new and fresh takes over us.

At some point we all thought this unusually cold and snowy NY winter would never end, but spring briefly visited, and now it is so hot that a person can begin longing for those bitter cold days. Or at least for the spring. But we have to hold on to every minute of it because soon enough the leaves will slowly turn those pleasant autumn colors, and the next season will sneak up on us before we know it.

As I taste the flavor of my iced coffee and feel the heat on my skin, I take a deep breath and think about where my life is going and where I want it to go. I think about the choices I have and the changes ahead. And I pray for the clarity to pick the right path and the strength to make the changes that I should make, and the courage to face all of changes in my life- the good ones, the not as good ones, and the small ones, the ones I hope for, the ones that happen suddenly, and the ones for which I have long been prepared.



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Power of Words

Great Video:

Age is relative

Sometimes we get caught up in the mentality that being single over a certain age is old. That age is different in different communities- in some places it is 21 and others that magic age is 25. In this post that I wrote, some felt 23 was the age of an old maid. This article which someone sent me claims that Kate Middleton made it "cool to get married at 29." Interesting. This reminds me of those who say there is no shidduch crisis, the community just needs to change the mentality that being single over the age of (fill in the blank here) is so terrible. Granted, this is different in the secular world where couples do not observe the mitzvah of shomer negiah. Even though Kate waited until she was 29 to get married, she apparently had been dating the Prince for a long time already.


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Israel and Yom HaAtzmaut

The first time I visited Israel, I was disappointed. I was disappointed because I did not feel a connection to Israel at all. I had learned about Eretz Yisrael in school, seen pictures of it, heard stories of it, and I knew it was an important place. So I thought that when I got there I would feel like I was in some place special, spiritual, holy. I tried so hard to feel the holiness when I was there, but I left feeling guilty. Guilty that I should be falling in love with our holy land, the land with so much historical significance, so much religious significance, but I did not feel connected.

My second trip to Israel was a similar story. By that point I was in high school and I was sure that things would be different because I was older. But it was the same story. I tried even harder the second time around to feel connected, to fall in love with Israel, but I had to face the fact that while both times I greatly enjoyed my trips, I did not experience the "WOW" feeling that everyone else I knew experienced. While everyone I knew would rant about how great Israel was, and would long to go back, I just sat there silently. Though I thought I was the only one feeling this disconnect, there were others who felt this way, and one such person felt brave enough to ask this question in an "ask the Rabbi" session I was at. My ears perked up as soon as she asked the question.

The Rabbi responded that there are different types of pleasures in life. Some types of pleasures we experience immediately, such as tasting good food, or smelling a pleasant smell. Others take a little bit of time to experience, such as a friendship or relationship. At the beginning of a relationship you don't feel connected to the person because you don't have shared experience and you haven't built the relationship yet. But picture a long lasting friendship or marriage that has lasted 20 or 30 years. The type of pleasure that a person receives from such a relationship is much deeper than the pleasure one gets from eating a piece of cake. The same is true for Eretz Yisrael.

Visiting Israel is not like visiting other countries. You can't just go and expect to automatically be connected. It is a relationship that you have to build, one that develops over time. But once it is developed, it is deeper than other connections. This answer really hit home for me, and that is why I share it with you today. I was fortunate enough to experience this deep connection first hand during the year I spent in Seminary in Israel.

I recall the first times I went to the Kotel, before my year in Israel, standing there repeating in my head, "This is where the Beit HaMikdash stood" over and over, trying to get it through my head that this was not just some random wall of stones. Perhaps the fact that it was crowded and that there were women pushing me, was unhelpful to my attempt to concentrate, but I couldn't feel anything. I was not overwhelmed or emotional, I just was. Contrast that to experience I had after a few months in Israel, after going to the Kotel many times. I can picture myself standing at the Kotel, closing my eyes, breathing in the fresh air, listening to the mumbles all around me, until emotion floods me and I pour my heart out to Hashem. To this day, the best Tefillah that I ever davened (aside from perhaps Rosh Hashana/Yom Kippur davening) was there at the Kotel.

Despite my initial indifference, or perhaps because of it, I can now say that I feel a strong connection to Israel and that I love Israel. It is a deep part of me and a place that is always in my thoughts. My davening is different because of it, especially the parts of davening that mention Israel, and specifically the bracha V'Lirushalayim Ircha in Shemoneh Esrei. I love the hills, the flowers, the sky, the streets, the homes.

I love Eretz Yisrael, our holy land, given to the Jewish people by G-d. I feel that it is easier to feel Hashem’s presence in Israel. I love the spiritual, religious, experience I have there, and I love modern day Israel. I love how today Israel is a homeland where all Jews have the right to be. I love how the entire country celebrates the Jewish Holidays, as opposed to how in the United States celebrating chagim feels strange, separating us out from the mindset of the rest of the country. I love that after centuries Jews can live in the place where we belong, that we have returned after a long exile.

Tonight and tomorrow we celebrate Yom HaAtzmaut, celebrating the fact that we, the Jewish people, have returned to our homeland. And while we ultimately await the coming of Mashiach and the rebuilding of the Beit Hamikdash, we thank Hashem for the numerous miracles that He has performed to give us this wonderful gift, of Eretz Yisrael.

Every day we praise Hashem and thank Him for the wonderful pleasures of this world, the ones that we experience every day- food, clothing, shelter. Tonight and tomorrow is a time for us to thank Hashem for giving us a place where we can join together and unite, and for a place where we are able to connect to Hashem, more than any place in the world. Even though it may take time, once we get there, it is worth the effort.

May this gift from Hashem of Eretz Yisrael, which we received again in 1948, be followed by the bracha of peace throughout the world and particularly in Eretz Yisrael. May this be the beginning of the final of redemption, and may the Beit Hamikdash be rebuilt very soon with the coming of Mashiach, to bring us to the days when all Jews will gather from the four corners of the world and unite in the holy land that Hashem gave to us, Israel.


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Sefirat HaOmer

It is Sefirat HaOmer again, and like every year I can tell it is going by so fast that by the time it gets to Shavuos I realize I haven’t prepared at all. Like always around this time, the topic of loving fellow Jews is on my mind. Actually that topic is frequently on my mind, not just during Sefira, but I guess that is just how I was brought up. Neither of my parents grew up Orthodox, though both grew up with a strong connection to Judaism. Because of this, though I always attended religious schools, during my childhood I found myself in non-religious or even non-Jewish environments.

This exposure really strengthened my Judaism, because when you are 10 or 11 years old and a non-Jewish kid asks you, “What does Kosher mean?” you have know the answer and know what you’re talking about. When your Reform friend comes over for shabbos and asks you questions, you need to know why you do what you do, and when your Conservative relative brings you to their synagogue, then you learn why in your shul the men and women sit separately, while in her shul they sit together. In addition, my experiences made me sensitive to the attitudes of Jews towards one another, particularly the attitudes of Orthodox Jews towards the other denominations.

Being Orthodox means believing that all of Torah (Torah shebichtav and Torah shebaal peh) are from Hashem, and this means disagreeing with Reform, Conservative, Reconstructionist or other types of Jews, but disagreement does not mean that the Orthodox attitude should be anything less than “ViAhavta L’Rayacha Kamocha” towards them.

I write this because a friend recently told me a story which she prefaced as being a “funny story” that had been making the rounds. The story was about non-religious Jews who enter an Orthodox home where the family is sitting shiva. Not knowing the protocol of what to do, they notice people muttering statements to the mourners, but do not know what to say. So they approach the mourners and read the only sign they see visible, the one that lists the davening times. Apparently this is amusing, but I do not find it to be so. Since I heard this story after it had been passed through a whole chain of people, I can only hope that it has been altered and that the situation was not as bad as it sounds.

I give credit to the fact that from the report I heard no one laughed out loud, and no one informed them of their mistake in a way that would embarrass them. I also of course don’t blame the mourners, who are going through difficult times. What bothers me about the story is that there were other frum Jews in the room. Why did none of them notice a few clearly non-religious people standing around awkwardly looking for direction? Could no one have approached them and tried to explain what to do?

This is just a story, but many non-religious Jews feel that Orthodox Jews look down on them. They feel this way because many Orthodox Jews do look down on them. That pains me because the Torah attitude is not to judge others and if there is anyone who should excel at kindness in interpersonal relationships, at Mitzvot Bein Adam L’Chavero, it is those who keep Torah. Unfortunately that is not always the case. I had a teacher who said that when it comes to our relationships with people, we have to separate the Gavra and the Cheftza- the person and their actions. As frum Jews, may disagree with the actions of non-religious Jews- the fact that they do not keep shabbos or kashrus, but our attitude towards their actions does not need to be the same as our attitude towards them as people.

I don’t mean to lump all Orthodox Jews into this category, and in fact most of the Orthodox Jews I know are kind towards non-religious Jews, and I most often see religious Jews making a Kiddush Hashem with their outstanding behavior. During this time I think about how important it is to work on how we deal with other people. This skill is a different one than we are often used to working on in life. We grow up attending school, where the focus is on learning, on how much you know, on being smart, on intelligence, on getting good grades. A person can be brilliant or knowledge, a person can even know the halachos and know how to treat people right, but that does not translate into action. That is what we learn from Rabbi Akiva’s talmidim. No doubt that they were brilliant and knew a tremendous amount of Torah, more than we can fathom. But they did not treat each other right, and at the end of the day, that was important to Hashem.



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A Proper Blogoversary Post

An interesting thing happened just around my blogoversary which is worthy to write about in this post. My parents decided to clean up my room in their house, (no this is not the interesting thing…wait for it…) where I no longer live, but still have tons of stuff, lots of it is garbage. As I was going through it all, among the stuff, I found something unbelievably amazing. I found my diary from over a decade ago, a journal that I wrote in intermittently between the ages of 10 through 13. Extremely curious as to what in the world my thoughts were at that age, I carefully opened it up and went back in time to my childhood, to when I began to discover that I like to write.

The pages were filled with what I did each day, how I felt about just about everything, and memories I had long forgotten about. One diary entry contained thoughts that were so not me at all that I don’t remember ever thinking in my life, and I burst out laughing. I sure was an interesting kid. I found myself wishing I had written more down, recorded more, especially when I got up to descriptions of my grandfather who passed away before I reached high school, or when I reached points in time where I know important events happened that I barely wrote about. I looked back at the past with very different eyes. It’s amazing how words are like time capsules that can take us back to any place and time. Writing is a great way to preserve memories, but also a great form of self-expression.

About a year and a half ago I was looking for a new hobby. Something fun to spice up my life a little, to escape from boredom, not just the kind of boredom when you have nothing to do, but the kind when your bored with what you are doing. That’s when a friend of mine suggested I start a blog. I had never really read any blogs, and didn’t know what to write about, so I started reading. I’ve often wanted to share my thoughts with the world and after enough reading I decided it could be a lot of fun and so a year ago I started this blog.

I didn’t really know what to call the blog, and I admit I don’t love this blog’s name, but it was the easiest thing I could think of. Although I always loved school because I love learning and knowledge, I always thought “real life” would begin when school was over, and I was quite anxious for that. Then I graduated, and although my tagline is that “I pretty much knew what to expect from life and then I graduated college,” that is not completely true. Like any other average person, life had thrown me my share of disappointments in the past. Facing life after college was not a big surprise, but it was a bit of a wake up call. All the sudden I had the chance to do anything I wanted, the world was mine to explore, there were so many paths I could take, and long story made short the excitement was kind of paralyzing, and not everything went quite the way I thought it would. It was like the scene from Finding Nemo when the fish have spent the entire movie trying to get out of the fish tank in the dentists office, and they finally come up with a plan that works, but there they are sitting in plastic bags in the ocean, so free yet so trapped, and they turn to each other and say, “Now what?”

I’ve learned a lot in the past year, and I have learned a lot from blogging. I have learned that sometimes when you write and release your thoughts, you let them go and allow yourself to move on, while other times recording thoughts instead causes those thoughts which you wanted to let go, to run through your mind again and again and again. I discovered that no matter how clear and obvious you think you are being people will always read things they way they choose and not the way you intended them, that once you press “post” it is out there for people to read as they like. I learned that some things are difficult to say, even if you’re anonymous.

It’s been a fun year of blogging, and I look forward to the next year going forward. Blogging would never be the same without readers, and I would like to thank all of you reading this for reading, especially those of you who have shared positive or constructive feedback through comments or email. I truly enjoy hearing from you. Thanks for reading! :)




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Happy Blogoversary to me!

Today is my Blogoversary! Happy Blogoversary to me! :) Due to erev Pesach craziness, I don't have time for a long post, but I did want to acknowledge the occasion, and to thank all of you readers for reading! I hope to write a real blogoversary post at a later point.

Wishing you all a Chag Kasher V'Sameach!!



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Pesach Divrei Torah

Seven Divrei Torah for Pesach:

I apologize that I don’t have sources for all of these Divrei Torah. They come from things that I read in various Haggadahs and heard from various teachers. Enjoy!

#1
A speaker I heard once told this Dvar Torah in the name of the AriZal. He says that the purpose of the Simanei HaSeder (Kadesh, Urchatz etc.) is to describe the path of Avodas Hashem.

Kadesh- We start off by stating the goal: to reach Kedusha, holiness.
Urchatz- The first step to holiness is we must "wash ourselves"- we must get rid of all of the bad actions we are doing.
Karpas- When we first start serving G-d, all we have is a little taste of how good it is.
Yachatz- Next, we break the matza = we try to break our bad character traits.
Maggid- After that, the next step is to learn Torah.
Rachtza- Now we wash our hands WITH a bracha. We cleanse ourselves again, this time with intention.
Motzei Matza- We finally get to start eating. Now we start to see the results here of our actions.
Marror- After that, sometimes things get really hard and it's not easy, or exciting. This represents the hard times we go through in serving G-d and keeping Torah.
Korech- It's bad and good together- it's the next step, when things still aren't so great, but they are getting better.
Shulchan Orech- Part of a keeping Torah is being patient and waiting. After this whole LONG Seder, finally we have the meal. Sometimes it's hard to wait so long, but it's worth it.
Tzafun- We realize that there is so much that is hidden from us; so much we don't know or understand.
Barech and Hallel- We Thank G-d and praise G-d for everything He has done for us.
Nirtza- This talks about the future- Mashiach etc.


#2
An important part of the Seder night is Tefilla, prayer. A Gemara in Psachim, says that Matza is called "Lechem Oni" (literally a poor man's bread) because "sheh onin alav dvarim harbeh"- that Hashem answers our prayers. Note that the root of "oni" and of the Hebrew word for answer "ana" are similar. All of our prayers are answered and that's why it's called Lechem Oni. In addition, Pesach = Peh Sach, a mouth that speaks, talks. I once heard that in some Haggadas, right after Ha Lachma Anya, and right before Mah Nishtana, it says "Kan HaBen Shoel," which means, "here the son asks," but it could also be referring to Bnei Yisrael, the children of Hashem. Here we have the chance to ask for something from Hashem.

#3
The four sons: The Rasha/wicked son asks: מה העבודה הזאת לכם What is this work that you are doing? What is wrong with his question? The chacham’s question is not so far off!
He sees it as work and it is work, it’s not easy. But he builds it up- it’s work it’s too hard, it’s impossible, you should just give up. That’s why he’s the rasha. Not because he sins, everyone sins at some point, no one is perfect, but he says “its impossible; I shouldn’t even bother trying.” And this idea is completely against what we believe. We do NOT believe that it’s all or nothing. (See my post on that topic) G-d asks a lot from us, and although we strive for perfection, G-d knows we are not perfect, he didn’t create angels. All we are supposed to do is try. The Rasha/wicked son doesn’t even try. That’s why the opposite of the wicked son is not called “the Tzadik,” “the righteous son” it’s the Chacham- the son who is learned, who always asks, who tries to learn more. At the end of the day he is admired not for accomplishing, but because of his constant quest for growth and for striving to be better and not saying “It’s too hard so I might as well not do any of it.” Every little thing we do is precious to G-d. Pirkei Avot says- you don’t know which things are big to G-d and which things are small.

#4
Also on the four sons: Why is it in that order? You would think it would go in order of greatness- the חכם/wise son being first and the רשע/wicked son being last. Why is it not that way? Because they each have something to learn from each other. The חכם must not become arrogant and say, “look at me! I’m so smart and good and wise!” He must realize that he is right next to the wicked son on the list- if he is not careful, then he will become wicked. Being good isn’t a point you reach and don’t have to worry about ever losing that status, it’s something you must constantly work on. The wicked son must also learn his lesson that he is right next to the wise son on the list- he is so close to being righteous, it’s not that far away, not something he can’t hope to achieve.

#5
לא על ידי מלאך ולא על ידי שליח. G-d redeemed the Jews himself, not through an angel or a messenger. We are supposed to emulate G-d. What we can learn through this is that Every single person has a unique purpose in this world. We all have to ask ourselves, “Why did G-d put me here on this world?” And the answer is to do a specific task that cannot be done by anyone else in the world. We are put in our generation, in this year for a reason, put in this place, this family for a reason. And our task can’t be done by anyone else- not by an angel, not by a messenger, we each have unique talents and abilities that G-d gave us specially to use to fulfill our unique task in this world. (Breslov idea)

#6
On a similar note, Rav Kook asks: If we went from being slaves to Pharoh to being Ovdei Hashem = servants to servants, how did we really achieve cheirut, freedom? He answers that everyone has things that are unique to them, their abilities and their specific potential. When they are forced to do something against their nature, that isn’t made for them, that is slavery. But when they do want they are supposed to do, what they are meant to do, and can be themselves fully, then they are free. The Jewish people are inherently supposed to be servants of Hashem. He has made them for this purpose. By being ovdei Hashem we are fulfilling are purpose and so it is true freedom.

#7
In the Haggadah we read about ברית בין הבתרים, how Hashem promises Avraham that his children will be slaves, but ultimately redeemed. Isn’t this a strange promise? I promise that your children will be slaves. Oh, great, how comforting!! Why did Hashem make this promise to Abraham that his children will be slaves? Why was this experience necessary for us in order to become a nation? There are many answers to this question, and here are a bunch that I have complied:
• Unity: The Torah was given to us as a nation, we had to be numerous, because when people come together, that is SO powerful. The Jewish people are described as one person with one heart. Additionally, if the Torah was given to just one person then perhaps we would say “oh it’s only for him to keep, it was not given to me.” The Torah was give to lots of different people, are there are many of different ways to connect to G-d.
• G-d wanted us to experience difficulties and hardships so we would learn how to deal with them. Imagine that a child never got sick, and then she grows up and is 30 years old and gets sick. She wouldn’t know what to do with it. Life isn’t easy, and G-d wanted to prepare us for that.
• Another point, which is mentioned other plaches in the Tora, is that we needed this experience so we would know what it was like to be strangers, and so we would learn how to treat others. If someone is mean to you, then you learn that it’s bad to be mean and you need to be nice to other people. This is a very important message that G-d wanted us to learn.
• There are a lot of reasons for struggles. That’s how we grow. An interesting thing about a seed- we bury it in the dirt, only through burying it can it ultimately grow. Additionally, one reason we have struggles is to help others who have the same struggle. The Jewish people can say to other slaves, “Hey, we were slaves once, and look! G-d saved us. Hang in there, things will turn out Ok for you too.” If we do badly in a class and then work hard and in the end we do well, then when someone else is struggling, we too can say “I was also failing out of chemistry, let me help you, cause I know what that’s like.” G-d also gives us struggles so that we will call out to Him in prayer and through the prayer we change ourselves and become deserving of the thing we are asking for. G-d gives us struggles in life for so many reasons, but the struggle is designed specifically for us, to help us work on the things we need to work on.
• “No situation is so desperate that it cannot be turned to good”- Rebbe Nachman. That is something to learn from the Exodus from Egypt. No matter how bad things get, they can always turn around.


I hope this Pesach we will each be able to get the most out of our seder, absorb the numerous messages within the Haggadah, and that we should each receive personal redemption for all of our personal challenges and difficulties. May Hashem send our national redemption with the coming of Mashiach, bimiheira biyamenu. I wish you all a meaningful, uplifting, inspirational, wonderful, happy Pesach, and a Chag Kasher V’Sameach!!



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Pesach Thoughts

There are very few words in the English or Hebrew language that make me quite as excited or happy as the word “Pesach.” (Shh don’t tell my mom!) In case the previous sentence didn’t give it away, Pesach is my favorite Chag, for a few reasons. The main reason is that it is a family-oriented holiday and I love spending time with my family. The second reason is the simple idea that the more you put into something, the more you get out. The more you prepare and work for something, the more sense of accomplishment you feel. Pesach requires more prep than any other chag, and as crazy and stressful as it is sometimes, I love the experience simply because I put so much into it and spent so much time on it. The third reason I love Pesach so much is that the themes of the chag seem to resonate with me a lot:

1. Freedom. Luckily I never experience slavery, but I always learned that although Pesach refers to a national redemption, Pesach is also about personal redemption. We all have difficulties and problems in life- that’s how life goes and I wouldn’t have it any other way. But recognizing G-d as the source of salvation and freedom from all of life’s challenges- whether it is a rift in friendship or with a family member or other relationship, whether it is a lack of clarity or direction. Whatever your issue is right now, just take a look at what G-d did for the Jews. The situation seemed hopeless, but Hashem proved that we should never despair. Hityatzivu U’Riu et Yishuat Hashem. Just watch! Hashem can save you.

2. The theme of love and closeness between Hashem and B’nei Yisrael. We read Shir Hashirim on Pesach, and the entire story of Yitziat Mitzrayim and Kriyat Yam Suf is full of Hashem saying, “I love you” to us and us responding with “I love you” to Hashem. That is why we call this chag “Pesach,” remembering what Hashem did for us, passing over our houses and only killing the Egyptians, while Hashem in the Torah never calls this chag Pesach, but rather Chag HaMatzot, “remembering” in a sense, what we, B’nei Yisrael, did for Hashem, our mitzvot- we ran out before our dough had a chance to rise, and today we do the Mitzvah of eating Matzah on Pesach.

3. The theme of spring, Chag HaAviv, renewal. Spring is a beautiful season. Watching trees that had no leaves on them start to blossom and watching the leaves appear amazes me every year. Plants are dead in the winter, things are dark and gloomy, and then spring comes and the flowers come out and it is just wonderful. We, too, can renew ourselves. We all have low points, and we can all start over. It is interesting in Judaism that we have two beginnings of the year and two beginnings of each day. A Jewish day begins at night, but in some sense, the morning is also the beginning of the day- we say Modeh Ani, it’s a new chance. Each year has two beginning points. Tishrei and Rosh Hashana are the beginning in some sense, but Nisan is the first month of the year, too.

There is so much more out there to say about Pesach, but those three points are the main points that really speak to me. Hopefully I’ll get a chance to post some of my favorite Divrei Torah to say at the seder, but I am always on the lookout for new Divrei Torah to share at my seder, so feel free to post your favorite thoughts and ideas in the comments or email me!

Also, if you have not yet seen this video, put out by aish.com it is really great:

Google Exodus




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