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.

Single Lane Ahead

Being single during yuntif isn't the greatest feeling in the world. It drives home the fact that we're not meant to be like this.

Rephrase, Yiddishkeit is about family. (It goes without saying that if this is where I am right now in life, this is where G-d wants me to be. As long as I didn't mess things up through my own free will –– bigger topic outside the scope of this post.)

It feels so crowded, yet so empty. So overwhelming, so much noise, but so so lonely. So many cute nieces and nephews, too many siblings, siblings in-law, and just one person missing. The space doesn't really stretch to make room for everyone, all the different personalities. Even if we can mostly get along now that we've all grown up a bit. I too need someone to take up for me, have my back, sit next to and talk to when everyone else is involved with their own nuclear families.

I'm not the hired help. Just because I don't have a husband and kids to look after, I'm busy too. I should be on vacation too. In fact, while they're off galavanting on this Chol HaMoed trip or that, I'm going to work every day, working my normal hectic schedule. Yes, Baruch Hashem for that. Some normalcy in my life. A place I feel productive and normal, not like an outcast and a pitied anomaly.

Despite them not trying to rub it in my face, it happens inevitably. It's the nature of the beast. 

Read some of the discussion here that further fleshes out this point.

Chag sameach.

Yearning for Freedom

Zman Chaeruseinu. Freedom.

Hallel, Nirtza. Praise, song.

What to sing for?

What freedom?

Salvation from Mitzrayim?

How, when life feels so bitter, so narrow?

Echad M'yodeia? We know numbers. Numbers of months, years we've been playing this game. Numbers of guys/girls that we've met, that have entered and left our respective lives. Numbers of heartbreaks. Numbers of days, months we've waited to hear from someone with a "yes," go on a date.

Sefirah. Counting. Counting down the days until this will all make sense, this will all be worth it.

Leil HaSeder, Leil Shemurim. A special night of protection. Hashem tells us that He's close. We need to let Him do what He does.

Shackled, but free. Stuck, but looking forward.

Pesach is a time of slavery and freedom. They coexist. Bitterness and hope mingle together. 

Salty and sweet. Hardship and triumph. Heartbreak and hope. Slavery and miracles.

Aching lonely heart. Beating living heart.

Living With Emunah

R' Daniel Glatstein references the pasuk, "Veyadata ki Ani Hashem (YKVK)" ("And you will know that I am Hashem"). He points out that there are the same amount of words in the Haggadah as the amount times YKVK is written in the Torah. He explains that this is the whole purpose of the Haggadah, of Pesach, to know "Ki Ani Hashem." This is Emunah.

Emunah is the main inyan of the Seder –– asking questions that we don’t answers to, because it's about asking, wanting to know, seeking. We do many things at the Seder "so that the children should ask," and then, when they finally ask, there is no clear answer (ie. we don't really answer the Four Questions/Ma Nishtana)! It's really just about the asking. 

The mitzvah of Pesach is "V'Hegadita l'vincha" ("Tell it to your children"), because children are natural seekers. Adults need to be reminded that they have to seek, they have to want. This is the purpose of doing all these things at the Seder 'so that the children should ask;' it's about questioning. 

Emunah comes to people who want it. The more you make G-d part of your life, the more the bekush (seeking), the more Emunah you'll uncover within you. You have to really want.

A lot of us are stuck in the simple level of Emunah. We don't realize that Emunah is not something out there to figure out, it's something inside. We need to unleash it, we need to be a m’vakesh (seeker). Daven for it. Ask G-d to help you uncover it. It is about knowing that G-d exists in everything, not as a solution, but just that He’s here with us.

In whatever challenge it's so easy to forget about Hashem. Sure, we daven to Him every day. We keep him in mind often. However, it's easy to forget, or perhaps to feel, that He orchestrates everything. Sure, there's hishtadlus we need to do, sometimes our free choice lands us in difficult situations, but at the end of the day if we can hold onto this idea that Hashem knows what is best for us, He feels our pain more than we do ourselves, living is a little bit easier.

Life in Limbo Repost

This deserves a repost. Living and learning, metaphors for life –– how the Pesachdik pre-Pesach days relate to the in between feeling of being single.

Read linked post

And it's a Wrap!

Not to sound sacrilegious or anything, but I'm kind of glad Pesach is over. Done, finito, nigmar. Eight days of family-time is a little bit too much. It's too long to wear that faux smile and be gracious to too many siblings, their spouses, their kids...too many relatives asking what's new and meaning, "So are you seriously dating someone?" Combine that with no carbs (aside from scrumptious matzah and some potato inventions) for a week, and I'm just about ready to call it a wrap, or a pizza, or some other food that contains real flour not eaten at a meal hosting the whole fam. Now everyone can just go back to their happy little lives and leave me to figure out mine.

What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger

When we say "v'damyech chayee," "by your blood you shall live," in the Haggadah, we're referring to the dam of meilah and karbon pesach; however, it struck me that this can also be an endorsement (or rather source) for the popular maxim, "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger."

The Jews went through g'henom in Mitzrayim, but they came out a strong nation, much stronger than when they entered the land. We go through so many hardships in life, but it is these situations that make us into who we are. If we are never challenged, we cannot grow.

Living Life in Limbo

During the days before Pesach, we kind of live in limbo. With the almost Pesach-dik kitchen, no chometz in the house, preparing all we can for the upcoming holiday, we are neither here nor there. We’re doing all this hard work to prepare for what is to come, and it’s at the extent of our here-and-now. The thing is, it’s kind of hard to avoid that. If you don’t toil on erev Shabbos, you can’t eat on Shabbos.


So, most people may feel like this only before Pesach, but this is what my life has become. I’m living in limbo every day. I’m waiting for someone to hire me for a job; I’m waiting to find my bashert and start a new life with him. The only difference with my limbo and the limbo before Pesach, is that with Pesach, we know when it will arrive. We can make a schedule based on what we have to do before it gets here so we’re ready when it’s here. Also, the limbo stage is not indefinite. It does not become the question of, “Is this what my life is destined to be?” While of course I question when I will find a job and when I will meet my husband, I know when Pesach will come, so I don’t find myself asking if Pesach will come.


Living in limbo is difficult for a lot of reasons. Most people don’t understand what my life is like. It’s always the “It will come; be patient,” comment. I guess people don’t know what else to say, and it’s true, I’m sure it will come. However, you still need to eat the week before Pesach even though your kitchen and house are in the “not quite Pesach-dik but no chometz allowed” phase. I still need to feel productive even though I’m waiting on life-altering events. It’s hard to wait, especially when I feel so stuck.