Recently, I bought a blender. Perhaps it seems like a simple, boring task to you, but it wasn’t for me. Maybe when I tell you why, you’ll find it depressing, but I don’t care; I find it empowering. It goes like this: We each have our own list of things. The things we are waiting to get married to do, or the things we are doing that we’re waiting to get married to stop doing. Things that don’t by definition go along with getting married. For example, some wait to rent/buy their own apartment/house until marriage. “I’m not going to move out of my parents’ house yet, I’ll wait until I get married to do that,” some say. For others the list includes buying nice furniture instead of something temporary or nice artwork for their walls and just leaving them blank. After all, they reason, what use is there to decorating when you’re hoping to get married and move out soon? This realization that there were things I was waiting to get married to do, that I don’t have to wait for marriage to do, hit me after I wrote the short poem below, several months ago:
"There is no one out there for me," I tell myself.
Not because it is true, but because I need to believe it.
No more sitting around waiting for that guy to show up
Time to stop waiting and start living,
Living my life as the best me that I can be,
Instead of constantly making sure I am ready,
Ready for someone else to enter into my life,
And suddenly be the most important person in it.
All this waiting, all this trying to be ready,
Is preventing myself from the one thing,
That is true preparation,
Living my life and doing the things I do,
Fulfilling the purpose I was meant for.
But if I don't make room for him to come in
Then perhaps when he shows up
I'll have to stop everything and create space
Rework my life to make room for him to fit in it,
And I want the space to be all ready for him.
It’s time to stop leaving a big empty hole in my life,
Waiting for someone to fill that empty, deep, hole.
My life should be full right now, even without him
And his life should be full without me
And when we meet we will weave our two separate full lives together
Uniting two complete pieces, merging into one
Instead of taking two half lives and only together making a whole.
"There is no one out there for me," I tell myself.
Not because it is true, but because I need to believe it.
I need to believe it to move on.
It took a certain event in my life to create this wake up moment, and while it wasn’t a positive event that did it, I needed the wake up call because I hadn’t even realized that I was waiting around. It was completely subconscious, until it dawned on me that like most singles, I too have a list of the things we are not doing because we are waiting to get married to do them. “I’ll do that when I get married,” we say.
Well, it’s time to move on with my life. When I say move on, I don’t mean give up. I don’t mean taking the opposite approach and saying “Well, I’m never getting married, so I might as well do all those things I was waiting to do.” That would be depressing. What I mean is not living life around the possibility of getting married. Why wait for something that I have no idea when it will happen? I don’t know when I am going to get married and here is an idea: It doesn’t matter when. Hashem has it all planned out and I have to stop putting my life on hold.
So, I bought a blender. I always figured a nice blender was one of those things you get at your wedding shower, or as a wedding gift. Why bother investing in one now? Then I realized: Why wait to get married to buy a blender if I really want one? But yet, buying a blender seemed to symbolize giving up hope, as though I was saying, “OK, I’m probably never going to get married, so I might as well buy a blender.” So, I put it off. But now, I am done waiting. And if the right guy shows up tomorrow, well, I’ll figure it out. Telling myself that, “there is no one out there for me” might sound depressing, but pretending that it’s true changes how I live my life. Waiting to find the right guy is hard enough, no need to make it harder by making yourself wait for other things as well. Do what you need to do to be happy with your life.
___
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Friday, July 29, 2011
QPT: Parshat Masei
Quick Parsha Thought: Parshat Masei
No matter how many times you read something, each time you see it in a different light. I find that every time I read the parsha something different jumps out at me. Here are a some of my observations from reading the parsha this week:
I like this parsha for a very ironic reason: I used to really dislike it. I was bothered because I never understood why the Torah, which values every single letter and even every dot as being important, spent so much space listing all the places B'nei Yisrael traveled in the dessert. At least if it had to list all the places, it might as well write it as a list instead of so many Psukim that start off with "ViYisu" and then "Vayachanu." Why does it list everything? When I first heard the answer that I liked, which was a very long time ago, this became one of the parshas that I liked the most. The answer, of course, is that life is a journey, and every single step along the way is important. Often we are so focused on getting to the end goal, that we don't realize that the process of getting there is equally as important as the end goal.
This week I was struck by the Mashal that Rashi quotes from Rabbi Tanchuma, comparing the list of locations that Hashem lists in the Torah, to a King with an ill son. The King travels very far with the son to heal him, and the son is healed. On their way back home, the King points out the son each of the places they stopped on their way and the terrible situation they were each one of them. This confused me. I had never thought of this parsha as a list of "Remember how bad it was when we were stopped over there," but rather a positive list with the positive aspects of each location fondly being recalled. After I thought about this more, I realized that it is the same thing. Our journeys in life are not easy, they are full of stops and bumps in the road. The obstacles we face may be tough, but in the end, the lessons we learn from them are what make us stronger.
Yes, right over there is where I fell and hurt my foot! And I stumbled and hurt myself in that spot, right there! But I picked myself up. I learned lessons that I would not have learned if I had not fallen. And the Torah lists these places at the end of the journey, once they are about to reach the destination, because most lessons are only learned in retrospect. At the time of the obstacle, things are awful! Things are challenging and terrible, and even painful. But then you look back and say, "Yes, that was bad, but I'm glad I went through it. I wouldn't have wished that upon myself, but now that it is over, I am glad the experience taught me so much."
May we all take this chance to look back at the past and see the important lessons we learned along the path that got us to where we are today in life, and may we appreciate the road and path we are on right now, and value the process itself, the journey, and not just the goal we are striving toward.
_
No matter how many times you read something, each time you see it in a different light. I find that every time I read the parsha something different jumps out at me. Here are a some of my observations from reading the parsha this week:
I like this parsha for a very ironic reason: I used to really dislike it. I was bothered because I never understood why the Torah, which values every single letter and even every dot as being important, spent so much space listing all the places B'nei Yisrael traveled in the dessert. At least if it had to list all the places, it might as well write it as a list instead of so many Psukim that start off with "ViYisu" and then "Vayachanu." Why does it list everything? When I first heard the answer that I liked, which was a very long time ago, this became one of the parshas that I liked the most. The answer, of course, is that life is a journey, and every single step along the way is important. Often we are so focused on getting to the end goal, that we don't realize that the process of getting there is equally as important as the end goal.
This week I was struck by the Mashal that Rashi quotes from Rabbi Tanchuma, comparing the list of locations that Hashem lists in the Torah, to a King with an ill son. The King travels very far with the son to heal him, and the son is healed. On their way back home, the King points out the son each of the places they stopped on their way and the terrible situation they were each one of them. This confused me. I had never thought of this parsha as a list of "Remember how bad it was when we were stopped over there," but rather a positive list with the positive aspects of each location fondly being recalled. After I thought about this more, I realized that it is the same thing. Our journeys in life are not easy, they are full of stops and bumps in the road. The obstacles we face may be tough, but in the end, the lessons we learn from them are what make us stronger.
Yes, right over there is where I fell and hurt my foot! And I stumbled and hurt myself in that spot, right there! But I picked myself up. I learned lessons that I would not have learned if I had not fallen. And the Torah lists these places at the end of the journey, once they are about to reach the destination, because most lessons are only learned in retrospect. At the time of the obstacle, things are awful! Things are challenging and terrible, and even painful. But then you look back and say, "Yes, that was bad, but I'm glad I went through it. I wouldn't have wished that upon myself, but now that it is over, I am glad the experience taught me so much."
May we all take this chance to look back at the past and see the important lessons we learned along the path that got us to where we are today in life, and may we appreciate the road and path we are on right now, and value the process itself, the journey, and not just the goal we are striving toward.
_
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Confrontation
I thought I was being nice
Letting it go
Letting it pass
Not saying anything
Not nagging you about a detail
Putting my annoyance aside
It's no big deal.
This is for your benefit
So I don't hurt you
So I don't offend you
Avoiding confrontation
Forgiving just this once
and just this once
and just this once
But now I see
that I was actually being mean
Holding it in
Letting things build up
One small thing at a time
Bit by bit
Finding quiet, subtle ways to get back
Letting it eat at me
Letting it drive me crazy
Until one day
I explode
It all comes out of me
All those small things
are now one big deal
Just this once
Just this once
Is not just once
Not anymore
Now it's thousands of times.
Rage, anger,
frustration, annoyance
pour out of me
burst out of me
crawl out of me
Accusing you
Critisizing you
Scolding you
Demanding you change
Announcing your guilt
While you stare at me confused
Wondering what you did wrong
Where all this came from
You had no idea
What's going on
What is she talking about
Because I didn't tell you
Because I was trying to be nice
Because it wasn't a big deal
It really wasn't
Next time I will tell you
Though you'll look at me crazy
and tell me not to make a big deal
and insist it's just something small
Why do I need to nag you
I will say something
I will confront you
I will admit, "That bothers me."
To truly be nice
and save you from an explosion
that you don't deserve.
_
Letting it go
Letting it pass
Not saying anything
Not nagging you about a detail
Putting my annoyance aside
It's no big deal.
This is for your benefit
So I don't hurt you
So I don't offend you
Avoiding confrontation
Forgiving just this once
and just this once
and just this once
But now I see
that I was actually being mean
Holding it in
Letting things build up
One small thing at a time
Bit by bit
Finding quiet, subtle ways to get back
Letting it eat at me
Letting it drive me crazy
Until one day
I explode
It all comes out of me
All those small things
are now one big deal
Just this once
Just this once
Is not just once
Not anymore
Now it's thousands of times.
Rage, anger,
frustration, annoyance
pour out of me
burst out of me
crawl out of me
Accusing you
Critisizing you
Scolding you
Demanding you change
Announcing your guilt
While you stare at me confused
Wondering what you did wrong
Where all this came from
You had no idea
What's going on
What is she talking about
Because I didn't tell you
Because I was trying to be nice
Because it wasn't a big deal
It really wasn't
Next time I will tell you
Though you'll look at me crazy
and tell me not to make a big deal
and insist it's just something small
Why do I need to nag you
I will say something
I will confront you
I will admit, "That bothers me."
To truly be nice
and save you from an explosion
that you don't deserve.
_
Friday, July 22, 2011
QPT: Parshat Matot
Quick Parsha Thoughts: Parshat Matot
No matter how many times you read something, each time you see it in a different light. I find that every time I read the parsha something different jumps out at me. Here are a couple of my observations from reading the parsha this week:
Sometimes just ONE word changes how you read a story. So I was reading the parsha and get up to the part where the Shvatim of Reuven and Gad approach Moshe and ask, "Hi, so if it's OK with you, can we just stay here instead of crossing over to the other side of the Jordan river?" At this point in my head I was thinking, "No! Why would you want to not go into Eretz Yisrael? Hashem told you the land is holy, and you are so close. Don't you want Kedusha? You haven't even seen Israel yet. How do you know this land is better for your cattle?" That would have been my first response. I was also thinking about how, given last week's parsha, this request must have been so painful for Moshe. He wanted so badly to go into Eretz Yisrael, and here Reuven and Gad are saying, "Yeah, we can go in, and you can't, but we don't want to. Can we just stay here?" Anyone besides the great Moshe Rabeinu might have said, "Hello? You are so lucky to be able to go into Israel. Why are you giving that up? How can you even ask me that you don't want to live in Eretz Yisrael proper?"
But Moshe's reply begins with just one word that gets to the core of the issue. And that word is אחיכם (or האחיכם to be more precise). Moshe responds: Let's put everything aside for a minute. Forget me and my personal situation of not being able to go into Eretz Yisrael. Forget about the fact that Eretz Yisrael is kadosh. Let's focus on your brothers. What about the rest of B'nei Yisrael? They need your help to fight and conquer Eretz Yisrael. You can't just leave them like this. Plus if you don't go to war with them they are going to get really discouraged and it is going to be another Miraglim situation all over again. I've already been there and done that with the whole "Well, we don't know if we like Eretz Yisrael" stuff which then sends everyone into a panic. Not happening again.
So they agree to go to war with the rest of B'nei Yisrael, but they still don't fully get it and mention their animals, before their children, as a reason to settle on the other side of the Jordan. And what is really shocking, is that Moshe agrees. I mean, there are so many times in Judaism where someone says, "Hey, can I do this?" and the answer is "No." For some reason, Reuven and Gad are granted their request, with Moshe adding that their receiving that land is conditional on their going to war, and also with Moshe adding some of Menasheh to go with them. What a lesson to be learned from this parsha. What is the priority? Consider your brothers, your nation. Think about others first.
Have a good Shabbos!
_
No matter how many times you read something, each time you see it in a different light. I find that every time I read the parsha something different jumps out at me. Here are a couple of my observations from reading the parsha this week:
Sometimes just ONE word changes how you read a story. So I was reading the parsha and get up to the part where the Shvatim of Reuven and Gad approach Moshe and ask, "Hi, so if it's OK with you, can we just stay here instead of crossing over to the other side of the Jordan river?" At this point in my head I was thinking, "No! Why would you want to not go into Eretz Yisrael? Hashem told you the land is holy, and you are so close. Don't you want Kedusha? You haven't even seen Israel yet. How do you know this land is better for your cattle?" That would have been my first response. I was also thinking about how, given last week's parsha, this request must have been so painful for Moshe. He wanted so badly to go into Eretz Yisrael, and here Reuven and Gad are saying, "Yeah, we can go in, and you can't, but we don't want to. Can we just stay here?" Anyone besides the great Moshe Rabeinu might have said, "Hello? You are so lucky to be able to go into Israel. Why are you giving that up? How can you even ask me that you don't want to live in Eretz Yisrael proper?"
But Moshe's reply begins with just one word that gets to the core of the issue. And that word is אחיכם (or האחיכם to be more precise). Moshe responds: Let's put everything aside for a minute. Forget me and my personal situation of not being able to go into Eretz Yisrael. Forget about the fact that Eretz Yisrael is kadosh. Let's focus on your brothers. What about the rest of B'nei Yisrael? They need your help to fight and conquer Eretz Yisrael. You can't just leave them like this. Plus if you don't go to war with them they are going to get really discouraged and it is going to be another Miraglim situation all over again. I've already been there and done that with the whole "Well, we don't know if we like Eretz Yisrael" stuff which then sends everyone into a panic. Not happening again.
So they agree to go to war with the rest of B'nei Yisrael, but they still don't fully get it and mention their animals, before their children, as a reason to settle on the other side of the Jordan. And what is really shocking, is that Moshe agrees. I mean, there are so many times in Judaism where someone says, "Hey, can I do this?" and the answer is "No." For some reason, Reuven and Gad are granted their request, with Moshe adding that their receiving that land is conditional on their going to war, and also with Moshe adding some of Menasheh to go with them. What a lesson to be learned from this parsha. What is the priority? Consider your brothers, your nation. Think about others first.
Have a good Shabbos!
_
Friday, July 15, 2011
QPT: Parshat Pinchas
Quick Parsha Thoughts: Parshat Pinchas
No matter how many times you read something, each time you see it in a different light. I find that every time I read the parsha something different jumps out at me. Here are a couple of my observations from reading the parsha this week:
From my little experience in the working world, it seems that there are two ways that people react to being let go or fired. The first is an approach of indignation. Understandably so, they are upset and angry about being kicked out against their will, and this emotion is so strong that they refuse to train the next person who needs the information they have. "Why should I help the company?" is their attitude. They do their best to make their departure difficult for those who still have their jobs. In extreme cases they will even try to purposefully hide useful information that only they have, that the company needs. Their fury motivates them to do their best to try to ensure that the company regrets letting them go or firing them as much as possible.
Others take a different approach. No one is happy to lose their job, but some value their job and the work that they do more than their own pride. This is always inspiring to see. Despite their personal hurt at rejection, they do their best to make sure that the important work that they do will go on after them. They are happy to train the next person who will take over their responsibilities and they make sure that things will continue to run smoothly after they leave. It's not all about them, it's about a job that needs to get done, even if they are not the one to do it.
Having seen these two approaches, the section of the parsha that jumped out at me (despite the fact that there is *so* much going on in this parsha, with Pinchas, B'not Tzlafchad, the Karban Tamid etc.) was the scene where Hashem tells Moshe to go up on the mountain to see Eretz Yisrael and prepare to die. Given the great level of Moseh Rabeinu, it is no surprise to see that Moshe of course falls into the second category. Moshe's reaction is immediately to ask Hashem to pick someone else to lead the Jewish people after him. Of course Moshe wanted to go into Eretz Yisrael so badly, and it must have been very difficult for him, but he put that aside and wanted to make sure that the Jewish people had a leader, no matter what.
What is interesting is the language that Moshe uses when he asks Hashem to pick another leader. He says: יפקד ה' אלוקי הרוחות לכל בשר איש על העדה (Bamidbar 27: 16). When I read this posuk I thought this was unusual language and wondered why Moshe addressed Hashem using this particular name here. Well Rashi clears that up with a fascinating insight as to what Moshe was looking for in a future leader of the Jewish People. By using the term "אלוקי הרוחות לכל בשר ," Moshe was referring to the fact that Hashem understands every person and knows that each individual person is unique with their own personality. There are a lot of interesting characters in the Jewish people. Moshe was asking Hashem for someone with the quality of being able to deal with all different types of people.
This really struck me because I see this today so much as a necessary quality of our leaders today. There are so many types of people, so many different interests and each person has different priorities, and a leader must be able to get along with each person.
Have a good Shabbos!
_
No matter how many times you read something, each time you see it in a different light. I find that every time I read the parsha something different jumps out at me. Here are a couple of my observations from reading the parsha this week:
From my little experience in the working world, it seems that there are two ways that people react to being let go or fired. The first is an approach of indignation. Understandably so, they are upset and angry about being kicked out against their will, and this emotion is so strong that they refuse to train the next person who needs the information they have. "Why should I help the company?" is their attitude. They do their best to make their departure difficult for those who still have their jobs. In extreme cases they will even try to purposefully hide useful information that only they have, that the company needs. Their fury motivates them to do their best to try to ensure that the company regrets letting them go or firing them as much as possible.
Others take a different approach. No one is happy to lose their job, but some value their job and the work that they do more than their own pride. This is always inspiring to see. Despite their personal hurt at rejection, they do their best to make sure that the important work that they do will go on after them. They are happy to train the next person who will take over their responsibilities and they make sure that things will continue to run smoothly after they leave. It's not all about them, it's about a job that needs to get done, even if they are not the one to do it.
Having seen these two approaches, the section of the parsha that jumped out at me (despite the fact that there is *so* much going on in this parsha, with Pinchas, B'not Tzlafchad, the Karban Tamid etc.) was the scene where Hashem tells Moshe to go up on the mountain to see Eretz Yisrael and prepare to die. Given the great level of Moseh Rabeinu, it is no surprise to see that Moshe of course falls into the second category. Moshe's reaction is immediately to ask Hashem to pick someone else to lead the Jewish people after him. Of course Moshe wanted to go into Eretz Yisrael so badly, and it must have been very difficult for him, but he put that aside and wanted to make sure that the Jewish people had a leader, no matter what.
What is interesting is the language that Moshe uses when he asks Hashem to pick another leader. He says: יפקד ה' אלוקי הרוחות לכל בשר איש על העדה (Bamidbar 27: 16). When I read this posuk I thought this was unusual language and wondered why Moshe addressed Hashem using this particular name here. Well Rashi clears that up with a fascinating insight as to what Moshe was looking for in a future leader of the Jewish People. By using the term "אלוקי הרוחות לכל בשר ," Moshe was referring to the fact that Hashem understands every person and knows that each individual person is unique with their own personality. There are a lot of interesting characters in the Jewish people. Moshe was asking Hashem for someone with the quality of being able to deal with all different types of people.
This really struck me because I see this today so much as a necessary quality of our leaders today. There are so many types of people, so many different interests and each person has different priorities, and a leader must be able to get along with each person.
Have a good Shabbos!
_
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Beautiful Song
Some songs have a great tune. I may not like the singer's voice or the words, but the tune is nice. Other songs have great words, but a terrible tune. And there are some singers who could be singing a song with terrible words and a terrible tune and still come out sounding amazing.
The song below is a song that has all three factors: Great words, a beautiful tune, and the kid who sings it has an incredible voice. It's one of those songs I could listen to over and over.
The words are from a Tefillah that is said when putting on a Tallis (since I obviously do not wear a Tallis, I had to look up the source of the words, so correct me if I am wrong.) I do not know the origin of the song, who originally composed the tune, so if anyone knows, please let me know.
_
The song below is a song that has all three factors: Great words, a beautiful tune, and the kid who sings it has an incredible voice. It's one of those songs I could listen to over and over.
The words are from a Tefillah that is said when putting on a Tallis (since I obviously do not wear a Tallis, I had to look up the source of the words, so correct me if I am wrong.) I do not know the origin of the song, who originally composed the tune, so if anyone knows, please let me know.
_
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Purpose
Do you ever think about your purpose in life? Well, I think about it all the time. I can’t help it, I just do. Wondering what I’m supposed to do. When I was a kid I just kind of figured I’d grow up to be awesome and extraordinary and I would do something so amazing that I would be famous and the entire world would know who I am, and I’d be one of those people you learn about in school. I knew I was awesome, and even though no one else knew that, one day the world would figure it out. I was a hopeful idealistic kid, and still am that way mostly. But then one day I realized: I am not extraordinary. I am just ordinary.
I knew that would happen one day, I always used to hear about how you grow up and you’re your idealism. You forget about all the dreams you had when you were a kid and settle for being boring. But I thought that doesn’t happen until your thirties or forties when you find yourself stuck sitting at a desk job all day and you have a midlife crisis. But in any event, I realized that I am plain old ordinary. Maybe that is an excuse I tell myself, a way out of having to put in all the effort and all the hard work that it takes to be great, but the truth is that even if I have the potential to be extraordinary, I am not there yet. I always dreamed of changing the world, and I will probably always hold on to that dream, but it seems far off in the distance, and so untouchable. How will I ever get there?
Some days I feel lost, like I am never going to find my direction and unique path in life. The way for me to make my small, tiny mark on the world. Not because there is no one to point me in the right direction, but because it seems each path has a big huge sign in front of it that stares me in the eyes which says, “Nope, not this one. Try again.” No way seems to be the right way for me. Where do I go? Where do I fit in in this big world? I hope that when I die G-d doesn’t look at my life and point into the moment in time when He created me and say, “Well, that was pointless. You missed what you were supposed to do.”
Sometimes I look at myself and all I see are my faults, my weaknesses, the areas where I am lacking, or where others are so much better than I am. The areas that I wish I excelled in, but let's face it: I don't. What in the world can I do that no one else in the entire world can do? I lose sight of who I am. It reminds me about a lecture that I listened to by a woman who was homeless for about a year, and she started off the lecture by saying “I am a journalist.” She explained how when she was homeless she just became this homeless person and lost that part of her identity. She was always the same person, but how she thought of herself was different. Maybe I’m ordinary, but somewhere buried deep inside I can be extraordinary. Yes, I have weaknesses, but I have strengths, too.
People always ask these questions like "what is your goal in life" or "what is your purpose" or "what do you hope to accomplish," but those questions seem to imply that there is just one goal or purpose, and you just have to get there. That's how I always thought it was. I just needed to find the place I wanted to get to, and then get there. As though there is this one spot that you need to get to, and then you're done. I once listened to a great shiur by Charlie Harary (related to Purim) where he says that each day of your life is part of that purpose. It’s not this one big thing that you get to one day. Every single day is a little tiny piece of it. Every day is important.
Most people are ordinary. For most of us, our purpose is not something big like curing a disease, ending slavery, creating a new invention, or being the first one on the moon. But there are people who have a huge influence on their own small world- on their community, on their family, on their friends, and to those people, they are extraordinary. And that is what I strive to be. G-d gave us life to be extraordinary in our own small way, even if the entire world doesn’t recognize our accomplishments. Extraordinary means finding meaning in every single day, and every single moment. It means that what I accomplished today, however small, is important.
I am probably never going to be famous, and that is quite alright with me. I think that’s a dream I’m ready to give up. But I am never going to give up on my dream of being extraordinary.
_
I knew that would happen one day, I always used to hear about how you grow up and you’re your idealism. You forget about all the dreams you had when you were a kid and settle for being boring. But I thought that doesn’t happen until your thirties or forties when you find yourself stuck sitting at a desk job all day and you have a midlife crisis. But in any event, I realized that I am plain old ordinary. Maybe that is an excuse I tell myself, a way out of having to put in all the effort and all the hard work that it takes to be great, but the truth is that even if I have the potential to be extraordinary, I am not there yet. I always dreamed of changing the world, and I will probably always hold on to that dream, but it seems far off in the distance, and so untouchable. How will I ever get there?
Some days I feel lost, like I am never going to find my direction and unique path in life. The way for me to make my small, tiny mark on the world. Not because there is no one to point me in the right direction, but because it seems each path has a big huge sign in front of it that stares me in the eyes which says, “Nope, not this one. Try again.” No way seems to be the right way for me. Where do I go? Where do I fit in in this big world? I hope that when I die G-d doesn’t look at my life and point into the moment in time when He created me and say, “Well, that was pointless. You missed what you were supposed to do.”
Sometimes I look at myself and all I see are my faults, my weaknesses, the areas where I am lacking, or where others are so much better than I am. The areas that I wish I excelled in, but let's face it: I don't. What in the world can I do that no one else in the entire world can do? I lose sight of who I am. It reminds me about a lecture that I listened to by a woman who was homeless for about a year, and she started off the lecture by saying “I am a journalist.” She explained how when she was homeless she just became this homeless person and lost that part of her identity. She was always the same person, but how she thought of herself was different. Maybe I’m ordinary, but somewhere buried deep inside I can be extraordinary. Yes, I have weaknesses, but I have strengths, too.
People always ask these questions like "what is your goal in life" or "what is your purpose" or "what do you hope to accomplish," but those questions seem to imply that there is just one goal or purpose, and you just have to get there. That's how I always thought it was. I just needed to find the place I wanted to get to, and then get there. As though there is this one spot that you need to get to, and then you're done. I once listened to a great shiur by Charlie Harary (related to Purim) where he says that each day of your life is part of that purpose. It’s not this one big thing that you get to one day. Every single day is a little tiny piece of it. Every day is important.
Most people are ordinary. For most of us, our purpose is not something big like curing a disease, ending slavery, creating a new invention, or being the first one on the moon. But there are people who have a huge influence on their own small world- on their community, on their family, on their friends, and to those people, they are extraordinary. And that is what I strive to be. G-d gave us life to be extraordinary in our own small way, even if the entire world doesn’t recognize our accomplishments. Extraordinary means finding meaning in every single day, and every single moment. It means that what I accomplished today, however small, is important.
I am probably never going to be famous, and that is quite alright with me. I think that’s a dream I’m ready to give up. But I am never going to give up on my dream of being extraordinary.
_
Friday, July 8, 2011
QPT: Parshat Balak
Quick Parsha Thoughts: Parshat Balak
No matter how many times you read something, each time you see it in a different light. I find that every time I read the parsha something different jumps out at me. Here are a couple of my observations from reading the parsha this week:
• I always thought that at the beginning of the story, Bilaam always seems like a good guy- he says that he can only do what Hashem wanted him to do, and Chazal have to tell us not to be fooled by that. This time when I read the story it seemed more like he was saying to Balak’s messengers, “I’m sorry, guys, I can only do what G-d tells me to do. But I really WANT to curse them! So not fair.” He tells Balak’s messengers the second time that even if they gave him gold and silver he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t even if he wanted to, but he does want to, and he seems frustrated by the fact that he can’t.
• What really fascinated me was the scene where the donkey asks Bilaam why he hit him three times. Now, what I would expect Bilaam to say (aside from, “What?? You can talk?”) is, “Well, you didn’t move, and I wanted you to move so I hit you.” But that is not what he says at all. Bilaam says, “Because you mocked me! If I had a sword I would kill you.” Why was Bilaam really mad? I always thought he was mad that the donkey wasn’t listening to him and wasn’t responding to him. Clearly that was part of it, but, as Rashi explains, Bilaam was embarrassed because Balak’s messengers were there watching him, and he felt they were laughing at him because he was being recruited to curse an entire nation, but he couldn’t even get his own donkey to move. We are so concerned about what other people think of us, I never realized that Bilaam was motivated by what other people thought of him, as opposed to being annoyed that the donkey wasn't listening to him. Interesting.
• Also thought it was interesting how many times B’nei Yisrael are referred to as “Yaakov.” For those who know any tune to the song “Al Tirah Avdi Yaakov” (I personally recommend D’veykus’s version of it), a lot of the words from that song are found in this week’s parsha. Why are B’nei Yisrael referred to as Yaakov so many times? Anyone know?
• Lastly, for some reason I always thought the line “Ma Tovu” appeared much earlier in all of the things that Bilaam says. Not sure why that was.
Have a good shabbos!
_
No matter how many times you read something, each time you see it in a different light. I find that every time I read the parsha something different jumps out at me. Here are a couple of my observations from reading the parsha this week:
• I always thought that at the beginning of the story, Bilaam always seems like a good guy- he says that he can only do what Hashem wanted him to do, and Chazal have to tell us not to be fooled by that. This time when I read the story it seemed more like he was saying to Balak’s messengers, “I’m sorry, guys, I can only do what G-d tells me to do. But I really WANT to curse them! So not fair.” He tells Balak’s messengers the second time that even if they gave him gold and silver he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t even if he wanted to, but he does want to, and he seems frustrated by the fact that he can’t.
• What really fascinated me was the scene where the donkey asks Bilaam why he hit him three times. Now, what I would expect Bilaam to say (aside from, “What?? You can talk?”) is, “Well, you didn’t move, and I wanted you to move so I hit you.” But that is not what he says at all. Bilaam says, “Because you mocked me! If I had a sword I would kill you.” Why was Bilaam really mad? I always thought he was mad that the donkey wasn’t listening to him and wasn’t responding to him. Clearly that was part of it, but, as Rashi explains, Bilaam was embarrassed because Balak’s messengers were there watching him, and he felt they were laughing at him because he was being recruited to curse an entire nation, but he couldn’t even get his own donkey to move. We are so concerned about what other people think of us, I never realized that Bilaam was motivated by what other people thought of him, as opposed to being annoyed that the donkey wasn't listening to him. Interesting.
• Also thought it was interesting how many times B’nei Yisrael are referred to as “Yaakov.” For those who know any tune to the song “Al Tirah Avdi Yaakov” (I personally recommend D’veykus’s version of it), a lot of the words from that song are found in this week’s parsha. Why are B’nei Yisrael referred to as Yaakov so many times? Anyone know?
• Lastly, for some reason I always thought the line “Ma Tovu” appeared much earlier in all of the things that Bilaam says. Not sure why that was.
Have a good shabbos!
_
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Judged
Judge me
Put me in a box
And don’t let me out of it
Stifled, stuck, unable to break free
If I say something or do something
That does not fit your perception of me
I am met with questions
Why are you doing that
Why are you saying that
Why are you wearing that
That is not how you have behaved in the past
Wow, so frum, so shtark today
Wow, what happened to you,
I thought you were more frum than that.
That is so not you
Do you know me better than I know myself?
Don’t you know that each day
Is a chance for me to be someone new?
I don’t have to be who I was yesterday
Don’t act so surprised that I don’t fit that box
Today is a new chance to act differently than I have in the past
Perhaps in the past I resisted temptation
And today I have given in
I no longer fit the box you have placed me in
Perhaps I usually give in to sin
But today I break free and hold strong
I no longer fit the box you have placed me in
You think you know me
So anything that does not fit that perception
Shocks you
Perhaps you should keep that thought to yourself
Instead of telling me to go back to that box where I belong
I don’t belong in a box.
_
Put me in a box
And don’t let me out of it
Stifled, stuck, unable to break free
If I say something or do something
That does not fit your perception of me
I am met with questions
Why are you doing that
Why are you saying that
Why are you wearing that
That is not how you have behaved in the past
Wow, so frum, so shtark today
Wow, what happened to you,
I thought you were more frum than that.
That is so not you
Do you know me better than I know myself?
Don’t you know that each day
Is a chance for me to be someone new?
I don’t have to be who I was yesterday
Don’t act so surprised that I don’t fit that box
Today is a new chance to act differently than I have in the past
Perhaps in the past I resisted temptation
And today I have given in
I no longer fit the box you have placed me in
Perhaps I usually give in to sin
But today I break free and hold strong
I no longer fit the box you have placed me in
You think you know me
So anything that does not fit that perception
Shocks you
Perhaps you should keep that thought to yourself
Instead of telling me to go back to that box where I belong
I don’t belong in a box.
_
Monday, July 4, 2011
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.
_
Monday, June 27, 2011
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?
_
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?
_
Sunday, June 19, 2011
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.
_
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.
_
Friday, June 17, 2011
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!
_
Wishing you all a Good Shabbos/ Shabbat Shalom!
_
Monday, June 6, 2011
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!
______
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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Friday, June 3, 2011
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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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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