Don't Do Unto Others

A flight attendant was serving a respected rabbi on a plane. Recognizing his religious garb she asked him, "What is Judaism? What do Jews believe?"

The rav, without missing a beat, replied, "Don't do onto others what you don't wish to be done to you. That's the foundation of Judaism."

The attendant wanted to know what that had to do with being able to eat or not eat certain things.

"Okay," said the rabbi, "I'm sure you've noticed Jewish travelers checking food packages for a specific symbol, correct?"

"Yes, I have! But what does that have to do with respecting others?"

"Jews are trained not to just eat something because they want to. They don't just say something because they want. They don't just do something because they want to. By checking packages, they're showing it's not about them. They're following a moral code, and they're trained to see the needs of others."

Pesach we check packages. Sefirah, we work on seeing others. 

(Paraphrased from Mishpacha Magazine's Calligraphy, original article by Yisroel Besser)

I don't usually read Mishpacha, as you may know if you've been with me for awhile. Yet, against my better judgment I read this Pesach's story supplement. Shoot me. I'll even make a plug here for Rikki Ehrlich's "The Exit Interview." IMHO it was quite the worthy read. Everyone should read it. But that's not what this post is about.

It's interesting how sometimes bein adam l'makom is clearer, easier than bein adam l'chaveiro. We work on both during Sefirah, but bein adam l'chaveiro is a special focus. We mourn the deaths of the students of Rabbi Akiva who died because they didn't treat each other with respect. Crazy, almost, if you think about it. How much do we focus on respect of others nowadays? How much do we judge and gossip? How much do we judge and stigmatize?

Also not the point of this post.

Or maybe it is. What freedom do you take from Pesach? Supposedly the chometz represents yetzer hara, which we are free from for the entirety of the Chag. The aveiros we do –– hergel, habit. I'm not sure who this idea is attributed to, but it's interesting for sure.

There is so much pressure in this stage of life. While dating for some is just a passageway from young adulthood to what comes beyond that (in the form of marriage, responsibility, and family), to others it is a stage in it of itself. It's Mitzrayim, it's narrow and constricting. No two people's experiences are the same. While some may have sagas of heartbreaks and "almosts," others may have stories of emptiness for months or years on end.

No judgements. No need to compare. Can we see others as is? Empathy, not pity. Freedom, not slavery.

Happy Counting.

Life Is Full of Goodbyes

Life is full of goodbyes.

So often we connect with people, we leave a part of ourselves with them, only to have to eventually say goodbye. This happens for some people more often than others. Some people connect more deeply or more easily. Life is about being able to leave that bit we give to the other person (or people) behind and keep moving forward.

I was having this conversation with a client a few days ago. She was talking about how it was hard to just let go of her relationships with her ex's family. She had great relationships with them and nothing against them. Whereas she didn't want to see or talk to her ex ever again, she missed his family whom she had been a part of for over ten years. We talked about how in life there are so many people you have to say goodbye to. Sometimes these people have left a piece of themselves with you, sometimes you with them, and sometimes it's both.

This happens in so many ways. Professionally, I face it all the time. I will often wonder how a client is doing long after they aren't a client any longer. They shared so much with me, I saw them through so much, and then they disappear as they go about their lives. It's how it's supposed to be. I'd imagine there are many professions like that. Teaching is similar, especially if it's one-on-one.

We can't always hold onto relationships we have. And we're not meant to. I'm sure I've written about this before, how relationships can be like bridges. They can help us get somewhere, but we don't necessarily need them once we've crossed them. People come into our lives for various reasons. I know I've met people that have enriched my life in so many ways even after they're no longer around.

I've written quite a bit on breakups, but this one post about love and loss comes to mind.

It's not the goodbyes that make us better perhaps, but to paraphrase a line from Romeo and Juliet, parting is always a sweet sorrow. It makes us look toward what is next up for us. Looking forward is always more helpful than looking back. (It is helpful to learn from mistakes, for sure, but that's always for a looking forward purpose.) Looking forward doesn't cheapen the experience we had, but it does let us file it away.

Great Expectations

When I was younger I thought I would get married right away.

Now as I'm writing this I don't exactly know what "right away" actually means. I guess I thought this would be easy. Maybe put in my time, date a few people, but quickly find the right one to build a life with. I know that I thought dating was cool and fun for a few years. I loved (and still do) meeting new people, seeing new places, making connections, etc. But after awhile it got tiresome. It's no longer fun. I want to fast forward to the end of this segment of my story.

I guess I never really had to struggle like this. I've led a blessed life, if you will. If I wanted something, was willing to work for it, I got it, for the most part. That's not to say I haven't had any pain; I've had conflicts, I've had things I needed to work through. Yet, dating has taken it to a whole new level.

Some days I'm angry, some days I'm sad, some days I don't know how to feel. But then I remember, marriage may be a rite of passage, but it isn't a right. I get upset because I feel like I should be married. It's how things are supposed to happen.

What if I changed the narrative? What if I stopped thinking that I need to be married right now and focus on all the other amazing things I can do with my life, that I am doing with my life?

Perhaps if I didn't have younger siblings wanting me to get married already so they can get married guilt-free, or if all my friends weren't married with kids, etc., maybe that would make it easier. Even so, why do we live our lives so focused on everyone else? Our lives, our paths, diverge; no one has the same tafkid or needs the same things. It's so hard to remember this. I have this idea of how things should be, but, really, there are no "shoulds" or "supposed to bes."

Up until this "parsha," my life was sort of this easy cruise. Granted there were some roadblocks, but nothing that some redirecting couldn't get around. This is different. This is like being stuck in inching traffic with multiple crashes and watching the other cars in other lanes speeding by. But I'm not in those other lanes, and I need to make this meaningful. Stop making it "waiting," but "building" in it of itself.

I thought I knew how my life would unfold. I can't tell the future, and however convenient that might be, that would probably take away some of my free choice. It's not how life works. I have learned that expectations lead to disappointment. Thinking things should be a certain way leads to defeat. And so, I will live my life with an open mind and embrace all the opportunities and positive things I do have.

A Freilechen Purim: Purim Repost

Wishing you and yours a Freilechen Purim!

Don't forget to tap into the power of the day... (eis ratzon vs. segulos)

Here's my best Purim torah. It's worth your time, I promise!

Runners, Take Your Mark

"You know the kid who is frantically tying his sneakers by the lockers while his friends have all finished the race? That's what I feel like."

This was an apt description by my friend of her experience in the "Waiting Room" as yet another one of her friends exited with groom in tow.

But a race implies that all runners start at the same point and race down the same trail. Real life is a lot more complex. The Master Trainer allows only one runner per lane and just one lane per runner.

Tie your sneakers and get going. The race is not limited to marriage; the hike starts long before. All of life is a climb, and the Master Planner gives each person his own trajectory to follow.

On my menorah the candles are dancing, flickering, sometimes sputtering, yet always shining their brightest. When today's candles burn out, I know tomorrow will bring additional light. Two candles will follow the one, and then there will be three. Five will follow four, and we will continue counting upwards every day.

We have a rule, "Maalin bakodesh v'ain moridin," matters of holiness are always increased and never decreased. If I have lit one candle today, tomorrow I will strive for more.

I greatly admire my friends' investments, toil, and accomplishments in their homes' harmony and in bringing yet more Yiddishe children into the world. Believe me, I really do. I pray to be doing the same very soon. Yet, while my current checklist may not contain any of that, by no means am I the same person I was two, three, four, or more years ago. If I have grown in so many ways then I am confident that I have come far in the race!

Yes, for now I race on my own. Know though, I do not sit and wait for my situation to change so I can "catch up" with my friends. I do not stagnate along the way. Instead, I continue walking. Maalin bakodesh v'ain moridin. With hope in my heart and a constant prayer on my lips, I keep hiking onwards towards the sunshine."

(Edited and Abbreviated, Original by Z. Goldheim published in December 20 Hamodia Inyan Magazine)

My sister was reading this article, and she handed me the magazine and urged me to read it. "You'll like it," she said. I stopped regularly reading frum magazines quite awhile ago, as I got annoyed how they often sensationalize issues to sell their publication. Every so often someone will hand me an article or story to read though.

I loved this idea. The race analogy isn't new, but the way its written about here, combined with the maalin bakodesh concept, hits the idea home. It's so true. There isn't just one way to be productive in this world. We don't just start our lives after we get married and raise a family.

What's in your training regimen today?

Waiting For My Bus Revisited

Waiting for my bus.

Today we have Google Maps, Moovit, Autobus Karov, and a myriad of other apps that will tell you which bus to take to get where you want to go and when to expect its arrival. There's a sign too next to most bus stops with a screen constantly updating each bus's eta.

Does it really help?

I mean, maybe it makes you feel better. Maybe it lets you feel like you're doing some hishtadlus by making sure you get to the right stop when the bus is scheduled. But does it make your bus come quicker or give you any real advantage? Honestly, you can get really lost even with a navigation app running, especially if it's walking directions...

We have profile databases, whatsapp shidduch chats, singles events, etc. Do these things really help us in any significant way? I mean, we're still at the mercy of G-d and when He wants us to find the right one. Perhaps it's hishtadlus. Perhaps it makes us feel like we're doing something more to make our bus arrive more promptly.

Me, I do sometimes still wonder where my bus is and what is taking so long. And, to quote myself, it is at these times that I remind myself that “no bus” or “wrong bus” does not mean my bus is not far behind, no matter what the transit app or bus stop screen is telling me.

Perspective

There's a flip side to every personality trait. What keeps life exciting and fun, what makes people want to spend time with you, can also be what kills you. For me, passion and truth seeking can often become drama apparently.

That part's not super important. It's more about the lesson here.

It's almost easier when you can't trace something back to someone. When it's not someone engaging in really hurtful behavior towards you, it's easier to realize it's from Hashem. It's a lot harder when there's a person behind the incident who is being super insensitive. It seems to hurt a lot more when there are people on the line for making a decision to engage in an action that hurts you. It hurts even more when they excuse their behavior or try to put it on someone else. It even sucks when they can admit they were wrong but won't do anything to rectify the situation because then they lose out. It hurts when they can't see beyond themselves.

If I work to put things in perspective I can see that I only need to realize my tafkid in this world is to be the best me. I need to find my way in the darkness regardless of whatever sucky situation I find myself in. I can be the bigger person and not make someone else suffer on principle just because they made me suffer or even ask them to do something that would make things annoying for them even if it would partially fix the situation.

Just like I can clearly see that I'm not married right now because G-d doesn't want me to be, this situation happened because G-d wanted it to be like this. It doesn't take the people behind it off the hook. No way. But G-d takes care of that. I don't have to exact judgement. I don't have to put myself in the position to get hurt by these individuals again either though.

Chanukah brings with it so many lessons. The smallest light can chase away so much darkness. You can be crushed like an olive, but it's only to bring out your best.

I know it would be so much easier to stay mad at these people and feel a lot better to make them "pay" for what happened, but honestly it's not worth it. I don't know why G-d put me in this situation. I don't know what G-d wants from me specifically. I do know that I can swallow my kavod, swallow my anger and pain and sense of injustice, and I can move on. I can let this be another learning experience about trust and self reliance. I can only work on me, and everyone else needs to work on themselves. Regardless of what I say or do, I can't fix them.

Only In Israel

Coming into the country, the guy at passport control wants to know why I'm visiting. After we get that squared away, he wishes me a "Yom naim and shidduch tov."

Only. In. Israel.

Last time I was in Israel I started keeping a list of things that were uniquely Israel. I'll share them here in a sec, because, why not? But the aforementioned incident took it to a whole new level. More on that in a moment.


Uniquely Israel...

The way the traffic light turns yellow before it turns green.
The way the tender driver gets around traffic by driving on the shoulder.
The girl davening mincha at the bus stop.
The yeshiva guy walking around in a suit jacket, black hat...and a backpack.
The way the sun sets so quickly.
Froop.
Can you take public transportation to almost anywhere.
Everyone's always davening.
Are there so many people living in the middle of construction.
Does it feel like home even when you haven't been to visit in a long time.
Do you see men riding motorbikes with their tzitzis flapping in the wind.
Does a young kid with ripped pants come over to you and say, "Money ani ohev, yesh la?"
Do women walk around with their cellphone held to their ear by tucking it in their snood.
Do you have so many smoking cabins in the airport.
How little children can buy alcohol so freely.
The way it's never really a surprise to bump into someone you haven't seen in ages.
The way everything is decorated for the current Jewish holiday.
The way everyone feels like they can ask you whatever they want.
Do people park on the highway to daven mincha because they're stuck in traffic coming back from a levaya.
Does security at the airport ask so many inane questions they don't care about the answers to but just want to see if you're lying.

Fun times.

Back to the guy at passport control. It was sort of like the woman I met at Kever Rochel. I had finished davening and was walking out. She came over to me and started telling me that she works in shidduchim and can I send her my shidduch details. She started asking me what yeshivos I date when I told her that I live in the states. "Oh, so, you're not listening to suggestions from Israel?" When I confirmed that I'm not looking to marry an Israeli, she told me regretfully that she can't help me, but she wished me well.

They're all trying to be nice, I know. I mean, I had a few people tell me I should extend my ticket so I could date the suggestions they had for me. Hmm. They care; it's sweet. They don't know me, but they want the best for me. We're all brothers. There's less of a concept of personal space. It's a cultural thing. Sometimes it's annoying, but it's also beautiful.

I made lots of friends on this trip. I had so many interesting conversations with everyone who spoke my language, and a few people who did not. I could complain about how everyone was in my business, but I think that would be shortsighted. I don't need everyone trying to set me up with whichever random person they know, nor do I need well wishes from every random person. It is nice though when I realize that everyone feels connected, and we're all in this together.

The Waiting Place

Airports are a perfect example of Dr. Suess's (Oh The Places You'll Go) "Waiting Place." So much tumult. So many people coming and going. So easy to watch them all, wondering, just wondering, where everyone is off to. Everyone's getting on planes and flying to destinations. They're all rushing through the airport with somewhere to go.

Why do I continue to sit here and search for my gate?

Sometimes there are great duty free stores along the way that hold my attention, make the waiting more manageable. Sometimes there are interesting people to talk to. Sometimes there are fellow travelers also waiting for their plane who can relate and commiserate.

It's easy to get caught up in the waiting. But does it have to be waiting? Maybe it's about enjoying the journey, and the time spent at the gate is part of it. Maybe every person, all my fellow travelers, I meet along the way teach me something in some way.

Maybe I don't have to think about it as waiting, but part of the experience. It's not just about getting to my destination, it's about every step along the way.

How Traversing Shidduchim is Like Traveling on Thanksgiving Weekend

We got in the car, and the navigation told us it would take a few hours to get home. As we kept getting updates that traffic was building up ahead and our ETA kept getting later and later, we followed detour after detour and couldn't help feeling like we were going totally and completely out of our way and that we would never get home. Day turned into night. The cars in front of us crawled. We left that major highway and took that tiny side street only to encounter the same sea of brake lights.

We knew we were going to get home eventually, but we didn't know when. After each new time update, we sighed and someone cracked another joke about the traffic. We made up another song parody about traveling to pass the time. We called a friend, texted another, tried to keep spirits up.

We still knew we would get home eventually. How long it would take, we did not know. How much we would have to travel out of the way, we did not know. Where we were and how crossing that random bridge we'd never heard of before would help us get there, we did not know.

But we trusted that Waze and Google Maps knew what they were doing. (Kal v'chomer G-d, right?)

Rubbernecking, so not helpful. Watching what other people go through, for good or for bad, when you cannot help them, only slows you down. If we all stopped worrying about how fast other people are driving or what they're doing on the side of the road, we could focus better on what is going on in our cars, get where we're going faster.

Getting annoyed at the traffic is not helpful either. It doesn't help you get anywhere faster. Keeping yourself busy along the way, making sure your car has enough gas to get where you're going, knowing when you might need to ask the driver to make a stop or ask someone else to drive for a bit...are all important.

Still waiting for my "you have arrived at your destination" ...

Parshas Vayeira

(The Segulah of Learning Zera Shimshon)

What do the words "Atah yadaati ki yarei elokim ata (v'lo chashachta es bincha yechidecha memeni)" mean? Why only now, at the time of the Akeida, does Hashem know that Avraham Aveinu (A"A) is a G-d fearing individual?

A"A personified chesed; he was such a giving person that people may have thought that this was just his personality –– he pleased Hashem and did what He asked because he liked pleasing people. If this was the case then Avraham passing the ten nisyonos would have nothing to do with him being a G-d fearing person. 

Akeidas Yitzchak, an act of pure cruelty, went against everything A"A represented; it was the complete opposite of his midda of chesed. Therefore, now Hashem knew that A"A was acting out of pure fear of G-d and desire to serve Him and not just because of his nature.

This should give us pause. Why do we do mitzvos?

Source: Zera Shimshon Parshas Vayeira

Rainy Daze

Watching the rain cascade down the windowpane, the world a little darker, outlines a little blurrier.
Never knowing when the rain will stop, but knowing that it will.
Recognizing that everything needs rain in order to grow.
Reflecting on how the rain softens the earth, leaving it ripe for new growth.
Appreciating how rainy days provide an excuse to seek comfort from the storm.
Giving permission to the rain to wash away all that's unwanted.
Realizing it isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, but making your own sunshine.

Committment Phobia

Planning a Shabbaton, or more accurately a small weekend getaway with a handful of friends, made me realize how commitment-phobic people can be. I get it, life happens; things are going on, and people need to be able to flake. I know I don't like to schedule things for a few months out, because at this stage in the game I'm always secretly hoping that my life is going to be infinitely different in a few months, that there will be someone in my life who I will want to spend all my time with and change all my plans for.

Samuel Decker Thompson said it perfectly, "We are all just a car crash, a diagnosis, an unexpected phone call, a newfound love or broken heart away from becoming a completely different person."

Even so, the Shabbaton I'm working on isn't months out, it's a few days away. Something that everyone, myself included, can work on is realizing that plans can be changed in the event of an emergency or something grandly more important. Even if it costs a little extra money, emotional energy, whatever, not making decisions isn't always safety, you can lose out on so much. Not making a decision is making a decision too.

This is true in relationships, but this is also true with committing to most things. Relationships are probably the quintessential example though. It's about being resistant to change, to not being able to look ahead and make decisions for your future.

If you aren't familiar with Spencer Johnson's Who Moved My Cheese, a parable about how different personalities deal with change, here's a link to a summary video. It's worth the 3 minutes.

Sniff and Scurry find their way to the new cheese (whatever it is that is valuable and your goal in life), while Hem and Haw, well, hem and haw. Haw learns valuable lessons along the way, while we don't know what happens to Hem.

There's so much less on the line committing to, or backing out of, a Shabbaton, than what's at stake when we're talking relationships. Relationship anxiety a lot of the time is rooted in fear of emotional intimacy or stems from previous bad relationship experiences. Not being able to make choices in general can have many other causes. Sometimes it's really just a heavy duty case of FOMO (I'm not kidding). People may not commit to one thing, because they are always wondering what else they may be missing out on. Sometimes people have a hard time with decisions, because they're codependent and they're always trying to figure out what the other person wants and have convinced themselves that they don't have a preference. Sometimes it's much deeper rooted, and the person probably should speak to a professional who can help him/her get to the bottom of it.

With all that said, I'm going to toot my own horn for a moment and say that in the end we rounded up enough people to make the Shabbaton happen (financially worthwhile and all that) and worked out destination/location/property all in just a few days. I should get one of those tshirts that say, "I make things happen. What's your superpower?"

Seriously though, I think the more invested someone is in something, the more s/he can make decisions to make it happen. The less s/he cares about it (even if s/he's lying to himself that s/he really does care...actions not words), the less s/he will take a hard look at why s/he's having a hard time committing.

Love and Loss

For a long time, I had this block against Alfred Lord Tennyson and his quote, "'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." I mean, it's so obvious to me that it's better to have loved and won, right? And, if you have to lose, is it not better to have never played at all, never known what you were missing?

Yesterday I was listening to someone talk about grief and loss. He shared about the profound grief he experienced following the death of a close family member who he regarded as a mentor to him. After that happened he recognized that he closed himself off to close relationships like that one, holding everyone at arms' length, not letting people in, for fear of suffering another heart-wrenching loss. The loss was so intense, because his relationship with this person was that close.

There are myriads of Brene Brown quotes I can insert here, but I'll go with the following from her The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You're Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are:

"Joy is as thorny and sharp as any of the dark emotions. To love someone fiercely, to believe in something with your whole heart, to celebrate a fleeting moment in time, to fully engage in a life that doesn’t come with guarantees—these are risks that involve vulnerability and often pain."

Love costs so much, because it gives so much.

You gotta pay to play, but even if you lose, I'm starting to think it's worth it. Not just because of what is and isn't possible if you open yourself up or close yourself off. The experience itself is enriching. Fostering a close, trusting, loving relationship with someone you care about can change you...even after the person is no longer in your life.

A loss is essentially hard because it means that you've lost a part of yourself that was wrapped up in another person or experience. Grieving means figuring out how to get back to yourself, navigating your new reality, because your life is forever changed. It will never be the same.

Parshas Noach

(The Segulah of Learning Zera Shimshon)

Noach spends 120 years building a teiva while his neighbors watch. It's brought down that he does this as a way to warn people that if they do not repent from their sinful ways that they will be destroyed by a mabul. The Zohar (67b) says that Noach should have davened for the people of his generation not to be destroyed rather than just trying to influence them to repent and/or build a teiva for his own means of survival. Thus, the mabul is called "Mei Noach," as if the destruction of the world is on Noach. [Yeshayahu 54:9 "For this is to Me as the waters of Noach"]

This is similar to when Mordechai, in the times of Purim, comes to Esther and asks her to speak to Achashveirosh on behalf of the Jewish people. While doing so put Esther at risk for her life, Esther could not sit by while the klal was in danger.

The Gemara in Taanis (11a) states that when the klal is suffering one should not comfort himself saying that he is okay, he is comfortable, and that he has enough. One cannot sit idly by while others are in pain. In fact, the Gemara states that if one does this, he will not be included in the relief when it does come to the tzibbur.

How often do we ignore others' needs, be them physical, emotional, spiritual, whatever, stating that we're okay, all is good in our lives...? What more can we do for other people, look outside of ourselves?

Source: Zera Shimshon Parshas Noach

The Segula of Learning Zera Shimshon

Segulos can be controversial, especially when someone places his trust in the segulah rather than Hashem Himself. That's akin to worshipping avodah zara or an intermediary. It's the reason why ads such as "How to Get Married Without Trying (Donate to Our Organization)" and "We Gave Up Hope and Were About to Throw In the Towel Until We Saw This Ad and Decided to Donate, and What Do You Know, We Got A Yeshua," are not only bogus, but a chillel Hashem.

Only Hashem can bring you a yeshua. There is no way to beat the system.

However, I recently started reading R' Nachman Seltzer's book on the Zera Shimshon. He tells over Torah from the Zera Shimshon (his peirush on Chumash) and writes about the powerful segulah that its mechaber, R' Shimshon Chaim Nachmani, promises to all those that learn and disseminate his torah, as well as stories to illustrate the topics, and stories of multiple people who saw yeshuos after they began learning the sefer.

The Zera Shimshon did not have children of his own to pass on this torah, and so he promises that anybody who learns his torah will be zoche to all sorts of yeshuos.

Learning torah in it of itself is a worthwhile pursuit, and since I have nothing to lose, I want to try to learn it as much as I can and share a small bit about the parsha each week, sharing this segulah with you all. Since we just started the Torah from the beginning this past Shabbos, I'll share something brief for Parshas Bereishis here, and at some point during this week I will hopefully share something about this week's parsha, Parshas Noach.

(The source for the Torah I'm sharing is brought down in R' Nachman Seltzer's book and attributed to the Zera Shimshon who often quotes other sources.)


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Parshas Bereishis

The Zera Shimshon asks why if Tehillim (119:160) states that "Rosh d'varcha emes," that "Your first utterance is truth," then why does the Torah start with beis, Bereishis, instead of alef (for 'emes')?

He says that emes is actually hinted to in the next three words of the Torah - "ברא אלוקים את." The last letter of each of those words spell out emes.

The beis of Bereishis, R' Nachmani says, alludes to bracha. And so, when one speaks and acts with emes, he will merit blessing in his life.

In fact, the letters of בראשית can be rearranged into ראש and בית, which point to the pasuk of "Rosh d'varcha emes" and beis for bracha.

The Zera Shimshon extrapolates from this that bracha and emes are intertwined, and if we want bracha we need to conduct our lives with emes.

Your Path to the King's Treasury

You've all heard the mashal, I'm sure, about the guy who gets invited by the king –– an entire day to take whatever he can in 24 hours from the king's treasury. This week Mrs. Shifra Rabenstein, in a shuir about the Aseres Y'mei Teshuva, put her own spin on it. I'll get to her changes in a second. I want to add some of my own too.

Let me remind you of the story first.

The king wants to make the whole day as pleasant as he can for the man, and he sets up the path to the treasury, lining it with every pleasure possible. Every few feet there is some other materialistic thing that catches the guy's attention. A five star restaurant with a maitre d who treats him royally, serving him a seven course meal accompanied by various expensive bottles of wine. A comfortable bed bedecked in the softest linens to sleep off his food and drink. A concert. A sushi bar. A show. A carving station. Whatever, you name it.

As the parable goes, the guy gets so distracted that either he completely misses his window and gets nothing from the treasury that he can take away with him, or he wakes up in the last few seconds and grabs a handful of coins, crying at his missed opportunity.

Mrs. Rabenstein added her own spin. "What if," she said, "What if the guy's friend comes with him and shakes him by the shoulder as he sees him getting distracted.

"Yankel, it's 1pm. You have to get a move on." "What? Oh, okay...just five more minutes, this bed is so comfortable..." "Yankel, it's 3pm! Your time is fading." "Huh? Right, okay...California roll please!"

"What if," Mrs. Rabenstein said, "What if, he not only reminds him, but he shakes him by the shoulders..."

"YANKEL! IT'S FIVE O'CLOCK! YOU ONLY HAVE THREE HOURS LEFT!"

"What if," said Mrs. Rabenstein, "What if we realize that Hashem is shaking us? Reminding us that we only have three hours left? What if Hashem is literally shaking the ground under us? How many hurricanes and earthquakes have there been in the past couple months? How much shaking do we need?!"

I guess my addition to the story would take on something that I heard from the rav of our shul on Rosh Hashana. He was talking about living al kiddush Hashem and how that is harder than dying al kiddush Hashem, how every moment, every choice that we make, is just that. He talked about how perhaps our living al kiddush Hashem is accepting our life circumstances, no matter how uncomfortable they might seem, and realizing that that is not only emunah, but that is living al kiddush Hashem.

What if our path to the king's treasure house isn't strewn with sushi bars and ice cream? What if our path has roadblocks and speed humps? Will we decide to take a different way that potentially leads us nowhere near our destination, just because it feels like we'll never get there if we stay on the path that we're on? Are we following a GPS that has the wrong address plugged in? Are we looking for the route that doesn't have traffic but may take us through all the bad neighborhoods and we won't necessarily ever make it there ever?

Yom Kippur has purifying properties in it of itself. We just need to go through it to get cleansed. Elul, the aseres y'mei teshuva, culminates in Yom Kippur. Yom Kippur climaxes at Neila. Neila peaks with Hashem Hu HaElokim. Hashem Hu HaElokim, and we have a personal relationship with him...He wants to give us from His treasure house. The question of the first Rosh Hashana ever was "Ayeka?!" That question reverberates still today...

Gmar Chasima Tova!

It's All A Game

Sometimes I feel like my life is one long game of Calvinball. 

Make up the rules as you go along. 

No two rules can be the same. 

Adapt. 

Accept rules from each player introduced. 

Try to capture the flag. 

Use any piece of equipment as you see fit to score points. 

Get messy sometimes. 

Feel crazy sometimes. 

Apologize. 

Let people know when you are hurt.

Stand up for yourself.

Maybe dodge bullets.

Maybe listen to other people's advice.

But don't lose your own voice.

Don't overthink trivial things.

Let people in.

Let people out.

Juggle all your balls equally ––

Work, family, health, friends, integrity.

Except work.

Work is a rubber ball that will bounce back up if you drop it.

The others are made of glass.

They will be irrevocably scuffed, nicked, or even shatter.*

Be smart.

Don't burn bridges.

Smile.

Work hard.

Make a difference.

Work towards a goal.

Shrug at idiosyncrasies. 

Color outside the lines.

Agree with your imagination.

If you can dream it, make it happen.

Live on the edge.

Choose with no regret.

Be true to yourself.

Love freely.

Live passionately.

Follow your "what ifs."

Maintain your dignity.

Don't be afraid to change.

Enjoy the journey.

Have the courage to talk about how you feel.

Show up and be seen.

Ask for what you need.

Don't step on other people's toes.

Know when you need to take a time-out.

Take them frequently.

Love yourself.

Let this love spill over to others.

Do your best.

Then do it again.

Never make assumptions.

And don't take things personally.

Own the moment.

Don't get too caught up to enjoy the sunsets.

Never settle.

Always challenge yourself.

Break down barriers.

Dance in the rain.

Sing along to the songs.

Indulge yourself often.

But not too often.

Check every so often that you're headed in the right direction.

Choose your partner wisely.

Help others.

But not if it hurts you.

Laugh.

Learn.

Repeat.

Play nice.

Be the author of your story.

If you get a chance, take it.

Ride the waves.

Keep fighting. 

Don't forget to have fun!

If life is a game...

*Original quote attributed to James Patterson

Music That Speaks to You

Often, music is one of those topics that comes up during a couple's courtship. Someone's familiarity with, or exposure to, secular music and media probably speaks to his/her hashkafos and/or religiosity, but that's a different discussion. (I feel like it's individual and means something different to everyone. Context and all that.)

Recently someone was relating their personal take on secular music and media, and they were saying that why do you want to expose yourself to things that are foreign to your way of living, being, doing –– what you can have or can want. I don't think I have to give examples here, just pay attention to about every song that plays next time you're anywhere.

It's not even a frum thing; it's about setting yourself up for success. You can definitely limit your exposure to only "kosher" things, and that's one way about it. There are other concerns too even within "kosher" ideas and "kosher" lyrics. I'm not going to touch that here though.

As a writer (and romantic) I appreciate good lyrics, ones that are lyrical and poetic, and lyrics that speak to me. Truthfully, I'll often notice how I can relate most song lyrics to something in my life or what I'm thinking or going through anyway, but still, more complex diction seems to speak to me more.

I'm not super musical, but repeating words and repetitive melodies (when there are actual melodies that is) grate on my nerves, and therefore I'm not the biggest fan of Jewish music. There are probably a few tens of good Jewish songs that I can think of off-hand, and when I listen to the same songs over and over, I get sick of them fairly quickly.

I never really felt okay listening to secular music, and more recently I've been pretty successful at this ban. I've been playing random Jewish music playlists on Spotify, and coincidentally leading up to Rosh Hashana I noticed how so many songs are about "Hashem Melech" (and not just the popular Gad Elbaz song).

Jewish music, if you can get past its frequent mediocrity in terms of arrangement, can be beautiful. If you really think about it, Jewish music often takes words of Nach, which are infinitely more gorgeous than today's pop singers' lyrics...if you're really listening.

Shira is a tefillah; song has special power.

I'm starting to notice how Jewish music speaks to me. If I let it.

What lyrics speak to you?

It's Not Yet Time

"Sometimes It's Not Goodbye, Just A Hello Waiting Patiently for Another Time"

~The Better Man Project

I stumbled across "professional life coach, writer, and diehard encourager" Evan Sanders's blog, and I was immediately struck by how raw and genuine his writing is. A particular post, And I Wondered, "Does This Path Have Heart," grabbed me. I read it a few times realizing that I connected with it because I so deeply relate to what he writes, so much so that I could have written it myself. 

He talks about his challenge never having been to successfully love deeply, but it being in the letting go. He writes about how scenes and moments play over and over in his mind in full color and how each instance he feels all those emotions so deeply. 

This isn't another rant why breakups hurt so much (even though they do and I was thinking today about more reasons why breakups are so hard...perhaps I'll share them before this post is over), and if you're looking for practical ways to get over a breakup and/or unrequited love, I direct you to my Loves Me Not post and suggest you track down a copy of the book that inspired the post. I'm not quite sure what this post is about yet, to be honest, but as I'm writing I think it's about timing.

A client of mine this week shared that he was finally in the place career-wise that he was trying to get to for the past five years or so, a place that would have made his previous relationship of four years work that much easier. They're no longer together, and his current relationship doesn't feel the same to him. He just wants to share this success and happiness with someone he feels like cares about it as much as he does, someone who saw him through the hard work and knows what it means to him.

This is one of those reasons (that I mentioned I might write about) why breakups hurt. It's in the sharing your life with someone who genuinely cares about you. Your happiness makes them happy and vice versa. It's just how relationships work; it's in the connectedness. When you lose/don't have this person everything seems so much less vibrant or exciting. Truly, having someone to share your life with halves your troubles and doubles your joys.

Back to the timing thing though. If only my client could have gotten to where he is now a year and a half ago. Maybe it would have saved his relationship. And maybe his relationship just wasn't meant to be. And for the breakups and goodbyes that I'm struggling with now, clearly we're not meant to be right now. It's not yet time.

I need the space, we need the space, to get to where we can have a real chance. Love/like/affection/comfortability does NOT conquer all. I'm learning that everything has a time and place, and as much as patience is not something I'm great at, I'm strengthening it every day. Together with my emunah.