Naaseh V'nishma: Shavuos Repost

A little something about Shavuos I wrote last year here.

Have a good y"t! May it be a meaningful personal Kabalas HaTorah for you and yours and may you accept it with its kessarim.

Kesser (כתר) is a remez to the specific gifts we were given with the Torah. (I don't know the source of this...)

כ- כח ת- תיקונים ר- רצון 

כ-We were given the ability to perform all the mitzvos, an extra koach to stand up to our yetzer hara and be mikayem kol hatorah. 

ת- We were also given the ability for our mitzvos to affect the world and higher worlds! 

ר- Finally, we received the cheshek, the ratzon, to keep the mitzvos. In order to live by all the mitzvos in the Torah we need this undying will. During Matan Torah Hashem placed the deepest desire to fulfill all His commandments into every single Yid's neshama.

Every Shavuos is a reenactment of Matan Torah. It is a chance to revitalize our Yiraas Shamyim and recommit to keeping all the mitzvos. We receive these matanos anew every year...if we want them. R' Matisyahu Solomon says that we can procure these gifts for ourselves by davening with kavanah  and joy and have the special kavanah of collecting these gifts when we say "Ata B'chartanu" and "...Zman Matan Torahseinu."

Chag sameach!

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.

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!

Dancing Round and Round in Circles

Simchas Torah this year was quite the experience.

I'm always struck by how beautiful it is that we're dancing like this for the Torah. The actual tefillos of the hakafos, the lyrics to the tunes we sing, the niggunim, the energy...it's pretty inspiring.

The only thing I can compare it to is a Hachnsas Sefer Torah in Eretz Yisroel where streets are blocked off and there are throngs of people and tons of music and candy. The kavod we give to Torah. The excitement we have for Torah. We forget it when it's not in our faces.

This year, as I was surveying the lebidig scence, it transported me back (as it usually does) to a time when I was child, probably two or three, sitting on my dad's shoulders as he danced round and round on Simchas Torah, pausing to kiss the sifrei torah as we passed someone holding one. Later, when I was too old to be on the men's side, I remember watching my father and my brothers, and perhaps younger siblings, dancing for the Torah.

I was reminded too of the Simchas Torah the year that I was in seminary. Since Simchas Torah is a different day for chutznikim, our Simchas Torah was just chutznikim and very chutzniki. The women, behind a mechitzah of course, were dancing too. I remember feeling a little weird about it, but I got over it pretty quickly and got in on the action.

I wish I could say that I was left with all these positive feelings this yuntif. And maybe I should stop this post here. However, I guess what makes my writing appealing is my candor and thus relate-ability.

Daytime hakafos were pretty hard, I have to say. So many more kids. So many strollers parked haphazardly, no one caring that it was impossible to get by. So many couples younger than me with kids. Mothers with their kids who maybe stayed in shul for kol hanearim, but couldn't stop talking with their children during the entire krias hatorah and mussaf (and this is in a shul where there is usually no talking at all during davening/leining).

I don't think I have to explain why this was hard. Everything that I want to have but don't yet just sort of slapped me in the face. Even just celebrating Torah. It's not my mitzvah to learn. My connection to Torah is different. I want someone with whom I can share this joy in learning, in Torah, through/with. Yes, I know I can learn Torah (and I plan on it), but it isn't the same when I'm not a mutzveh v'oseh. I can't delight the same way in accomplishing during a good seder, a good sugya, whatever.

I just hope I remember to not put myself through that again. I don't think I can handle another Simchas Torah in this shul if I'm still single next year.

Hoshana Rabba: An Eis Ratzon...Repost

Hoshana Rabba is an auspicious time for tefillah. It's one of those times that it's said about that one should wake up early and spend as much time as possible engaged in tefillah.

It's different than a segulah. It's an actual time in which our tefillos are more readily accepted. So while perhaps drinking sheva brachos wine and saying Perek Shira for forty days didn't bring you your zivug, davening on Hashana Rabba is of totally different significance.

Read more about Hoshana Rabba and Eis Ratzon vs. Segulos here.

Is There "Happily Ever After"?

Enjoying an afternoon with extended family –– a rare occurrence since chol hamoed usually falls out on workdays –– everything was going fairly well until 7 year old of married cousin a few years older than me speaks up. The context was a conversation I was having with a random cousin home for yuntif during his third (ish?) year learning in Israel. He was saying I should come visit and hang out since he's not learning during second seder anyway this coming winter zman, as he's studying for his LSATs. I'm not exactly sure how the comment fit in at all, but said 7 year old looked at me with all the seriousness of being 7 years old and having all the answers.

"Why don't you just get married?"

I looked at her, curious, trying to figure out where she was going with that question.

"Because then you'll live happily ever after..."

I think she was trying to say that I won't have to deal with her uncle or take trips or who knows what.

Coming from a 7 year old, the comment didn't really bother me, but it got me thinking. What are we teaching our young children? Why do 7 year olds have concepts of such things? Do we, as a society, perpetuate this?

It's a lot to think about. It's about 7 year olds talking about dating/marriage, but it's also how as if it's the ultimate solution to every problem.

I love this quote from Samara O'Shea, which I talked about here.

While Disney taught us from a young age that happiness exists "over there, in that castle with that person," O'Shea muses, "...that there is only one dragon to slay, someone else will slay it for you, and on the other side of that afternoon kill is nirvana...In reality...there are many dragons to slay...and the only person that can pull the sword from the stone and make the monster beg for mercy is you..."

In the way of just a small example, does being married make in-law yuntif drama less? If anything it adds a whole other dimension. There are challenges in every aspect of life. Although, having someone in your corner who will hopefully take your side and support you in these great discussions and disagreements that can get super emotional and personal when there's lots of family, friends, and other guests that don't necessarily see eye-to-eye, decidedly makes things a little more comfortable.

Joy = Connection Repost

Relationships are work, but connection is joy.

The Yaamim Noraim and Zman Simchaseinu teach us this.

Read about it more here.

Chag sameach!

Tu B'Av: Some Pointers

A quick word on Segulos.

That being said, what is Tu B'Av about? Girls dressed in white, dancing in fields, attracting young men...a shidduch system so unlike our own...

I heard some beautiful thoughts from R' Zvi Weiss tonight about Tu B'Av. He shared that just as 40 days before a child is conceived his bashert is named in shamayim, 40 days before the yetziera of the world (the marriage of Hashem, Torah, and Am Yisroel) on chof hey Elul, the match is announced in Heaven. This day is Tu B'Av. (Do the math!)

Machshava, the plan, is so much more perfect than ma'aseh. ("Sof ma'aseh, v'machshava techila") The plan is always first; it doesn't always come to fruition flawlessly, but it's always first. There's a perfect plan for all of us; Hashem knows what He's doing, and He has our lives all figured out. On Tu B'Av we daven that this plan be carried out in its perfection, because we have the ability to get in our own way. We have the bechira to mess things up. Tu B'Av is the machshava stage, and we pray today that our lives follow this carefully laid plan.

On a slightly different note, during these Tu B'Av celebrations none of the young women wore their own clothes. The gemara says, "Klei lavan shoalin," they borrowed white garments. They wore borrowed dresses to save those people from embarrassment who did not have nice clothes. In fact, said R' Weiss, those who were more affluent borrowed from those who had less money, etc. It was that everyone should be able to feel equal, all wearing each others' clothing.

This is the point of Tu B'Av, to put ourselves in someone else's shoes.

R' Weiss extrapolated this point further to suggest that "lavan" refers too to "leiben," hearts. We share not only our clothing, but a piece of our hearts. We all have pain, but if I can give you a piece of my heart, if I can empathize with you, I can lessen your pain a bit. This, this is the point of Tu B'Av.

On Tu B'Av it is not just about davening for your own shidduch, but davening for your peers. Your pain is my pain. I feel what you're feeling; you're not alone. Reach out, let me know how I can help you...

Shavuos - Making it Personal

I remember last year having a bit of a hard time with Shavuos. I'm not sure why I thought it would be a good idea to listen to and/or read over shuirim given by my seminary teachers talking about the zechus of supporting Torah, etc. etc. 

We paint this idealistic picture of life and its projection, but it doesn't always turn out like that. Not every girl comes home from sem, meets her bashert right away, and penny pinches to support her family in kollel. Where does that plan leave the rest of us?

I think it's hard for me too, because at one point I really wanted to be that woman, supporting a husband sitting and toiling in learning all day, but somehow right now I don't see myself doing that. Because Shavuos is all about learning, it rubs this in my face.

I think it behooves us to remember that this yuntif's essence is about our connection with Hashem, our own personal kabalas hatorah. It is really a misconception that it's all about learning, that would make it an exclusively a male yom tov (excluding anybody that isn't a mitzuveh v'oseh). It isn't necessarily about learning Torah as it is about accepting Hashem and His commandments. Learning is one way to express this connection and acceptance. The central theme is "naaseh v'nishama." It is about realizing that everything in the Torah is for your best, and everything in your life is meant for your good in some way. Shavuos is about accepting your unique mission in this world and doing your best to live by the Torah as your blueprints. What does Hashem want from you right now? Na'aseh v'nishma... Maybe we need to do more and then we can "listen," listen to all our own rationalizing and things that hold us back from doing Hashem's will...

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

Purim and The Illusion of Control

Simchas Yuntif

R' Shimshon Pincus in his sefer on Purim in his maamer titled "Hashlech al Hashem Yehavecha" talks about how there is a mitzvah of happiness, simchas yuntif, surrounding all Yamim Tovim. For example, Sukkos is Zman Simchaseinu. Likewise, on Purim we have a mitzvah of mishteh v'simcha. However, unlike all other chagim, there is a mitzvah of drinking wine until one doesn't know the difference between Baruch Mordechai and Aror Haman. This mitzvah is very different from these other types of happiness we are supposed to experience during the other holidays of the year; it seems to have no shychus to kedusha. And so, says R' Pincus, Purim is unlike all the other moadim.

While all the other chagim serve a purpose in Klal Yisroel's journey as a nation, and each year we tap into that potential when we celebrate each Yom Tov, Purim is in a class of its own.

Pesach and Yetzias Mitzrayim is leidas am yisroel. Sfira are the days of chinuch until we were obligated for kiyum hamitzvos. Shavuos is the bar mitzvah of Bnei Yisroel. The Yamim Noraim are the days of courtship between Bnei Yisroel and Hashem, the closeness coming from the teshuva we engage in during that time period. Sukkos is the chasuna; entering into the sukkah is akin to stepping under the chuppah. Shmini Atzeres is the yichud. After the Yamim Tovim there are days of darkness and the "choshech al pnei s'hom" is Yavan who darkened the eyes of Yisroel. Chanukah brought back this light of Torah to Bnei Yisroel.

The whole purpose of all these moadim, this whole journey, is Purim! They all lead up to Purim, which is the ninth and final moed of the year (only followed by the tenth, the time of beas hamoshiach).

Hester Panim

To really understand what Purim is about, we have to understand what "hester panim" is. Hester panim is synonymous with tzaros. During the time of Shlomo Hamelech Bnei Yisroel didn't lack for anything, but when the Beis Hamikdash was destroyed we had klallos, one worse than the next. We cannot understand why things happen and how Hashem runs the world. To our perception bad things happen to good people and good things happen to bad people. We think the whole world goes according to our maasim. It is a mechanism of action that we know as "teva." Hashem's yad is hidden, and we believe we control things.

Purim reveals the truth. With all of the moadim it seems like we did something to deserve the salvation or outcome. By Yetzias Mitzrayim we believed in Hashem and so He took us out; Kabalas Hatorah we said "Naase V'nishama" and we were then given the Torah; Yamim Noraim - we did teshuva and we were forgiven; at the time of the Chanukah story the Chashmonaim had tremendous mesiras nefesh and so we were saved. However, Purim changes this pattern. At the time of Purim there was a sealed decree in shamayim of "kliya" (that Bnei Yisroel would be destroyed). There was nothing we could do to change that. The neis of Purim was that Hashem Himself b'chvodo u'b'atzmo annulled this injunction. It is clear that we did nothing to control the outcome, because there was nothing we could do.

Get Out of the Way!

In order for Hashem to Himself nullify the decree, He needed to get Man out of the way. Hashem needed for Man to stop thinking that what he is doing is manipulating the outcome of events. On Purim G-d waves Man aside; He tells him to go get drunk and remove himself from the picture so that He alone can control outcomes.

People believe that their actions regulate things; they have grandiose illusions of control. The mitzvah to drink on Purim teaches us a lesson. When someone is drunk he realizes that he can't do anything alone. In this realization, he can feel deep simcha, as he then realizes that Hashem is doing everything for him and he need not worry. This, says R' Pincus, is what makes Purim's simcha different from all other chagim.

Rabbi Kagan in his book, The Choice to Be, quotes the Maharal, who brings a slightly different angle concerning this point. He asserts that seichel causes human pride and accords a status separate from G-d. Drinking wine removes this intellect and thereby eliminates this separation, affording us a special closeness and happiness.

In the Torah, everything follows the maasim of Klal Yisroel -- "V'haya im shamoah tishmau" –– but in Megillas Esther, the Purim story, it's different. After everything was said and done, there was no way possible for Bnei Yisroel to be saved, and yet Hashem saved us!

Purim revealed that Hashem can change reality in a second! The story of the Megilla is different from all other stories in the Torah! For this reason, says R' Pincus, after Moshiach comes, all other kisvei kodesh will be abrogated aside from the Chameishe Chumshei Torah and Megillas Esther. All other messages are contained in the Torah, except that of Purim.

Haman was a small guy who accelerated from an unimportant nothing in the king's court to the head advisor almost overnight. He was then given the king's signet ring and free reign to make proclamations and decrees. Yet Haman's luck changed suddenly. He went from Second-in-Command to leading the 'lowliest' man in the kingdom on a horse, during which garbage was dumped on his head. Mordechai, the man who was being persecuted and sentenced to death, was led on a horse and given honors by the Royal Second-In-Command himself.

This neis shows that anything can happen in a second, all without man's involvement.

Turn Your Action into Prayer

Esther sent Mordechai clothes when he was sitting in sackclothes and ashes mourning the fate of the Jewish people. Esther told Mordechai to get dressed and do hishtadlus, go talk to the king. Mordechai said "no." There was nothing that Klal Yisroel could do except seek rachamim from HKB"H. This is why Mordechai took the children, dressed them in sak v'efer and they fasted and davened for three days. This was not an act of teshuva, says R' Pincus, but rather a way to be m'vakesh rachamim from Hashem.

Esther Hamalka's hishtadlus too was that of being m'vkesh rachamim. She threw two parties for the king and Haman, but when it came down to it, she broke down and cried, "If I have found favor in the eyes of the King, and if it please the King, let my life be saved and the lives of my people...for it is this man, this wicked man that wants to kill us." Rabbi Kagan brings the famous medrash that states that whenever it says "the King" in the megillah without specifying Achashveirosh, it is referring to Hashem. He explains that Esther was not beseeching Achashveirosh for mercy, rather she was talking to Hashem, asking that her life be spared from Achashveirosh and Haman. Esther had no illusion of control, her action was transformed to prayer.

The v'nahapoch hu was only talui on Hashem. Only when Klal Yisroel turned themselves completely over to Hashem did Hashem save them.

Hashem is in Complete Control 

This is the climax of Bnei Yisroel's journey, realizing that the Boreh is in complete and total control –– taking care of everything in the world.

Purim is about the "pur." When someone makes a gorel, he has no control over the outcome. He is leaving it totally up to Hashem. Haman made a lottery; he wanted the decree to be beyond teva and beyond the mazalos. He made a lottery, and he received approval from Heaven. In order for us to change this decree, we had to rely fully on Hashem; only He had the power to abolish it.

When man is at the end of his rope, he needs to realize that Hashem truly controls everything. On Purim we get drunk and show "I have no control." We get rid of all illusions of control; we remove our intellect from the picture, and it's all up to Hashem.

The Gates Are Open

Perhaps we feel like our fate is sealed and is never going to change, but during the the time of Purim, these shearim are open. We have to believe that things can change. We have to yell out for rachamim.

The whole year we live according to a certain seder. Every Yom Tov has mitzvos we are commanded to do (on Pesach - matzah/maror/karbon pesach, Sukkos - sukkah/arbah meinim, etc). On Purim we drink wine and get out of the way. Every chag leads up this one. We have to give it all up to Hashem.

The neis of Purim is that Hashem can do anything even if it seems impossible; He can overturn sealed decrees. That is why tefillah on Purim is so crucial. We have the ability to turn to Hashem and ask Him to rescind sealed decrees.

"Kol haposhet yad, nosnin lo."

A Freilechen Purim! 

I'll Do What I Want If I Choose

Don't tell me what to do. I don't know you; you don't know me. When is it ever okay to tell a stranger what to do?

Simchas Torah night we thought we had it all planned out. Armed with a positive mindset (even minus any alcohol), a group of us decided to make our way into the fray of marrieds and their children dancing away the night.

I was all about realizing that I might be without a husband and/or children to support and encourage in the ways of Torah, as of yet, but being single doesn't define me. And, this holiday isn't about me. It's about Torah, and we each have our own way of being koneh it.

Being single, in fact, gave/gives me a chance for self discovery –– a self awareness that may have otherwise gotten swallowed in a relationship and/or family life. All those people that look at us and feel sorry for us, I pity them. They likely didn't get a chance to develop their individuality. It isn't a contest, but I'm definitely not any worse off because my path is different than theirs, that my journey deviates from their norm.

I digress.

In one shul we visited, the matzav was shvach, and it was all about the social scene. We had more exciting venues on our agenda, and so, after a few minutes, I sought out one friend who was stuck talking to a neighborhood woman. I know this woman didn't know who I was, because seconds before she had asked me my name. For context's sake, her daughter, now married with a handful of kids, was in my high school class. Either way, I turned to my friend and said, "Where's so-and-so and so-and-so? We should go."

The woman looks at me, tsk-tsk's ever so softly, and says, while shaking her head condescendingly, "You don't have to leave."

I'm sorry, why are you telling me what to do?

Admittedly, I don't really know what she meant and what she was thinking when she said that. I am sure that I'm probably making a big deal about nothing, but I honestly am still puzzled why she felt like she should say anything at all. Perhaps it's the cynic in me that just assumes that she felt sorry for us, a group of wandering single girls, no base to tether us. She was welcoming us into her warm arms, her shul, her home base.

That's sweet, but not all those who wander are lost.

Please don't tell me what to do, and don't assume I need your pity.

Eis Ratzon Vs. Segulos

Hoshana Rabba: "a great amount of saving."

It's the last day before the din of Rosh Hashana/Yom Kippur is sealed. The gates of Heaven are slowly closing, and it's an auspicious time for tefillah. It's one of the occasions during which our prayers are more readily accepted.

Of course, davening every day is just as important. But, this is a time that our tefillos are boosted, and we would be foolish to not take advantage of this.

Utilizing an Eis Ratzon is different than engaging in segulos. A segulah is something that is said to bring about positive things; how it works though is beyond our logical understanding. Not all segulos can be lumped together, of course, and some decidedly have more merit than others.

Reciting Shir HaShirim/Perek Shira/Karbanos HaNissim for forty days, sponsoring Torah study, saying Shir HaMaalos in Elokai Netzor, praying at the kever of the Zviller Rebbe Monday/Thursday/Monday, davening at Amukah, davening for someone else's yeshuah, making/taking challah, lighting Shabbos licht, saying the whole Sefer Tehillim, getting a bracha from a rebbe, partaking from sheva brachos wine, giving money for hachnassas kallah, etc. maybe are all (mostly?) worthy pursuits, but do they directly affect whether you will find your zivug soon?

Perhaps they're hishtadlus, and some are legitimate mitzvos and worthy of their own accord, but like all hishtadlus, you "put in" one place and the yeshuah comes from another. At the end of the day, there isn't really any one thing we can do that will ensure we will receive a yeshuah. However, I do know that life is about our relationship with G-d, and tefillah is one great medium to work on that. Make fun of segulos all you want, but a time when our davening gets where it's going a little bit easier is an occasion we should not pass up.

If Sukkos is Zman Simchaseinu, Why Does it Hurt so Much?

I guess I should consider myself lucky; all my married siblings live in Israel (and stayed there for yuntif). Plus, the one who used to argue with me about the choices I was making finally stopped. Either he's matured in his old age (not that he's that old, he just happens to have a handful of children now and other things to worry about), it happens to the best of them eventually, or he's feeling sorry for me and doesn't want to rock the boat. I hate pity, but if it helps us get along, I'll take it.

Someone asked me if I'm going to spend Sukkos in Eretz Yisroel. As if I don't have a job here I have a responsibility to and must put in some hours erev yuntif and chh"m. (Plus seems like working those times makes this easier.) But either way, the last time I was in Israel was actually a little painful for me. Don't get me wrong, I'm in love with the Land, and I have some pretty cute kiddies over there I wish I saw more often, but everyone there is...married. If they're Israeli, they're married by 17, and all the Americans, aside from the young'uns, are there with their spouse. I just don't fit in.

As much as they're special and joyous times, at this stage, Yamim Tovim hurt. They're hard. A time that's focused on family (which I obviously do not yet have), a time that everyone packs into a house that wasn't meant for a growing number of couples and their cute, but rambunctious, kids, a time that everything that I do gets disdainfully judged by sheltered and self-righteous relatives, but mostly the fact that I'm still not married gets rubbed in my face, and I try to find my place within all the gaiety.

Just because I'm here without a spouse doesn't negate that I'm an adult, just like every other adult here. That does not mean that I would like to share a room, babysit your children, or do all your errands. Please don't tell me what to do, the young marrieds (who I will add, some of which, are younger than me) don't get that treatment.

It's Shabbos, and the silverware, having just been washed, is in a jumble. Female family member in question looks at me and says, "I can't set the table with this, it's boreir. Learn the halachos." Uh, m'yad, b'yad, oichel m'toch p'soles. I have the same Bais Yaakov education as you do. I didn't forget Hilchos Shabbos just because high school was a long time ago and I went to college after seminary. You learn the halachos. "Okay, well, happy to be your Shabbos goy. I'll do it myself."

You would think that everyone's learned their lesson by now and would have ceased making comments like "Next yuntif you'll be here with your husband." I feel left out and lonely and incomplete, all without your help. Don't be an unwitting Penina; I'm in enough pain as it is.

All I want is to share in the simcha. I want a husband and children to nurture, love and support (emotionally) –– a family of my own –– instead of just watching everyone else's from the sidelines. I want to unpause my life, create a bayis with someone I cherish and respect, bring the Shechinah into our home and to our own Shabbos table. I want a chelek in Torah and to teach my kids love of Hashem and Yiddishkeit. They are all spiritually worthy goals...

On Simchas Torah as I will stand around with my (long since) married friends watching their husbands and kids whirl around celebrating something that comes from a sense of accomplishment and resulting joy, I wonder will I ever have a chance at celebrating/supporting Torah like that?

Words Spoken To Yours "Unspoken"

Of the many perils of reading frum literature...

Mishpacha magazine, in their Family First supplement, runs a column called "Words Unspoken," which provides a forum for random individuals to vent or share personal insights with Mishapacha's readership about subjects which apparently they're too reticent to actually voice in real life. Or they just need a soapbox.

The Sukkos edition features a letter written by "A Former Single" who just wants to let all singles know that she used to be them and feels their pain. Beautiful.

"I feel like a fraud," she voices.

"I know how you feel," she sighs.

"Please don't walk away when there is a group of us talking about bedtimes and sheitels," she frets.

Oh. No. You. Didn't.

I understand you get how this feels having been there not too long ago yourself; however, if you do, then don't be like all those people who caused you pain back then. You will remember that you don't want your married friends telling you what to do and how to feel. And, if you want us to stay and catch up, then don't talk about married things.

It's really nice that you're trying to empathize, and I'm truly sorry that the pain of being single for too long didn't go away after you got married and had children. But, you no longer have a foot in this world. You need to move on and start forgetting that hurt, being happy with what you have now. You're not one of us anymore. Don't worry, if you remember, it isn't an exciting exclusive club.

Joy = Connection

We completed the avoda of Rosh Hashana, being mamlich Hashem, leading us to do teshuva on Yom Kippur for all the wrongdoings we'd done, which then created a closeness between us and G-d.

Let us not allow it to end there. 

It's easy to breathe a sigh of relief when Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur are over. We've done the work; we did teshuva. Hopefully we were judged as righteous and a year of good is awaiting us. Now we can relax a little... 

But, as we lean back and relax our vigilance, haunting captivating strains, the melody of Olam HaZeh, beckon us. We each have a path that we cannot help but follow, one that will chv"sh lead to spiritual tragedy if we follow the inclinations that lure us into their inescapable grasp. We are blinded, and we rationalize, justifying why things may not be damaging to our spirituality...

It is at these moments when the music is so pulsating, so enchanting, that we need some way to combat it. 

This is Sukkah. 

It is a simple spiritual place where Hashem shelters us. It is a safe haven, a hallow, where the captivating materialism of Olam HaZeh cannot reach us. It is a place that will help us attain the closeness to HK"BH that our tefillos during the Yamim Noraim helped us glimpse. Sukkah can help us realize where true happiness comes from and ignore the confusion of "maybe I can live with this distance between me and G-d."

On the second day of Creation, division was created; Hashem separated the waters into upper waters and the lower waters, creating heavens and earth. For this reason, on Monday, Hashem did not say “Ki Tov,” because there is something inherently not good about separation. Chazal tell us that someone who did not see the water libation during the Simchas Beis HaShoava never experienced authentic happiness. Why does pouring water engender such intense joy? Says R’ Hutner, this is the truest sense of happiness there is -- the (re)connection of the mayim elyonim and mayim tachtonim (upper and lower waters).

Connection is simcha. Genuine happiness comes from accomplishment, or perhaps from peace of mind. When we reach this level of connection to G-d, we have both. Relationships take effort, and dveikus with Hashem is no different. When you reach a level in a relationship where there isn't a "me and a you," only a "we," then you know you've made it.

Chag sameach!

Rosh Hashana: Connecting Through Ahava

I’ve heard the sentiment that people may think that there are two different G-ds, that Yiddishkeit is two different religions. I’m not speaking of factions of Judaism; rather, what I speak of is the two very different atmospheres in shul on Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur versus that on Simchas Torah and Purim. Extremely different approaches to G-d and life, and yet, it’s the same religion, and it’s the same G-d.

How are we supposed to relate to Hashem? Is it through this fear of eternal damnation, or this tremendous love that He has for us? Are these two different approaches perhaps meant for different times in history? Are we too weak at this point in time to be able to withstand this yirah-style avoda? Nowadays, most people do not deign to use punishment and instead utilize positive reinforcement, because children, and people in general, respond to that approach more positively. Someone uses physical punishment, and it’s termed abuse. The “victim” then rebels against everything that person stands for.

Perhaps I make it sound uncalled for and even ridiculous, but it’s a real phenomenon. We just aren’t the same people who withstood scoldings and beatings and only came away with renewed vigor to do the right thing. I could go into the psychology of it, but that’s a discussion beyond the scope of this post. The question here that I’m trying to understand is that of is connecting to Hashem through ahava a stira with connecting to Him through yirah? Can they go hand in hand? Is our generation capable of really feeling true yirah and using this to grow spiritually and connect with HK"BH?

Fiery speeches about gehenom have not been broadly used to motivate us to do what’s right. Instead, most popular contemporary baalei mussar have appealed to us through the venue of Hashem’s love for us. We definitely need to know that there is right and wrong, and that there are consequences for our actions. Hashem loves us unconditionally, but He has expectations of us. He knows where we stand in life, and He gives us challenges only for our benefit. However, He wants us to pass these tests. He cares about us failing to do the right thing.

On Rosh Hashanah we daven for many things. We ask for life, for happiness, for Hashem to shower us with His goodness. If He loves us so much wouldn’t He just give to us pro bono? The answer is yes and no. Hashem gives much of what we have for free. Nothing we can do in this world can make us deserve everything that Hashem has blessed us with. But, the answer is also no. Hashem wants us to daven, to connect to Him, to do His mitzvos. It is not for Hashem’s benefit, however. It is for ours. Hashem doesn’t need to do this accounting of us every year. He is omniscient; He doesn’t have to pass us under a staff like a flock a sheep to be aware of what we’ve done this year. Instead, this audit, so to speak, is for our benefit, to make sure that we stay on track. Aside from gaining eternal reward, which is ultimately the purpose of this transient existence, we have a much better Olam Hazeh if we follow the Torah.

This all being said, I think we can conclude that yiraas shamyim and ahavas Hashem are closely intertwined. The yirah is an awareness of s'char v'onesh and a sense of right and wrong; the ahava can be an outlook and a means to achieve the awareness. Many baalei mussar tell us that fear comes first and the love afterward, because fear of punishment is a greater motivator. However, nowadays, I think fear elicits rebellion or confusion. Yes, yira is important, but perhaps ahava can accomplish the same thing.

If we aren’t trembling thinking about the Yom HaDin, can I venture that that’s okay? We may not be on that level, but hopefully we will reach an awareness that works for us. We have to keep in mind that this is the same G-d that we rejoice with on Sukkos and Simchas Torah. This is the same religion in which we party on Purim (Yom Kippur is “Yom K’Purim,” a day like Purim; the spirituality is so great on Purim). Two different approaches, all leading us to the same means. If you can’t connect through fear, connect through love.

To me, because this year was so hard for me (I admit, it mostly had to do with dating; I guess that's what makes this post relevant.), and I thought I davened well last Yamim Noraim, it's hard for me to do it all over again. If it's really true that everything that is going to happen during the year is being decided on Rosh Hashana, how do I go into this optimistically when I feel like it's the same thing year after year? Finding that love is hard when I feel like I'm asking for something that if Hashem really loved me I wouldn't still need to be asking for at this point, and I know I've backed away a bit from the yirah...

The avoda for Rosh Hashana is being mamlich Hashem melech, pronouncing Him king. He is our Father, our King. He wants what is best for us, and He wants a connection to us. That's what I know I need to focus on.

Ksiva V'chasima Tova!