Growing Pains, and other thoughts

Goodbye 200X

2009-12-31T16:23:00.004-05:00

A decade ago I was a senior in high school, trying to figure out what college to go to, what it would be like living away from home, thinking that by the end of the decade I'd have a job, have lived in the real world, everything was possible.
And today, I am still in school, only this time, trying to decide what I'll be doing next year, where I'll be working, what will be next. SO here's a rundown of the highlights of my life in the past decade:
2000: Graduated High School, Started UMICH
2004: got accepted to Ziegler School, Graduated UMICH, met some amazing people in LA
2005: Nana passed away, learned how to drive in LA
2006: Moved to Israel for 9 months, learned I love Pastoral care,
2007: Learned to love living in Israel, Loved coming home more, Summer in Chicago, Papa died, I turned a quarter century old, Dad died, I met DUNCAN
2008: Got my Masters in Education, got engaged
2009: Got married, mastered 60 daf (120 sides) of Talmud, held down 3 jobs simultaneously
2010: I will be ORDAINED as a RABBI!!!

Its amazing to thinka bout all the experiences, emotions, love, loss, friendship and growing that has taken place over the last decade, and I am so proud of myself and how far I've come. I can't wait to see what this next year and decade brings with it, I am so ready!!

Interrupting God

2009-12-30T19:08:00.003-05:00

Over the last few years I have been grappling with God, sometimes it felt like a fight, other times it felt like we were alternating giving one another the silent treatment, and others it just felt awkward. And as this last few months have gone by and the reality of my ordination is becoming clearer, I have struggled to find a place with prayer and God that I think is genuine. I want to move into that relationship once more.
I am ready to reenter into prayer and God relationships. While on the cruise ship in the middle of nowhere I had a moment where I started to converse with God again, it wasn't about prayer or set time, it was just me on the balcony watching the ocean ripple as the boat moved through the open space, no other life visible save for the sky, the waves and the entire world living under the water. And I talked to God, I cried, and I sat. It felt really good. The first time I did this I felt like an intruder, like I had somehow wandered into God's private, alone space, the beauty of them middle of the ocean, but as the days went on I felt more at home in God's world. It was just what I needed. So, where to next??

Another Turning Point

2009-12-30T19:03:00.001-05:00

Today I was driving home from school after an intense week involving many conversations about where we will be in a year, what the future holds, many unknowable ideas and grappling this morning with my own struggle with God a song from my past came on the radio.

"Another turning point a fork stuck in the road. Time grabs you by the wrist directs you where to go. So make the best of this task and don't ask why. It's not a question but a lesson learned in time. It's something unpredictable but in the end it's right, I hope you had the time of your life." ~Green Day

This song used to be one of my favorite songs, it provided me some sense of calm and comfort when it seemed my life was out of control, out of order, strange, frustrating. And today, it came on the radio as all these thoughts of change and moving were on my mind and once again I was calm. I am here at another turning point, a fork in the road. I don't know where I'll be 9 months from now. For the first time in my life I have no idea what comes next. Will I work in a pulpit, will I work in a school, will I combine the two? Will I stay in LA, will I move back to Michigan, Texas, the east coast? Will I have friends there? So many choices need to be made, some of which I have no control over other than trying my hardest, putting my best foot, face and mind forward and being totally fit for the job.

And then I was thinking about rabbinical school, what a strange, incredible, long, exhausting, exhilarating journey I have been on for the last 6 years. I have grown, changed. I have fallen in love, made a new community for myself. I have lost many loved ones. I have gained weight and lost weight, smiled, laughed, cried, screamed and argued my way through so many pages of Talmud. Through the history and tradition that I love so dearly. It has been an incredible journey and I would be lying if I said I was glad it is ending. I am terrified, but excited, certain it will be an experience like none other.

And I have learned. I learned a little bit about who I am, about what motivates me, about what terrifies me. I wrestle with God daily, with the question of God, with the relationship I have with God, with what I used to know to be true and can no longer believe. I learned about traditions, law, philosophy, and I only hope I can remember it all.

Rabbi as Relationship Therapist

2009-10-22T19:00:00.001-05:00

In order to begin the job search process as part of the last year of rabbinical school (WOAH!), we had to come up with our metaphor for the rabbinate. I spent a lot of time debating over different metaphors- rabbi as park ranger, rabbi as juggler, rabbi as conductor. But none of these really resonated with me in what I see as the role of the Rabbi. I settled on Rabbi as Relationship Therapist. As a rabbi I see it as my role to help people build relationships, plumb the depths of the relationships, what makes them work? How have they changed? What are we lacking in them? What can we do better? As a rabbi I want to help people build relationships with themselves, with their partners, lovers, friends, community, texts, traditions, history and with God. My job is to help these relationships blossom, flourish, and grow into a deeper, more meaningful relationship. Along the way, I will offer encouragement, suggest texts to push the learning deeper. I will engage in the hard conversations that accompany growing with oneself and with one another. I will be supportive on the journey and challenging when a little push is needed to really move to the next level in these relationships. Sometimes our relationships are broken, in disrepair, and I hope to be able to guide others through the process of healing. This is my hope as a rabbi- to be able to foster relationships with, love of and comfort with Judaism, people, tradition, ourselves.

A Shelter of Peace: Finding my Space

2009-10-05T22:18:00.001-05:00

A D'var Torah given on Friday Night, Erev Sukkot at my internship. Actual delivery varied from text!

growing up in Michigan my biggest sukkot worry was that it would snow in the sukkah, or those other times when it would rain and the paper chain I'd spent hours piecing together would be ruined, soggy, gone. Sukkot always meant hot apple cider, chilly nights outside, mittens. And then I came to LA, it was warm, even comfortable in the sukkah, I didn't have to worry about my paper chains being ruined- what a weird experience. It wasn't until I moved to LA 6 years ago that I even learned that Schach, the word for what we cover the sukkah with didn't mean evergreen. I came to LA and was very confused when there were palm branches on top of the Sukkah, Of course they didn't have evergreen trees in the desert as they were traveling, but for me, it was a huge blow to my world.

A couple of weeks ago as I was learning more about Etz Chaim, I heard the following conversation: There was a problem with the Schach, the covering for the Sukkah. Apparently if it was delivered too soon it would dry out and become a fire danger. Now, some of you might be thinking, DUH, this is obvious, it's dry, we live in a desert? I'd never even thought about that, I only saw the luxury in living somewhere that had weather above freezing for sukkot.

listening to this conversation I was again humbled at my place on this earth. Sukkot, this holiday we have just entered into provides us with a space to think about our journeys. While we may not be physically journeying from place to place with this temporary structure as our only shelter, we are journeying through life. We have just spent days thinking about who will live and who will die, praising God for the good in our life, wondering how we can help others. And now we have arrived at Sukkot and are again reminded of our temporary residence in the world. The sukkah, like our relationships with one another takes effort to build, requires constant care, checking in on, nurture in order to make it through just an 8 day celebration. The sukkah stands for us as a symbol of community.

Ufros Aleinu Sukkat Shelomeicha. Spread over us the shelter of your peace, of your completion. This phrase is part of the Hashkiveinu prayer said every night during Ma'ariv, the evening service. It has always stood out to me as a line of poignancy, one that speaks to me on many levels. Physically, we build the sukkah, we build this temporary structure to live in for the 8 days of the holiday. It becomes our home, our center. And on a much higher level, we think about a much larger structure, being wrapped, embraced in God's arms, in God's shelter of peace, of tranquility, of completion. The Sukkah is much bigger than what we can build in our own backyard.

We are on a journey, trying to find the space that we will call our own. The sukkah thtat we build is strong, but can only last for so long.

We ask God to spread over us his shelter of peace, to support us on our journey. Ufros Aleinu Sukkat Shelomecha. Over the next week as we celebrate the joy of the harvest festival, as we continue on our journey through life, finding our place under the shelter of peace, think about where your journey is taking you. We have this gift each year of 8 days to sit with ourselves, to think about where our journey is taking us.

And so, it is my prayer, my hope, the prayer of my heart that God spreads over you, over us his/her shelter of peace. That each of us finds our peaceful place, a place of center, contentment, happiness. That the loving embrace of God helps each of us to find our own place, our makom Kavua (set place) in this world, and we enjoy the journey to that place!

Shabbat Shalom, Chag Sameach!

REMEMBER ME

2009-10-01T12:53:00.002-05:00

A drash on V'zot HaBrachah- once again, written text is not what the actual presentation was!

what if you could write your own Eulogy, you own ethical will? What would you say? who would you bless? How will you be remembered? What would others say? We are often remembered by our words, what we say to another person can often leave a mark.

This Parshah, Parshat V'zot HaBrachah is Moses's ethical will, his parting words to the people of Israel. As I was growing up, my dad used to send me emails of encouragement, of support, of blessings and of love. When he is no longer here with me, his words remain, encouraging me, they allow him to live on.

In many ways, Moses's words in our parshah do the same thing. he brings in memory of what was, he reminds them of what he had seen them do, who they were and how far they have come. Deuteronomy, Chapter 33, verse 1 states: This is the blessing with which Moses, the man of God, bade the Israelites farewell before he died. And then goes on to bless the tribes. The order of this blessing and the blessings given are nearly identical to what is given to those tribes in Genesis. Moses concludes his life with a blessing, with his wishes and dreams for the future.

in Chapter 34, verse 5, Moses dies, "So Moses, the servant of the Lord died there, in the land of Moab, at the command of the lord." The verse states Al-Pi-Adonai literally by the mouth of the lord. So I ask the question, what does it mean to die by the mouth of the lord?

In the Babylonian Talmud, in Moed Katan, 28a the Talmud states that God reclaimed the soul of Moses by kissing him. The same God who breathed life into Adam in the beginning of the Torah takes Moses in the same way at the end. Life, Breathe, a Kiss. So simple, so profound. Our mouth is the window to our soul- we live through it, we can injure with it, our words can hurt and heal, By the mouth Moses died, and by the mouth, we live.

In tractate Brachot 31 the Talmud teaches that a person should only leave his fellow with a word of Halachah, a piece of Law as it is through this that one will be remembered. Our words allow us to remember people, to create meaning and memory. After we are gone, whether by distance or by death, often our words are how we are remembered.

Our Parshah- V'zot HaBrachah tells us that this is the blessing. We are able to use our mouth, life is blown into us to bless us, we can bless those around us. This is what our blessing is.

Moses will be remembered through his blessings, his laws, his deeds. My father will be remembered by so many for so many things, but his legacy for me lives on through his emails, those words that speak to me more each day.

What is your blessing?

Really God?! Teshuva, Tefillah, Tzedakah make it better?

2009-09-29T15:04:00.003-05:00

Because if this is better, if this is a lesser Decree, I dont' want to know what the other end is like.

I sit here today, one day out of the days of repentance feeling a bit angry, and a bit alone. I'm not sure I understand the world in any sense. And don't get me started on belief in God.

We just spent the last 10 days beating ourselves up, fasting, repenting, striking our chest as we confessed to all the times we have missed the mark in our life. I spent time thinking about all the things I've done that i wish to do better in the coming year. i am really really trying, really trying to change, to grow, to be a better person. But sometimes I wonder what God tries to do. Does God try to improve? Because right now, at this moment I am angry with God, I am angry with the way the world is playing with my emotions. Why should I work to better myself, beat myself up and praise God when it seems that so many awful things happen in the world.

This is much bigger than the question of why bad things happen to good people. I said over and over again that God is the decider of each person's fate- who will live and who will die, who the length of their days and whose life will be cut too short. And i say the words and I am angry.

I have always loved the High Holy day liturgy, the beautiful melodies that seem to pierce my soul, the feeling of change, of a clean slate. I was forever looking forward to the reminder of my mortality. I didn't have much of a problem praising God, I believed in a fair and just God. I believed that if i really tried, that if people really tried, if people did Teshuva, tefillah and tezedakah, the decree would be lessened, God wouldn't be so harsh to good, genuine people.

And then my dad died, and all those times i said the Amidah and prayed for healing felt like they meant nothing. I prayed for a while, not loosing my faith, until we got to Rosh HaShannah and all i felt was anger- how could i pray the words of the unetanetokef prayer and praise God. I can't do it, i oculdn't do it. it makes me angry. Why does God make these decisions, why does this happen, why did a future colleague and wonderful guy that I never met die from a broken hip in perfect health at 27? Why did my dear friend, the father of 3 young boys die? I have a hard time believing in a God that decides this. And having just spent a lot of time looking at a text that gives God the ultimate power in these decisions, i have a hard time believing in that God.

Teshuva.... does it really work? is this any better? any different?

I believe in God, in a higher power because this pain that I feel is not a human pain, it is much deeper. I don't think i will ever feel this much hurt by human hands. But I don't know which kind of God I believe in. Today it is a God of anger, of rage, of pain.

One day I'll be able to forgive God, one day I'll believe in a nicer, more civilized God, but today i am feeling anger and confusion. Today I'm not such a fan of God. I still believe, I'm just not happy with that divine force.

Standing with Intention

2009-09-29T14:57:00.001-05:00

*the Drash I Delivered before Ne'ilah on Yom Kippur to the PicoEgal Minyan. This is not at all how it came out of my mouth*

10 days ago Jews sat together as the birth of the world was celebrated. We took joy in the new year, and we were reminded of our mortality. In just the last 10 days we've seen who will live and who will die, who by water- the floods in the South East and who by fire. Our mortality is known, God is judge. We may not have begun the act of teshuva of asking for forgiveness 10 days ago, some of us are planners, some of us began working on the journey of asking for forgiveness long before Rosh HaShannah. And others in this room might be procrastinators, trying to get it all in right now, in this last service before the book of life and to quote reb mimi the book of not so much are sealed. Some of us fall in between. Wherever we fall on the spectrum, we've made it here to this moment.

We have this feeling of accomplishment, We've made it, we're almost there. As a child, I remember coming to services for Neilah, there were no children's services, everyone was in this serious, sort of loopy mood with the affects of the fast weighing heavily on their bodies. I remember my mom and dad talking about standing for an hour, how they dread it every year. My grandparents, sat down while the ark was open, something I'd never seen. And all I wanted to do was wait for Havdallah when I would get my glowstick and get to play on the Bimah.

It was very easy for my parents, who had been fasting all day to focus on the pain of Neilah, the need to stand for what feels like forever. It is easy for us to want to really get through Neilah, we've spent the day beating our chests, standing, sitting, reflecting, we're done. Our mind starts to wander; our feet might hurt, our tummy's are rumbling, we're tired, and rightfully so. The challenge is to stay focused.

It says in the talmud, Masechet Brachot, at the opening to the fifth perek- Ein Omdin L'hitpalel ela mitoch Koved rosh. One should not stand to pray (usually the Amidah) without Koved Rosh- without proper intention in their mind. The Talmud goes on with a lengthy discussion of what this means, and what each suggestion has in common is that one should not stand to pray without a clear mind. Without the space to have uninterrupted communication with the divine, one should not pray.

The Talmud goes on to have a discussion of what it actually means to have Koved Rosh- some might translate it to mean a heavy head. One can only stand in prayer if their head is burdened, if they feel the weight of their deeds. Others interpret it as having Kavanah, as having the proper intention. As being able to focus your mind solely on the task at hand. Prayer is not something that you can multi-task at. You have to be present.

In a few moments we will open the Aron, as a symbol of the open gates to the Temple and metaphorically, the open heavenly gates. We will speak of God as as Noten Yad Le-Foshe'im the god who spreads our his hand in forgiveness to sinners. A God of forgiveness. When all else fails in the work we do, God will forgive.

We are at the last level, the final push towards really entering a new year with a clean slate. Hopefully we have done the work needed to arrive at this moment of Neilah before the gates have closed and really truly stand as individuals, stand as ourselves in pure concentration, pure meditation on what it means to stand before God.

As we begin to chant the last Amidah of the season of repentance, say that last vidui prayer, I challenge each of us to really stand with Koved Rosh, focus your intention on the process, on the meaning, on the work we've done together this last 25 hours.

The challenge is to get over the physical stress and really live in the spiritual challenge of being present. Let us stand here as a community with Koved Rosh, with intention, with focus, with love.

Choose Life, Choose You!

2009-09-29T14:35:00.002-05:00

*Text of the Drash I gave on first day Rosh HaShannah at the PicoEgal Minyan before Musaf... delivery definitely varied from the written word! Enjoy!*

A very wise man once wrote to me: I just want you to know that careers and life are not the same. You can change careers and you can change locations but your life is whatever you are and wherever you are. I am not sure I understood what he was saying when I first read this as I was a senior in College, but now, this year, it suddenly makes sense.

This past Shabbat, we read from Parshat Nitzavim Chapter 30 verse 19-20 states:

I call heaven and earth to witness against you this day: I have put before you life and death, blessing and curse, CHOOSE LIFE- if you and your offspring would live, by loving the Lord your God, heeding his commands and holding fast to him, for thereby you shall have life and shall long endure…. ETC.”

The parshah we read leading up to Rosh Hashannah and this new year implores us to choose life. This implies that our destiny is in our hands, we have the choice- CHOOSE LIFE!

This seems fitting as we enter into Rosh Hashanah and a new year. As we will read shortly, today the world was born, HaYom HARAT OLAM- we have a clean slate, a clean beginning. We have the choice to choose how our world will shape up in the next year.

And yet, The text of the Amidah for Musaf states in the Unetanetokef prayer- on Rosh Hashannah it is written and on Yom Kippur it is sealed- God determines the destiny of living creatures- Camah Ya’avorun v’chamah yibarun, Mi Yikyeh u’mi Yamut, Mi B’kiso u’mi lo bkiso, mi ba’esh u’mi ba’mayim, etc. How many shall leave this world and how many shall be born into it, who shall live and who shall die, who shall live out the limit of his days and who shall not, who shall perish by fire and who by water, etc.

This implies that the choice is not in our hands, but God’s hands- our fate is sealed. Since I moved to Southern California, it seems even more real with the fires, earthquakes, mudslides, maybe I don’t have the choice.

So what do we do with these two seemingly contradictory pieces in our texts. As we enter into this task of spending time with ourselves, taking inventory of the past year, trying to seal ourselves into the book of life, we have this task- choose life, choose to live, work on yourself.

The Slonim Rebbe had some of the same questions that I had- is it in our hands, or God’s hands? How can I choose life if it says in the liturgy, God will decide? He teaches that there is a difference between the spiritual and the physical- the text of the unetanetokef- we will live and who will die? is speaking of the physical, those things which we all realize we have little control over. While the text in Nitzavim teaches us on the spiritual, CHOOSE LIFE- it is we choose to live a Godly life, we have the power to choose how our spiritual life will pan out.

It seems to me that these texts always come hand in hand, we have the choice to live, and when we aren’t strong enough to make that choice, God will help us along. We are living in a partnership, to choose life is to choose our own path, to believe, to pray.

That wise man was reminding me that the choice is mine. As we enter into the Musaf, we stand before God, vulnerable, open, exposed, take a moment to make your own choice, with the silence left by the lack of the shofar, take the time to choose life, which direction will you go? With this gift of time, which will you choose? Life? Change? Blessing? Here we are given a gift, the lines to God are open. We are here in this place with one task at hand. We are to take stock in ourselves, open our minds and hearts, speak to god. What is your choice?

2 years

2009-08-18T23:08:00.003-05:00

I can't believe it's been two years since I've hugged you, two years since you've shared your wisdom with me, two years since i lost you. where did the time go?

Justice Justice

2008-07-14T21:09:00.002-05:00

I am spending this summer working at an organization in Chicago that works with seniors on issues of affordable housing and home care for the older adult population. I spend my days working with people who have worked their whole lives, who have given their all to society, and yet, their pensions don't cover rent, their social security barely covers the basic needs of a month. I work with individuals who deserve to live their lives with dignity, who have only ever treated others as honorable human beings, and yet, they are in a fight with the world to keep their homes, to keep their buildings affordable.
A week ago, one of the members stated that they must stand up for themselves since no one else will do it for them. I'm not sure that statement is true, after all, I spend time with them, I'm fighting for them. I think, rather, they need to stand up for themselves because each individual has a story, a history, a voice that can will you to listen, help, hope with and for them.
I have been thinking about the injustices in the world, which i know are too many to mention. What strikes me the most is that the government thinks I need xx dollars to live on every year, and yet, this amount is at least $10,00 above the poverty line for a family of 4. That's right, I need xx to live on, as a single, working student, and the family of four is expected to live on less than that. I dont' understand the math. I learned that I am expected and asked to live on $xx a month and yet, a social security check, for a woman who has worked since she was 16, is nearly half that. how is that fair. Yes, I can pay back my loans, God-willing one day, but what happened to the value of a life's work? what happens to the widow who has no one to take care of her? what happens to the man who needs a nurse to help him with his daily life but can't afford to pay her with the raise in wages? what happens to the family who is expected to live on $xxx a month, after they've worked three jobs and can't make ends meet?
I dont have the answers, I have an idea as to where to begin- with a relationship, a meeting, getting to know the neighbor you never spoke to. Writing a letter in support of those who helped build our country so we can have the freedoms today. Sometimes, it's hard to find the Justice in our world, the justice in working hard... these are the glory years?!

Alligator Tears

2008-06-20T16:40:00.002-05:00

Here I am, back in Chicago, ready to spend my summer making the world better, and my tears are the big droplets, like the raindrops that fell on my head in the storm this morning. They come and go, they are strong, steady, filled with rage, sadness, uncertainty. My life is full of uncertainty, what will happen next? I thought I had it all planned out, thought I knew, and last summer, my life flipped upside down, everything changed, my plan was called into question, my mind forced to go places it never wanted to go, my heart torn clean in two.
And then, i started to heal, started the long, tedious process of stitching my heart back together, of building a new plan, a plan with purpose and meaning, a plan that would fulfill me, a plan that would make my dad and my family proud. A plan i could fulfill. And life went on. I was surprised on the journey, on how strong I could be on the outside and how weak i feel on the inside. I was surprised by how much i could love, how trusting i could be, and scared at the what ifs of love. Excited by what was coming and hurt by indecision and waiting.
I finished my masters, i finished a stage in my plan, and now, my plan is back at zero, I don't' know where i'm going. I am back where I started last summer, my heart's a little healed, but my foundation is shaky, and I am TERRIFIED of the uncertain future ahead of me. and so, I'll cry, big alligator tears, they flow from my inner being, filling pools with my innocent tears, tears of fear, love, uncertainty, sadness, happiness, pain, guilt, a flood of anxiety over a bright future with too much uncertainty.

Days Gone By

2008-06-07T23:54:00.004-05:00

I haven't written in a while, partly because of the craziness that comes with graduation (yes, I completed the course work towards my Masters of Arts in Education) and part of it has to do with the numbness I have been feeling towards the world. I guess at this moment, I'm 9, nearly 10 months through the mourning process, and some days I still feel like I did at the beginning, missing him, them more and each day. And some times, i forget it happened, for that brief moment, my life is as I felt it should be, happy, fulfilled, loving every minute. And then something happens, and I want to call them so badly.
A year ago, I stood, ready to receive the Torah, to stand at the mountain for Shavuot a different person. I stood, less strong, more unsure of myself, now i stand, unsure, but strong.
Now I stand, hurting in my very core, craving normalcy, routine, as I did a year ago. I stand here, waiting for the Torah, for direction in my life, for a 5 year plan. I hurt at my core for my family, for those lost in the last year, conversations never had, conversations that can't be had now, that can't ever be had again.

Three of a Kind

2008-04-30T11:05:00.002-05:00

This morning, I went to minyan with a friend who had Yahrtzeit for her mother. It also turns out that another friend has Yahrtzeit for her mother today as well. Normally, in the minyan at school, I am the single voice during the Kaddish. When I go home, I am one of many, mostly older individuals saying Kaddish. Today, was the first time I was one of three, women, around the same age, saying Kaddish together. I didn't have my usual, uncomfortable reaction to saying the Kaddish, I wasn't alone. I felt empowered and connected. It isn't that I don't feel anything when I say Kaddish alone, it's just that saying it, with the voices of three women, my age who have made it through this experience and come out on top, brought me a sense of comfort I have not yet felt in my year of saying Kaddish. Today, nobody stared at me, no one looked to see why I was saying Kaddish so young. No one heard my single voice. Today, I felt connected, strengthened by the presence of these two wonderful women.

ON THE BRINK...

2008-04-28T14:39:00.002-05:00

Here is the d'var Torah I gave on Friday night at my shul. Actual delivery probably varied slightly from the written text! Also, I have been pondering lately, I promise another post shortly!

Picture this, you’re tired, your feet hurt from standing, walking, waiting. You rushed to get all the cooking done, exhaustion begins to take over, the journey is beginning. For some of you, this might sound like I’m talking about last Friday as you rushed to finish up the preparation for Passover. As tradition has it, tonight, the end of the sixth, beginning of the seventh day of Pesach is the time when the Israelites crossed the sea of Reeds. After years of hard labor in Egypt, 6 days of walking, they finally reached the point of transition. A plethora of possibilities are before the Israelites, but this is only the beginning.

Tomorrow we read from Parshat Beshalach, the splitting of the Sea of Reeds. This Parshah comes on the brink of freedom and the edge of slavery. The Israelites, on their journey, have the ultimate GPS system, a pillar of fire at night and a cloud by day. Through these symbols, God is visibly present for the Israelites, to lead them on their journey.

As the Israelites travel, moving farther away from slavery and closer to freedom, they arrive at the Sea of Reeds, their first obstacle of freedom. If they turn around, the Egyptians, who are in hot pursuit, will capture them and they will return to slavery. If they attempt to cross the sea, they might drown. They stand, awaiting transition, paused in a moment of decision. What to do? The Midrash tells us that Nachshon Ben Ami-Nadav takes a risk, he steps into the water, moves forward, and just as the waters’ depths are nearly over his head, the sea parts, and dry land appears for the Israelites to cross.

Seeing this Miracle, the Israelites begin to sing, the Song of the Sea, praising God as their strength, their warrior, the ultimate being.

עָזִּי וְזִמְרָת יָהּ וַיְהִי־לִי לִישׁוּעָה

“The Lord is my strength and song, He has become my salvation.”

What respect and awe the Israelites exhibit to God in this song! They are grateful, amazed, dancing, and singing. And yet, they cross the sea, arrive safely, having seen the Egyptians swallowed up by the waters, and they begin to complain. They want food, water. They want to go back to Egypt, where life wasn’t so hard, where food was easy to come by. Sound familiar? How many of us are waiting anxiously for the end of Passover, for that piece of bread? How many of us complained about the cleaning the preparation?

In parshat Beshalach, the Israelites experience a continuum of emotions; fear, gratitude, excitement, disappointment, awe, dread, discomfort, and joy. It is a lot to take in for a people so new to freedom. Parshat Beshalach is about finding the balance between these emotions on our journey throughout life.

We stand here, on the brink of our own transition. We’ve cleaned out the chametz, cleaned out the clutter and dirt of our homes. We’ve made it 6 days out on the journey. Passover stands on the balance of rebirth and renewal, will we go back to our old ways, or will we take the leap of Nachshon Ben Ami Nadav? Will we follow the pillar of fire, the light of Torah as we embark on our journey towards Shavuot and Matan Torah? We’ve come far on the journey, 6 days done, we’ve almost made it across the point of no return. Here we stand at the edge of Passover, we’ve done the hard work, how will we emerge?

As Passover comes to an end, as we cross the Sea of Reeds and embrace the freedom that comes with it, may we experience this transition, as not, running way from what was, but running towards what will be. May we be blessed on this journey with foresight. As we enter this Shabbat of transition, may we find ourselves surrounded by the warmth of the pillar of Fire that is Torah, may we be blessed with the strength to follow the sometimes challenging path that leads towards the future.

SHABBAT SHALOM!

Surreal

2008-04-20T21:43:00.003-05:00

it feels surreal, like he's just in the bedroom, taking a nap. He'll be up in a minute. At times it's like this past summer never happened, we're just the girls, getting ready for passover, he's just in the next room, preparing himself. and then the seder comes, and he's not leading it, I am. I expect him to walk in, sit down, and in his own way, lead the seder. I try so hard to live up to his example, to make him proud, to continue the tradition. but i wish, i would give anything for him to lead it again. Did I really do a good job? Did I remember all the pieces, did I do it right? did i add enough of my stuff? did i keep enough of his?
I come home and I expect to see him waiting for me, give me a hug, welcome me home. It doesn't feel real, but it's all too real.

8 months

2008-04-18T15:13:00.001-05:00

8 months ago, tomorrow, he died. Tomorrow, I'll lead the Seder for the first time. I'll step into his role. His last email to me was about passover, about wanting to lead the Seder together, lead for a new generation, for our family. Last year, I was in Jerusalem, our family was scattered, not tegher for seder. this year, we're here, but missing a piece. It is hard to believe that 8 months ago my life was so different. And now, i sit here, anticipating another first without him.
I'm sitting outside, on our new deck, taking in the gorgeous Michigan spring- and I feel unexpectedly calm, peaceful. It's almost like he's here, lurking, watching over us, making sure we're o.k. laughing at our mistakes in covering the counters or making the charoset. And who knows, maybe tomorrow night when we open the door for Elijah, the smell of his cigarettes might pour into the room. Who knows!
Here's hoping I fill his shoes well and make him proud. He'll still be leading with me, in each of our hearts. As we embark on this journey from slavery to freedom, from clutter to open space, may we be disentangled from the chains of the past and soar freely into the days of our freedom and future.

RENEWAl, REBIRTH... REMEMBER

2008-04-10T10:49:00.002-05:00

A year ago, you were here, you both were here. A year ago, life was normal, comfortable, safe. I was in Petra, enjoying life, taking in the beauty of the world, amazed by the wonders of God's creations. You were in Detroit, celebrating your birthday, your anniversary, your life. Little did we all know within a matter of months, this life would be different.
This year, I prepare for Passover without you, without your support, energy, enthusiasm. This year, my passover cleaning is more about cleaning out the emotions, taking stock of how I feel, and the space you filled is ever more present.
Spring is about renewal, rebirth, and all I can do is remember. Remember what was, what I miss, what will never be again. I remember years past, years of love, happiness, joy, luaghter. This year, there will be no birthday phone call to you, daddy. this year, there will be no anniversary call to papa. This year, I am here, last year, I was in Jerusalem. Last year, you prayed we would be together again, you asked on God's will to lead a seder with me again. This year, we know this will never be the reality. While I will carry you in my heart, you will be there, you won't be there for a panicked moment before the seder to remind me of the kiddush nusach, you won't be there to argue with, to smile with my learning, to guide me. This year, when you tell your child on that day, you won't be there to tell me, you won't be there to bargain with for the afikomen.
This year, my rebirth is as a new person, a daddy's girl learning to live without her daddy. This year, we remember not only our going out from Egypt, but the loss of another generation at our seder table. This year, we welcome in, not only Elijah, and all who are hungry, this year we welcome in the spirit, and memory of another generation who has returned to the dust of the earth. This spring, the regrowth isn't just within nature, it is within ourselves, the healing of a broken heart.
This year, I am a slave to memory, a slave to mourning, a slave to my heart. This year, I go out from my own slavery, into the world anew, a world I don't know. I am a slave going into freedom, I am experiencing an exodus. I am scared, sad, confused and afraid...

The MeaningS of Life

2008-03-18T13:07:00.002-05:00

This past Shabbat I spent the weekend on a retreat with high school students delving into the possible meanings of life. Is it community? personal talent? prayer? wisdom? Friends? Education? How do we make our lives meaningful? What is the sign of a meaningful life?
At the same time, I have been listening to my father's Eulogy. What did I say about him, who was he, how will he be remembered? What did our rabbi say about him, how was he perceived outside the family? What was the meaning of his life? And then, there is that moment of worry, what is the meaning of my life, how will I be remembered? How do I want to be remembered?
7 months have gone by since I first heard my dad's eulogy, since I first thought about how to remember him, how I wanted to share his life with those who came to the funeral, how I wanted to share this incredible bond I have with him in the collective memory of my community. Each time I listen to his funeral service, I am proud and sad. Sad that he is lost in our world, that the work he was doing will never be completed, sad that his beautiful smile and loving soul will only live on through memory, not physicality. And at the same time, I am proud, proud of who he was, proud to call him my father, proud of how I memorialized him, proud of all that he did in the world. Is this how he wanted to be remembered? I don't know. Is this who he thought he was? I dont' know. But he was an incredible man, an inspiration to so many.
So, what is the purpose, meaning, business of life? I don't have the answer. Maybe it's doing the work that was done before us and continuing it throughout generations. our work is never done. Maybe it's finding that community that will overwhelmingly come out to support you in a time of need, to hear what your life is all about. Maybe life is about making meaningful connections, to people, to a higher being, to the world. Life is about living, however and whatever that means for each individual.

Not There

2008-03-10T10:55:00.002-05:00

Last week I had a moment where I longed to be in Jerusalem, where I wanted to be there, in Israel, in the city I had made my own a year ago. I felt guilty, I lived in Jerusalem for 9 months and not a single attack on my city, and here, a year later, 8 were murdered doing what I was doing. 8 innocent students, murdered while studying the same texts I study, sitting in a room. I feel guilty that I was safe, that I can learn safely here in America while my colleagues don't know what might happen as the day progresses. I am sad, for my city, my state, my people. I know life goes on, but this incident makes me think. What kind of a world am I living in, that innocent students become targets of political gain? Here in America college students are murdered on the side of the street for money, there in Jerusalem, for studying in the wrong place at the wrong time. Violence surrounds us, takes us by storm, and yet, we continue learning, we persevere. Learning at the yeshiva in Jerusalem will go on, learning at universities will continue.
I blogged before I left Israel about this guilt, this feeling of pain knowing that I was safe, I was "lucky," nothing happened while I was there. I still feel this way, I am not there, I can only share the pain, the disbelief from a distance. I can only hope that it will be good....

Unfinished business, a visit with daddy

2008-02-16T21:51:00.005-05:00

6 months ago your heart was still beating, your body warm, your stuff where you left it. 6 months ago you were here, your office was set up as you left it, your book waiting for you to return to finish it. 6 months ago your grave was still whole, unmarked, a plot of untouched land. Now it is there, covered in snow, marked only by your name and your dates.
it has been six months since my life changed, since my dad died, since my world view was drastically altered. I say this all in the passive as i really didn't have much to do with it. I didn't make him die, I didn't actively help the process along. But, now that it has happened, I have the ability to take control over how it changes me, how I move on and that is what I will do.
I am home for the long weekend, visiting with my mom and sister, getting a good dose of my community, my fan club, my home. As I was taking in my return to home I began with some of the usual rituals, coming home, rushing to morning minyan, running some errands, and then my day ended. It used to be that I would come home, run my errands and then visit with my papa, spend time with my dad, have him to talk to on and off as he sat in his office and I sat in my room. I was busy, I had people to see. now it is different. I can visit all 4 of my grandparents at the same time, and my dad. Instead of sipping tea together, I run in and out of the car, trying to stay warm while having a conversation, sharing my thoughts without their support or feedback.
The hardest part was writing my d'var torah for this Shabbat. I knew what I wanted to say, and yet I couldn't get the words out. In a moment of frustration I got in the car and drove out to visit the family. I said hi to my nana and papa, filled them in on the inner workings of my life. Next stop was grammy and zayde, they too got the scoop on what's been going on. Finally, I stopped at my dad. It was freezing outside, and yet I spent 20 minutes standing over his grave, yelling, crying, laughing. I practiced my torah reading, and he didn't' jump up and correct me, so I think I did alright. I filled him in on my life and thanked him for a gift that could only be from him. And then I sat there, staring at his name, recognizing the finality in what was before me. And I wrote, and wrote and wrote... I needed his inspiration, and I was truly inspired.
6 months ago, dad was expecting to come home. His papers still are strewn around his office, he to do list still on his nightstand from his last day, the day I spent with him. 6 months ago he had dreams, plans, appointments. I MISS HIM, I wasn't done loving him... I'll never be done, but I will go on... I can only hope that he will continue to inspire me!

D'var Torah: What is holy?

2008-02-16T21:36:00.001-05:00

Here is a D'var Torah I gave Friday night at dinner after services, with only a few hours notice! Enjoy, and note that actual delivery was slightly different than the written word!

One of the things my classmates and I often joke about is that while rabbinical school may train us to be rabbis, we should write a book, “what to expect when you’re expecting: to become a Rabbi.” No one told me that anytime I came home, I’d be rabbi in residence for the weekend. When Mickey asked me to teach at dinner tonight, I gladly accepted and then realized I had to have something profound, interesting, stimulating and totally different from my d’var torah in services to say. So, if you didn’t like the first teaching, try this one on for size!

This week’s parshah, Tetzaveh is all about holy vestments, the holiness of the sacrifices, the priests. But, what is holy? ANSWERS/Discussion

What makes something holy?

I ask because whenever someone asks this question it seems we all say the same thing, sacred, special, separate, but none of those answers really define what is holy? What is Kadosh? In the parshah, it states that you should do something with the sacrificial meat because they are holy, but it always leaves me hanging with the question of why. I have been thinking about this on a daily basis, and I haven’t been able to come up with a word or two to describe what makes something holy for me.

As I was thinking about what to say tonight, I started reflecting on what makes our community, Adat Shalom holy for me. I can’t wait to come home and return to this great place, so there has to be a reason. I came up with 4 words or phrases that match the root letters KUF DALED and SHIN in Kadosh.

First, KUF: Kavannah and Keiruv. For me, something is Kadosh when it has kavannah, an intention, there is purpose to it, and this purpose brings it meaning. Kuf for me also stands for Keiruv, the Jewish principle of welcoming people into the community. We sang Shalom Aleichem at the beginning of dinner, welcoming in the ministering angels of the Kadosh Baruch Hu; of the holy one blessed is his name- Kadosh in welcoming. As we sit here tonight, we are a group who has chosen to come together, get to know one another, make the community of Adat Shalom a little bit smaller.

The second letter, DALED for me represents DOR V’DOR, generation to generation. Something is Kadosh because of the nostalgia, significance it carries from generation to generation. When we say the Kedushah in our Amidah, one of our central prayers, we praise God in the transference of our traditions from generation to generation. How often is a talit given to a grandchild from a grandparent? A Kiddush cup? A synagogue community. Just as the priestly garments are Kadosh because they are passed on l’dor v’dor, so to our community is Kadosh because we have existed and welcomed l’dor v’dor. I am proof of that.

Finally, the third letter, SHIN represents Shalem, the root word we have in both the word Shalem for completeness but also Shalom for peace. Something is Kadosh when it is complete. We are here, sitting together bringing an end to our week, completing the work we were meant to do and moving into a space of rest and peace. Adat Shalom is a complete community, our synagogue offers services for every moment of life, and celebrates those occasions where we feel a sense of completeness and peace.

As we eat together and welcome in Shabbat, we are performing a holy act. Each of you has chosen to join this community, Adat Shalom, this congregation of peace for all that it offers. For me, this is kadosh.

And so, I leave you with the same question I began with, some food for thought, what makes something holy for you? How is your life holy?

SHABBAT SHALOM!

D'var Torah: Finding your inner Priest

2008-02-16T21:34:00.002-05:00

Here is a D'var Torah I gave Friday night at services. Enjoy and not that actual delivery varied from the written word!

Do you ever have a day where you just can’t decide what to wear? You try on a plethora of outfits, but nothing seems to look right? Feel right?

I know I’ve had those days. In fact, when I was younger, I used to spend hours engaging in what my parents referred to as the “fashion show.” This involved me trying on a variety of outfits, trying to find the best one to wear the next day. It didn’t matter whether it was for school, for shul, for dance class or to play outside and be covered by my jacket. I had to have the perfect outfit, the perfect way to present myself to the world. My parents lovingly and valiantly put up with this routine for many years. My dad would always respond with, “You look Marvelous!”

But, it always had to do with what I was putting on my body, how I was presented physically to the world. Sometimes, I think it might have been easier if I had been given a uniform, something set to wear. If I were a Kohen, I actually wouldn’t have had to do a fashion show, but I’m not a Kohen, I’m not even a levite, I’m an Israelite, I get to choose what I wear.

In our parsha this week, Parshat Tetzaveh, the priests, and their children are spared from the nightly fashion show because the priestly uniform is described. An all in one uniform, the most popular pieces are the breast plate of decision, complete with the urim and tumim, to help you make any decision. You might know these today as the Magic 8 ball. Another favorite piece is the Ephod, this beautiful coat comes with a variety of colors, crimson, blue, green, yellow, and is adorned with the finest Lapis stone set in solid gold. But, the best selling piece yet is the pure blue robe, complete with bells.

The priestly garments distinguish them from the Israelites, from the commoners. Their clothing speaks volumes about their status, about who their family is, about their legacy. At the same time, it tells us nothing about them. The entire parshah is filled with different instructions for how to make the garments, how to act as a priest, what to do with the garments. But, it never tells us about Aaron and his sons. Instead of learning about who the priests are, what they are like on the inside, columns of the Torah are spent detailing their elaborate wardrobe.

My question is why? Why did we hear so much about the specifics of the tabernacle last week? Why is it so important that the priests have this elaborate dress? The simple answer is so that they are easily recognized, they are seen as separate, and the people know the hierarchy. But, when I thought about it more, I think these details are there as a reminder of whom we are.

Each of us is created Betzelem elohim, in the image of God. We have the Godly spark housed within our bodies. And, while the garments are purely on the outside, are purely material, they are also adorning the uniqueness of God’s creation in our bodies. What we put on our outsides, what materials we use to adorn our bodies represents how we feel about our insides. And as cliché as it sounds, it is what’s on the inside that counts.

Our parshah begins with the discussion of the Ner Tamid, the eternal flame. The rabbis describe this flame as being caused to burn continuously. This is the light that we have in every sanctuary, physically representing a recreation of the mishkan, the tabernacle. But, I would argue that each of us also has a Ner Tamid. Each of us has a flame that burns within, our passion, our soul, our gift to the world. Each of us chooses to present ourselves to the world through both our Ner Tamid and our priestly garments. The care we take to dress our physical being shows our respect for ourselves, our personality, our individuality. But the words we speak when presenting ourselves identify us as God’s creation, as individuals, allows our Ner Tamid to burn through.

As we enter into Shabbat Tetzaveh, may we be blessed to bask in the flame of the Ner Tamid. May we find the strength to not only look marvelous on the outside, but recognize the inner desires that make each of us unique and magnificent in our own way.

Man in the Mirror

2008-02-11T01:46:00.000-05:00

Tonight I attended the last of my "life-coaching' group meetings. I embarked on this journey about three months ago. When i decided to join the group, it was out of a need to change my life, to set realistic goals, to move forward out of the rut I was living in for the previous three months. The first activity we engaged in was creating our perfect day. We listed out what would make our day perfect, what we would do, who we would be with, what we would wear, etc. We created this using the unspoken goals, wishes and dreams each of us dreams about. We then made a list of 100 goals, things we wanted ot accomplish over the few weeks we would meet together and in the not so distant future. My goals were varied and repetitive at times. Some of them, i had control over, others, could only be accomplished by chance meetings and occurrences.
Last night, i reviewed me goals list and I actually accomplished half of my short-term goals. I feel so accomplished. When i began the program, I was at a crossroads, 3 months after my dad died, I didn't know where I was going. I was letting people tell me where i should be, what i needed, where i needed to turn for help. Each person told me to turn to someone else, some institution, therapy, groups. While these were all good ideas, they weren't ideas that worked for me. I needed to turn to myself, look inside myself, look at the person I saw in the mirror and help myself. In doing this, I changed my life for me, I am doing what is write for me, I am grieving in my own way; moving forward with the creativity and passion that is in my heart.
In the last three months, I have looked at the person in the mirror each morning, and I find myself moving a little bit closer to making those changes that I want to see in me. I am happy, and I am me!

Somewhere Over the Rainbow

2008-01-28T16:51:00.000-05:00

Here in Los Angeles we don't get much rain, we don't have thunderstorms and lightening. We don't have fall, pretty leaves changing colors, or the smell of spring very often. For the last week, it has been raining on and off. And anyone who knows me, knows that I have an obsession with rain, with storms, with weather. Part of this comes from growing up in the Midwest, where we have weather, seasons, storms. Part of it comes from my awe at the weather, at the importance of water and at the same time how damaging it can be. Part of it is from my awe and the creation of God, and the weather is just one more sign that God does exist. And, part of it is because when I was a little girl, my grammy and I used to spend hours driving in the car looking at snow covered streets, and the leaves changing and at storms coming in and out of our area.
I have so much enjoyed the rain, and by yesterday morning, I was ready for some sun. While we were on our way to teaching in our carpool, we took in the low clouds and the way they hit the mountains, we took in the eerie, God-like nature of the clouds, and then, out of nowhere, right in front of us was this beautiful rainbow. This wasn't just a small rainbow, but one that stretched on forever, each of the colors visible and vibrant. It was like a smile shining down on me. I usually take in the beauty of nature and think of my family who are no longer with me. I have been known to stare at the stars in the sky and look for the brightest one (other than the north star of course), and imagine that my grandparents were living there. But, this summer, after my dad died, I lost that ability. Yesterday, i found my awe, I fell in love with the rain again. The rainbow eventually faded into the sky and the day went on, rainy as always.
I thought about the rainbow as I slowly made my way to school this morning, wishing to see it again, and knowing that I couldn't be so lucky. That is, until I went to my first class and outside that window as an even bigger and brighter rainbow than yesterday. I think someone is smiling down on me. I think my covenant with God is made stronger by this, I think we are all in a good place.
Out of the rain, the storm, the floods, came a rainbow, the skies are blue, the air is clear, and life is good. May each of us find the rainbow that brings us new life!

Learning to Let Go

2008-01-28T01:15:00.000-05:00

In the past year I have spent much time learning to let go. Let go of past relationships, of past experiences, of my past. I have learned that I can't live there, that in order to survive, I must hold on to the past for what it was and look towards the future for what it can be. And i have been succeeding it this for the most part. It is scary to let go, scary to loose oneself in love, in life, in relationships, and at the same time, it is thrilling, and so incredible.
Letting go is really hard, and yet, I am realizing that if I don't let go, I can't more forward; and I really want to move forward. So, now, I will push, I will let go, I will close my eyes and fall into the unknown. Into that space that isn't cluttered with regrets of the past, with things that have no meaning anymore. I will let go, take the fall and hope to soar into the world.

5 months... Who am I? How will I mourn?

2008-01-18T20:00:00.000-05:00

5 months ago my daddy was here, well, his body was still alive at least. I look back at where I was a month, two months, three months ago, and where I am now, and I see myself in a completely new space. I am healing, or, at the very least, I am moving forward in the world, doing things to honor my father's memory, doing things to honor my life.
I have been thinking this week about what happened 5 months ago,
5 years ago this Shabbat, my sister celebrated her Bat Mitzvah. We came together as a family, happy, healthy, energetic, loving each other. We sang together, led services and celebrate life and Judaism. This year, I am reading the Aliyah I read for her bat mitzvah for the first time since that Shabbat. I have a feeling my dad will be listening to me and beaming with pride and joy just as he did then.

5 months ago my identity changed, I became a mourner, a girl whose father was no longer there to hug her, support her, praise her, love her. I became the girl who cries in the back of the room, the girl who speaks of her father in the present tense and immediately changes it to the past.

What's more, is that 5 months ago i began mourner, but only now do I consider myself a mourner. 5 months ago i had an expectation of what a mourner is, of what they do, and others had that same expectation of me. I shouldn't go to movies, I shouldn't listen to music, I shouldn't celebrate, I shouldn't cry in shul, I shouldn't talk about him all the time. I was expected to mourn as the tradition prescribes, and yet, surprisingly, I didn't find that to fit my mourning needs.

So, who am I, Eve the mourner? How will I mourn my daddy in a way that works for me? I will live my life, and dedicate my learning to him. I will cry when I miss him, and mostly, though you won't know it, I am the girl who cries, because she wishes her dad could see all that she loves. The girl who cries because of the missed opportunities, or because she is sad that she won't get to share the joys she is experiencing with her daddy. I am the girl who mourns openly, publicly. I am the mourner who some days wants nothing more than to speak about her daddy, share his life with others. And other days, wants nothing more than to cry in some one's arms about the deep pain that never leaves. I am the mourner that will live life and enjoy what the world has to offer as a way of honoring her father.

A moment in time....

2008-01-14T14:19:00.000-05:00

Over Shabbat, one of the service leaders called our attention to the notion that when saying the shema, some have the custom of saying each word with one full breath. Taking hte time to fully devote oneself to the word, the meaning, the history, the covenant. Taking a moment in time to be lost in words of Torah, a mantra of sorts.
for me, this moment in time brings great meaning. The shema is supposed to be the last thing that a Jew says, the final words, the final affirmation of belief in God and our traditions. Most people never get the chance to have this final moment in time My papa had this chance. He took all of his strength, all of his last energy and put it into belting out the shema as his body shut down. As the morphine dripped into his system, a bit too late, he said the shema, and took his final breath.
28 days after this, I sat with my father, at his bedside as he took his final breaths. He wasn't conscious, his strength had gone, but I sat with him, and said the Shema. I affirmed for him in me what our expression of faith is he had long ago told me that this is our expression of faith, we can't change our destiny, we accept it and believe and trust in God. Another moment in time, each word led to the next, to that final space.
I don't think I take enough time each day to take in the world around me, the moon, the sky, my friends, family, my smile. But, I try, each morning and evening to take a moment in time to say the Shema. It is the utterance of those 6 words that place me in a moment in time that I will forever cherish. It is these 6 words that reaffirm my belief in God, in man and in myself. I will understand it one day, I will hear the world around me, I will find God in my daily life.

Into the Ocean.... of my year

2008-01-01T21:41:00.000-05:00

In the last few weeks I have spent many days at the ocean. Some days and nights in Santa Monica listening to the waves, watching the birds, feeling the water skim by my feet. Watching the water move in and out, wondering about where the water has been. Today, I went with my friends T and A who have been staying with my from New York for the past week to Rancho Palos Verdes. We first went and saw a beautiful, Swedenborgian chapel with all the precious beauty that it holds. Then we continued along the coast to Donald Trump's golf course and traveled along the public beach trail. The views were magnificent. We took some time, and took in the sights and sounds and I began to reflect on my year.
"The waves rush in and out, Eli Eli She'lo yigamer haolam, hachol v'hayam, rishrush shel hamayim... My God, I pray that these things never end, the sand and the sea, the rush of the waters... Hannah Senesh knew what she was talking about when she wrote these magnificent words. The waves rush, hurried, heavy, the slam into the rocks, rushing, exploding, they hit the end and way back and forth.

These waves, so calming and sweet in their sounds are my year. It rushed, hurried, full force, pushing wildly, unyielding, rushing- then it hit the rocks, slamming into the rocks, the trauma, the obstacles, the sadness- it reaches a violent halt, and then the calm sets in.
The tears rushed like the ocean, pouring out, flowed without end, and then, they too ceased, hit that breaker, nothing is coming, there is nothing left.
That year is over, it hit the breaker, this year begins with a calm stream. Picking up the pebbles as it flows. It is calm, peaceful, nearly perfect. I am sure there will be waves, but maybe I am ready this year. This year, I will surf the waves, ride them out, this year the ocean will not win.

New Year?!?!

2007-12-24T16:51:00.000-05:00

It appears I've made it to another stopping point, another breaking point, to the near end of another year. 2007, a year I most certainly will never forget. And, what a year it has been. From the beginning with a fantastic night with my friends in Jerusalem, staring out over the Knesset and taking in the beauty of that wonderful country. To trips to Petra and all over Israel, discovering myself as I discovered the land that I love so much. From the friendships made and broken, the new experience it has been an incredible year. I want so badly to think of 2007 as a great year, even with all the tragedy that it held for me.
It is amazing how this has probably been one of the best years of my life, and at the same time, the worst year of my life. And yes, I have smiled, laughed and grown more than ever before, but I have also cried, screamed, and hurt more than my share.
Do I want this year to be over? I don't know. I keep thinking nothing can be worse than this year, nothing can hurt more than losing my daddy and my grandfather. Things can only get better from here, and yet, I don't know if I am ready to move forward into a new calendar year. My whole way of speaking will be changed, "my dad died last year" I will say. But, i'm not sure I am ready to say that, I'm not sure I am ready to leave this year behind. I had so many dreams and aspirations for 2007, and many of them were met, but so many of them were not and I'm not ready to let go of that just yet.
In a week the calendar will begin again, I will go through the cycle of the secular year without my daddy and papa. And, though I am pretty sure it won't be as hard to celebrate this as it was for Rosh HaShannah, but it will be hard. I won't be receiving a silly email in my in box from my daddy, his voice won't be on the other end of the phone when I call home to wish my family a happy new year. I will begin my first calendar year without my daddy, with a new sense of family.
In a few days, the new year will begin, and my resolution is to make it through the year, to find myself as I am today, and grow into that new self!
May this new year bless all of us with health and happiness, may we live and love like there is no tomorrow and make the best of today, because we never know what tomorrow will bring.

A letter...

2007-12-17T14:27:00.000-05:00

Daddy,
It has been four months since you took your last breath in this world and I miss you now more than ever. I am filled with wonder, what would you tell me now, what would the emails have said, would my grades have been better, how could you have helped me through this semester. I wonder how you would have enjoyed the material I am learning, what great brainstorms we would have had. How much of this did you already know? How much of this would excite you? I miss hearing your voice and your gentle but forceful words of encouragement, of support and of love. I wonder what you are doing, how you are filling your days. Do you miss us? Can the soul miss someone or something? Are you watching me?

Sometimes I wish I could feel your presence, I crave the knowledge that you are always with me, but I want it in a physical sense. I am constantly searching for you, trying to think of what you'd say to me, how you would phrase something. I try to remember the fun we had together, the learning we did, and then I try to think about how you'd respond to my problem or challenge of the moment. I try to bring you into my everyday, I try to hold you close and never let you go. I try to ground myself with the roots you gave me, and spread my wings to soar into a new place, and unknown place that terrifies me.

Daddy, I miss you every day. I think of you and your smile, and the joy I brought you, and you brought me. I am broken hearted, some days I am empty, taken over with the grief and sadness i feel when I remember you won't answer your phone. I wonder if you were ready to go, I wonder what you wanted to do that you never got to accomplish, and can I do it for you? How can I honor your memory? How can I share the great man that you were, that you are to me?
You probably already know these things, what I'm thinking, what I miss, what's going on.
Daddy, I want you to know that I am o.k., that I am trying to smile again. I, your "beautiful redhead" am trying to make it through, taking it one day at a time, some times minute by minute, but I will go on, I will make it through. I want you to know that I will never forget you, and that now, as I find your letters and tapes, we are having some incredible conversations. I want you to know how much like you I am, how much I admire you and love you.
Daddy, I love you and wish you were here, and Daddy, I'm glad you are at peace.
Alright Daddy, time to go take my final final of the semester, I'll write more to you later!
I LOVE YOU DADDY, ALWAYS!

באהבה
מותק איב

When I Was Younger

2007-12-06T11:29:00.000-05:00

It's times like the holidays when I wish I was younger. I miss the carefree days where Hanukkah was about the miracle of the oil and the Maccabees weren't such a historical entity, but a childhood story. I miss the family Hanukkah parties where my cousins and I all got together, when we went shopping for gifts with my grammy and zaide, the latkes my nana made that were lacy and crispy on the outside. I miss the dreidle game my dad made, and the grab bag Hanukkah party with the cousin's club. I miss the past, I am clinging to my memories, trying to make them as vivid as I can, trying to make them real. What I wouldn't give for another taste of those latkes, another family gathering.

I am mourning the past, I am mourning my childhood. The innocence and simplicity that was, is no more. Everyday, I face these memories that haunt and enlighten me. I miss them, I miss my family.

So Much to Do, So little time

2007-12-05T14:11:00.000-05:00

IN the last few weeks I have been touched with a bit of writers block when it comes to my obligatory school work, and a insurgence of creativity in my aspirations for the future and my programmatic ideas. And now, as finals are approaching, I have no creativity to writ emy papers and an overwhelming sense that I am stuck, with not quite the resources to move forward in my aspirations for the Jewish world, and at the same time, so energetic I want to go run right now and start making a difference.
I want to creat etwo video games, write a book, change the face of Jewish education, educate on grief, create programs that bring people into Judaism and excite them about all the possibilities that the future holds for us. I want to ignite the flame in someone else, and have that flame pass from person to person and burn as a torch for Judaism. And, SOOOO MUCH MORE. I want to create a family haggadah that will enable my family to move forward out of theses months of tragedy and into a new phase, of life, tradition and change. I want to strengthen my father's memory in my life, and make him proud. I want to make myself proud, I want to grow, I want to live, I want to laugh, I want to love.
I have all of these wants, wishes, dreams, and then all of this school work that will help foster me to get there and at the same time feels like it is holding me back from getting on with my work in the world. The daily dilemmas of my life these days... of to write another paper!

Death is about the living

2007-11-18T16:54:00.000-05:00

Yesterday morning a close friend and classmate passed away after a year long battle with Lukemia. He fought valliantly, but no amount of effort or modern medicine can outsmart God. He leaves behind three small children and a wonderful life.
All of this comes close to the 3 month anniversary of my own father's death. His death after 7 years of fighting various illnesses and in the end losing his battle in a similar way to my friend. Both of them died of septic shock, both of them had too many illnesses and challenges to overcome. Both of them fought as hard as they could, and lost.
So, what is this all about? this is about me struggling the last 3 months to matter in a community who nearly turned their back on me when I needed them the most. I know there are differences, my friend was an actual member of the "community", my father never was a part of the community. BUT, I AM, and I needed support and never received it.
Last night, someone asked me what do we do now? I responded, take care of the living. LIFE, CHOOSE LIFE the torah commands us... SO, CHOOSE THE LIVING, SUPPORT THEM, LOVE THEM, TALK TO THEM. Death is the end of one life, but without support, those who are left behind can't go on, can't live and honor the person who has passed.
Maybe now, instead of ignoring me, people will talk to me, support me? Support the living, support those of us who can be helped, support the future. TALK, ASK IN A MONTH, A FEW MONTHS, HOW ARE YOU? DON'T STOP!

the NON-KADDISH MINYAN

2007-11-13T09:52:00.000-05:00

There is a phenomenon known as the Kaddish Minyan, the space, where a majority of those who make up the minyan, the community are mourners or recent mourners. There is a sense of shared experience, shared pain, a sense of belonging and welcoming. In a Kaddish Minyan, the mourner, the Kaddish sayer is not alone, they are supported, uplifted by the community, they know others have been there, and understand the importance of the experience.

I go to the Non-Kaddish Minyan. I go to a minyan for people who go for themselves, to pray for themselves, to fulfill an obligation to a greater power. I go to a place where I am the only voice when I say Kaddish, Me, and me alone. Sometimes, the community is so lost in their own place, that they don't respond to the kaddish. What's the point of saying Kaddish in a minyan if that minyan doesn't respond, neither to the words of the Kaddish prayer, nor to the needs of the mourner. In the Non-Kaddish Minyan, no one shares my experience, no one is willing to reach out, acknowledge the toughness of my days. Not to be "ME" centered, but very few people in this minyan are there for me.

My Non-Kaddish Minyan is in a space that is convenient for me, in a place I frequent daily. Perhaps a minyan of convenience isn't the minyan for a Kaddish Sayer who wants support. This minyan espouses the values of community, but rarely acts on it to support one another through a challenging time. Given a celebration, that's another story. In this minyan, the focus is on the davening, the praying, doing it right, getting it done, checking it off the mitzvah list, not on supporting one another, helping one another, growing together. What is so hard about this is that in this espoused community, we are growing the future community leaders. Leaders who can't find 10 minutes on a Sunday evening to support a fellow member of their community. Leaders who are into their davening, but not into their hearts. Leaders who create a "community" of emptiness, of cliques, of alliances, of levels of importance for people. Not, leaders who create a space to help each other mourn and grow, who help one another to become stronger, out of the tragedy and into a triumph.

This is the Non-Kaddish Minyan. Perhaps I'll say Kaddish alone, in a space where I can live with myself, support myself, grow with myself, and feel included, instead of in the space where I am on the outside, shunned, that girl whose father died... that girl who wanted to teach people.

Perkei Avot reminds us not to separate ourselves from the community, but I wonder, what happens when the community separates themselves from you? What happens when you try to be apart of the community that doesn't want you, that doesn't support you, that doesn't create a space you want to be in, or can be in?

Separate not thyself from the community? This is only possible in a community that recognizes itself as a place to be and grow- this is not the Non-Kaddish Minyan.

D'var Torah: Pico Egal Parshat Vayera

2007-11-03T21:31:00.000-05:00

Do you ever feel alone? Traveling on a journey with no guide? Going into the unknown? Or, do you sometimes feel like someone is watching you? Silently guiding you? Do you feel like you’re being followed? If Abraham were to take the MMPI, that wonderful personality inventory, his answers might be troublesome for the program he was applying to. These are questions Abraham might have grappled with in our Parshah. In parshat Vayera, God’s presence is known, only when God calls out, and acts from behind the curtain. Abraham journeys, with a silent partner, God, lurking in the bushes, calling out from the sky, silently guiding the journey.

Our parshah has many different images of God accompanying Abraham, Sarah, and Hagar. It begins with Abraham and Sarah minding their business in the desert as Abraham heals from his recent circumcision, and all of the sudden these three messengers from God appear, are welcomed in and invade their space. Next, we come upon the events of Sodom and Amora, God puts Abraham to work again, but the task is not easy, and the righteous people are nowhere to be found.

Abraham must have known he was special before this, All this God calling out to him, special directions, fathering a child at an incredibly old age, and yet, there is no mention of his acknowledgement of this. Abraham continues on after the failed attempt at saving Sodom and Amora and moves onto his encounters with Avimelech. Abraham and Avimelech make an oath, who points out to Abraham that God is with him in all that he does. A powerful message evidenced by the encounters with God of Sarah, Hagar, and Abraham.

Once again, Abraham moves on with his life, as God Calls out to him to take his son, his only son, the son that he loves, Isaac and sacrifice him. Abraham exhibits an incredible amount of faith and takes Isaac with him to Mount Moriah. And then, as he is about to commit the aultimate act of trust in God, God calls out to him once more, and this time, Abraham answers HINENI, HERE I AM, I AM HERE, READY, I BELIEVE.

God calls out, and Abraham answers, ready to serve, ready to follow his leader. Abraham is not alone, on every task, God accompanies Abraham, a silent partner, until the time is right to intervene.

“You are not alone, I am here with you” Michael Jackson may have made these lyrics popular, but parshat vayera, our portion, this week teaches us more about this concept and God than any Michael Jackson song ever could. When we are alone, or feeling alone, perhaps we need to take the time to look for the HINEINI moments in our lives. Perhaps God Is calling out to us, we just can’t quite hear it. Perhaps, we must engage in this dialogue, and take a second to recognize as Avimelech did: God is with you in all that you do!

As we enter into Shabbat, Vayera, may we be blessed with the strength and ability to see those things we are too busy to see during the week, to hear those subtle voices of a silent traveling companion, and to stand up with courage and say HINENI, HERE I AM, ready to do my part in the world. May we never feel alone, and recognize that God is here with us.

SHABBAT SHALOM!

10 weeks- Let's Talk

2007-10-26T17:13:00.000-05:00

My address to my M.A. ED. Community:

This week’s parshah speaks of many different facmous biblical stories. It begins with the messengers visiting Abraham in his tent after his circumcision. From this event, we can derive the most basic sense of what Bikur Cholim, visiting the sick is. We visit those who need healing, hoping to lift their spirits. For Abraham, this event took place shortly after he made a journey to a new land, an unknown land. Abraham was experiencing the world anew, alone, and these visitors became his momentary community.

This section of the parshah speaks to me, I am like Abraham. 10 weeks ago, many of you spent the week getting to know one another on a new journey, making new community, experiencing and taking in this exciting new year. 10 weeks ago, while this was happening, I was sitting in my father’s hospital room. Raw after a month of mourning for my grandfather, scared. On July 22^nd, my papa passed away, a great loss to me. 4 days later, during his Shiva, my father lead mincha, what was to be his last conscious act, and then was rushed into the ICU in septic shock. 10 weeks ago, I sat at his bedside, waiting for the breathing machine to be taken away, praying for him to heal, and knowing he probably wouldn’t, I spent 60 hours at his bedside, watching him, talking to him, holding him and waiting. 10 weeks ago, while you were beginning this journey, coming back to a familiar place, my world was jolted and torn apart, I spent the week mourning the loss of my father, my teacher, my best friend.

9 weeks ago, I came back to LA, back to school, but to a new community, on a new journey. Many of you only know me as I am today, a mourner, broken, lost, scared. And with all that was happening in our world, life went on, and I went on carrying the grief in my heart. I want to share with you just a little bit about where I am at, and propose a few ways to help me.

I am a mourner, when my daddy died I not only lost my father, but I lost my teacher, my best friend. He was my partner, my pair in the family, my support when I needed help solving a challenge. I am here, but I feel alone. Many mornings, it takes all my energy and faith to get out of bed and make it to minyan and school. Some days, I just want to cry all day, but I don’t, because I have to go on. And then I learn all of these incredible theories, models, frameworks, and I pick up the phone to call my father, and then I remember, he won’t answer.

I stand here, and most of you only a few minutes ago began to hear just a sliver of what I was going through and continue to carry with me when I arrived here. 10 weeks is too long to not talk. We are here because we are going to be Jewish leaders, make a difference, educate. One of my father’s most important lessons for me is that I can learn and teach from every moment in life. This tragedy, this pain, this loss for me can help each of us.

In many ways, I feel alone because no one here knows me. So, here is your permission, and a request- ask me how I am, ask me about my father, about my mourning practices. If you want to know about my dad, what happened, anything, I am more than happy to share, the gifts of his life and the challenges of his health. I need a little pushing and pulling, and I need help. My journey through my father’s illnesses lasted 7 years, but throughout that time, He was my number one fan, my confidante and my best friend, He taught me so much about myself and the world, and It is so hard to go on without him.

I very much hope that this is not the end of the conversation, but the beginning. I hope to share with you my journey, and help each of us grow into the leaders we will be one day. My daddy always taught me to make the best of the situation, everything can be learned from, and most of all that his memory should be for a blessing. His life was about people, helping people, caring for people and talking with people. I hope we can talk. I hope I can share the blessings of his life, and my blessings of having him in my life with you.

Let us learn from Abraham and the messengers. Help me heal, grow and move forward so that I too can enjoy this wonderful journey.

60 days- ON a New Journey

2007-10-26T17:08:00.000-05:00

My Address to the Rabbinical School Minyan:

Lech Lecha,

This week, we read about Abraham, the famous story. As Debbie Friedman puts it: “To a land that I will show you, to a place you do not know…” and it goes on. Every year as I read this parshah I am compelled to look at a journey, my journey, where am I going, why am I going there.

This year, the journey that I am on is very different than last, and much more difficult. As most of you know, My father passed away 60 days ago tomorrow. The journey that I am on this year is painful, is new, is lonely. As my dad blessed me two years ago on Shabbat lech lecha “As Avram is commanded to make his journey into an unknown future may you continue on your own journey. But unlike Avram you know that you do not travel alone – that you have the love and support of family, friends, so many people and clergy from shul and k’lal Yisrael.”

On all my other journeys, I went with the support of my father, my grandfather, who also passed away 28 days before my father, my family. This year, I am journeying without my pillars of strength into an unknown land.

And, although the place is familiar, the journey is new. And on this journey, I find myself experiencing new things, new feelings, and new spaces. Many of you I have just met, and only know me as I am now, a mourner, Many of you don’t know my story, don’t’ know about my father, the man I am mourning so very deeply. This community feels new, even foreign sometimes.

One of my father’s favorite Mishnayot in Perkei Avot states: SEPARATE NOT YOURSELF FROM THE COMMUNITY” and yet, here, I find myself on many occasions separating myself from our community, or unintentionally feeling like an outsider. So, I’d like to take just a few minutes to share with you some things I have been feeling, noticing, and needing to tell you. This is me, as I stand here today.

1. Kaddish: One of the hardest parts of my day is saying the kaddish. I often feel like the “Last Man Standing,” alone in the room. When I have thought about Kaddish before, I always envisioned being with a Kaddish Minyan, in a space where I would almost never be the only voice. I would have the support of a community, going through similar phases. Instead, I am blessed to say Kaddish in a community that is aware of the ins and outs of mourning, and a community where I am the only mourner, a special status. Some of you may have noticed that I often say it with my eyes closed. I do this for 2 reasons. The first is because I want to see my father’s face, my grandfather’s smile, and have a moment in time with them. Sometimes I am successful with this, sometimes I end up having flashbacks of my father’s last days in the hospital. The second reason is because I am uncomfortable. I often feel alone and as if a thousand eyes are staring at me, piercing me, and I just want to run. I know you probably don’t intend to make me feel that way. In fact, you probably look to show me you support me, but sometimes it just feels so off putting, It makes me feel so outside.

2. I cry, a lot, and it doesn’t necessarily mean that something happened. Most of the time, it’s just because I am grieving, and it hits me in waves. Some days I’m pretty o.k and most days, I struggle. You should know that I grew up in the shul, sitting next to my father and grandparents. So much of who I am, and why I want to be a rabbi is tied to these memories. I hear my father’s voice teaching me to be the Shatz, I remember conversations we have had about prayer, in fact the last coherent conversation I had with my father was about my feelings on prayer these days. To add to it, my grandfather’s literal last words were the shema, and my father’s last conscious act was leading Minchah at my grandfather’s shiva. This is the way of my family. I have always had a deep emotional attachment to prayer, and so, sometimes, I cry. I can’t help the tears, and I can’t stop them, they just creep up on me. The best thing to do is just support me, ask me how I am, smile at me, sometimes I just need a hug and let me cry

3. Talking. I love to share myself with others. But, sometimes I can’t start the conversation. I am finding it very easy to retreat to myself and my studies, and often separate myself out. What I’m asking is for a little support, if you want to. Ask me how I am, I won’t be offended. If I answer with “breathing” it’s because that’s the best I can do that day… just keep asking

4. Grieving: While Shiva lasts 7 days and my shloshim were cut off by Rosh HaShanah, I am still very much grieving. I never fully dealt with my Papa’s passing and then on top of it am forced to deal with my father’s death. I am still very much in the beginning stages of this process. And in many ways, I did not grieve with “my community.” My grieving was manipulated and shaped by my families expectations of me. As I journey down this road of grief and healing, I invite you to join me, help me, and support me as I create my own process of grieving here.

5. If you want to know about my dad, what happened, anything, I am more than happy to share, the gifts of his life and the challenges of his health. I need a little pushing and pulling, and I need help. My journey through my father’s illnesses lasted 7 years, but throughout that time, He was my number one fan, my confidante and my best friend, He taught me so much about myself and the world, and It is so hard to go on without him.

I know this is a lot to take in, but as part of this community, as a member of our journey, I wanted to let you in, share myself with you, welcome you into my journey.

60 days- time is inconsistent

2007-10-19T13:50:00.000-05:00

30 days dragged by, each day felt slower and slower. they seemed long, unending, I can't believe it's only been 30 days I would often think. It felt like an eternity. And now, here I am 60 days into this, 60 days since I've seen my father, 60 days since he drew in his last breath and moved from this world to the next. And I can't believe how quickly these past 30 days have gone. They have flown by, one day blending into the next, a blur, thrown together, no breaks. The days run by at a lightning pace, no end and no beginning.
This week, while less painful than last, I am angry. I have this overwhelming sense that daddy wasn't ready to go, he wasn't quite there yet. And, while I know it was time, I know his body had no fight left in it, I think he was still ready to fight, willing to push forward if his body hadn't given in. I wish i had more time with him, i wish I could have learned more from him!
60 days, and it is not any easier!

FLASHBACK

2007-10-09T10:01:00.000-05:00

Flashback: His face, smiling, Flashback: his hospital room, Flashback: calming him, Flashback: Dr-"he's dying," Flashback: the tubes are gone, Flashback: maybe he'll wake up?, Flashback: hard, heavy, labored breathing, Flashback: 6:50am, her voice, "HE'S GONE," she screams.
Flashback: his peaceful body, drapped in his talit, his look serene, his body-at peace, but his soul is gone. Flashback: his funeral, tears of despair, pain, grief. Flashback: Silence, no words, nothing can be said, nothing can comfort. Flashback: a flood of childhood memories. His voice resonates in my head, "sweetheart, I love you," "Motek Sheli, My beautiful redhead, I miss you," He says over and over again. "I miss you too, Daddy, I love you too!"

Only now, these are flashbacks, images and sounds that flood my mind, cloud my thinking, disable me momentarily from participating in the world. Flashbacks that hit me when i least expect them. Flashbacks that haunt my dreams. How do I move beyond these flashbacks, these moments that hurt so bad? How do I move forward, to a place where the memories are strong, pleasant, helpful? Flashbacks, of a time of so many emotions, so much healing ot be done, so much grieving, so many emotions trapped inside, trapped in my heart, in my head, afraid to come out, suppressed. Flashbacks that reveal so much of who I am and mark so many moments in time. Flashbacks, that are so real, so vivid, so promient that I feel them, feel what i fel tthen, see what iw as wearing, see who was thee, feel the feelings, smell the room, see his face. Flashbacks that feel more real than life itself; flashbacks that are my reality.

I want to remember, I want to smile, laugh, feel his warmth in my life. I want to forget the pain and feel the love. I want him back, but I know that will never happen. But, when do I get to feel his presence, feel like he is with me, when do I stop feeling alone and abandoned and start feeling his presence again, watching me, guiding me?

It's like a bad detox, flashbacks, chills, nightmares, when have I passed the point of pain, of struggle, of withdrawl, when do I begin to heal?

OUCH

2007-10-08T21:27:00.001-05:00

**DISCLAIMER: Family, you will read this and be worried, don't be, this is normal, these are my feelings and this is my outlet... if you don't like it, you don't have to read it**

Have you ever hurt so bad, you can't breathe, can't think, can't do anything but cry, and cry and cry? that's pretty much where I am. It hurts, my heart is broken, my body is empty. I have been strong for so long, and i can't anymore. I am weak, I am flawed, I am scared, I am alone. Because, when it comes down to it, there is no one I want to talk to, no one i feel I can open up to, no one who gets me. I don't want any of that, I want my daddy. I want my life back. I want to smile and laugh and not mark it as the first time in 6 weeks i've done it. I want to go to shul and smile and enjoy the davening, not break down in tears. I want to get in my car and sing and enjoy the open road, not cry and scream because it is the only place I can do it.
Instead, I feel trapped, I feel stuck in myself, stuck in a place where I am waiting for the world to move on, and I feel like I am still in the same place. I want to be able to do my work, soar, but instead, I am stuck, unable to move forward, unable to conquer the hurt.
So, I will sit here, feel the pain, the hurt, the burn, and hope that one day I can move forward to a new place, to a place where it hurts a little bit less.

Normal?!

2007-10-07T19:05:00.000-05:00

7 Sundays ago, my normal changed. I'm o.k.... but I'm wishing I was normal.
What I wouldn't give to be normal. But i don't even know what normal is anymore. I guess I was never normal, but now, I'm a part of this weird club, this group of people who's normal isn't what i want to be my normal. Now, i am without a parent, without my daddy, without a father. Now, my normal isn't the same. Normal used to be waiting by the phone for that call, waiting to here from my mom about my dad, about my grandfather (papa). Normal used to be worrying, saying Misheberach. Normal used to be calling my daddy and discussing the texts I was learning, calling my Papa to hear the pride in his voice and the smile on his face (yes, you could here him smile when he spoke). Normal used to be wishing for the pain to stop, but appreciating the time I had.
And then, within a month, normal isn't normal. I don't have to have my cellphone with me 24/7. It's freeing and terrifying. Normal used to be going home as much as I could because i didn't know how much time I had left with them, and now, I know.
Now, Normal hurts, normal is being sad, is having flashbacks of those final moments in the hospital, of the days i sat staring at my phone, hoping for good news, and knowing it wouldn't be. Now, normal is feeling alone, angry, sad, scared. Now, normal is wishing for the moment where i wake up from this terrible, horrible, no good, very bad dream.
Don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you've got till it's gone. Now, normal is gone, and I know what i had. It wasn't perfect, it wasn't happy all the time or even fair, but it was normal. All I want is to be NORMAL!

Don't Speak

2007-09-20T17:55:00.000-05:00

I feel like i am living in a world where I am not allowed to speak, where if I make a wrong move, don't step too carefully, say the "wrong" thing, I will be despised, kicked out, alienated. Don't speak, you can't feel that way. who gets to decide how I feel? since when are feelings wrong? Don't we each feel in our own ways because we are our own people, with our own minds, bodies, thoughts, sensations?
I am alone in my world, I am without my supporter, my teammate, my friend. I am trapped in a cycle of blame, of sorrow, of hate. I am trapped, nothing I do is right, nothing I do is fair, nothing I do matters. I am alone. Those who I thought cared for me, those who I thought would support me through crisis have turned on me. I spoke my mind, I acted out my feelings, I felt the world, I felt the changes, i feel the pain, I express myself, and it is all wrong.
Why do we have the need to critique other's feelings? what gives someone the write to tell someone that they are wrong? that they're words, unrelated to them cause pain? and for what? Wouldn't we all be better off if we allowed individuals to feel the way they feel, to grieve the way they grieve, and work on ourselves. Wouldn't we be better off without a holding a grudge? wouldn't we be better off if we loved one another for our uniqueness, for our distinct experiences of the same things? Wouldn't the world be a better place if we supported one another, if we tried to help, tried to understand another's point of view?
Here I am, on the brink of a day when I am supposed to forgive, to ask for forgiveness, but, my heart is too heavy, my words blocked. I can't act, I can't move, i can't connect. each time I try, I am wrong, I am the one at fault, my way isn't right, my intimate feelings aren't appropriate. How can I ask for forgiveness from someone who holds so much against me? How can I begin to ask to be forgiven if someone doesn't see me for who I am, but only what I do, how i react in grief? And so I stand here, frustrated, empty, sad, lost. I stand here without love and support from those closest to me because i am wrong, I feel wrong, I act wrong.
This year has to get better, because it can't possibly get any worse... ALONE!

30 days

2007-09-18T18:37:00.000-05:00

It's been 30 days since i have seen you, thirty days since you were here with me. 30 days ago you were in my life, you were my life, you were here. 30 days i have cried, missing you, more each day. 30 days have gone by but everything feels so different, so broken, so chaotic. I still hear your voice in my head, smell your scent of cologne and cigarettes, see your face when i close my eyes. I miss you more than i have ever missed before. I am broken, lost in the world, lost without you. So many times I pick up the phone to call you, only to be greeted by your voicemail, and the realization that you're not going to return my call. 30 days ago you were warm, breathing, in my arms, 30 days ago I held you, hugged you, kissed you.
So, what do I do? how do I go on? Life feels so different for me, but everyone around me is going on like nothing happened. For them, the world is the same, for me, the world is different, lonely, scary, the world is broken, my heart is broken.
30 days, and it doesn't feel real, I feel like I am living in a dream, a nightmare, this can't be reality. Only, I know that it is. 30 days gone by without you, daddy...

THE TEST

2007-09-15T20:46:00.000-05:00

Here is a copy of the D'var Torah i gave for Second Day Rosh HaShannah at my home shul! The actual presentation may have varied from the written text! ENJOY!

Indulge me if you will. Close your eyes. Picture yourself about to face the biggest challenge or test of your life. Are you scared? Nervous? Excited? Are you going to ROCK IT? Are you willing to do ANYTHING to pass? Hold those feelings.

Open your eyes. Here we are, standing on the starting line of a whole new test, a new year, a new challenge. Here we stand as the book of life is open wide, blank spaces waiting to be filled with our deeds. ARE YOU READY? Are you HERE?

Our torah reading for today, known as Akeidat Yitzhak, the binding of Isaac, details Abraham’s big test, his GRE, ACT, SAT, MCAT, take your pick. The portion begins with God putting Abraham to the test. He is told to take his son, his only son, his favored son, Isaac to a mountain and offer him up as a sacrifice. WHOA. This is quite the test. A voice comes from seemingly nowhere and informs Abraham that he is to sacrifice his own son, the one whom he has waited so long for, the one who was given to him as a gift (as we read yesterday).

I don’t know about you, but if this was me, I am not so sure I would be so eager to complete this test. But, Abraham, being the man of faith that he is answers God with a strong “HINEINI, Here I am.” Abraham is up to the task. He sets out with Isaac on the journey to Mount Moriah, and as they approach Isaac and Abraham take leave of their servants and begin father son bonding time as they hike up the mountain.

Now Isaac, being the inquisitive pre-teen that he was, starts to ask some obvious questions. Where is the animal for slaughter? Abraham answers in his own, faithful way, “God will see to the sheep for his burnt offering.” And Isaac accepts this as they continue on their way.

Abraham then prepares Isaac for the sacrifice, and just as he is about to commit the final act, taking the final test, an Angel, or messenger of God stops his hand. God calls out to Abraham and again he answers with “HINENI, HERE I AM!” What a close call. Abraham was about to make the ultimate sacrifice in his life for his faith, his belief in God. Abraham “Passes” God’s test and as a reward, is promised that He will be the father of a great nation, as numerous as the stars of heaven and the sands on the seashore.

The portion concludes with a genealogy of Abraham’s family. At first glance, the parshah appeared disjointed to me, first we read about this incredibly intense test of faith, and then, out of the blue we are thrown a genealogy. While I am still not exactly sure how this flows, I think the text hints at the importance of family. While Abraham was willing to sacrifice his own son, and while their father-son bond might never be the same, they are still family, they still have connections to one another.

So, why did the rabbis decide to read this portion on the second day of our new year?

Perhaps they chose this text to remind us of the challenges in our daily lives, to remind us that while life might be challenging, whereas we might be asked to do tasks we don’t want, don’t feel up to doing, there might be some greater purpose to these actions. maybe this is to remind us of our roots, our genealogy, our support system?

Perhaps this is our wake up call, our time to announce “HINEINI, HERE I AM” I am ready for the task, ready to face the year, ready to commit. These texts in our parshah today are challenging, they challenge the human nature, they challenge the boundaries of comfort, what are we willing to sacrifice?

This year, may we find the strength within ourselves to call out HINEINI, HERE I AM in the face of a challenge. May we find the strength to support those around us who are facing a challenge and may we be blessed with the gift of success as we fill the blank pages of the book of life.

G’mar Chatimah Tovah, may we all be sealed in the book of life!

Shanah Tova!

"Losing my Religion: The Challenges of the year"

2007-09-15T20:42:00.000-05:00

Below is a copy of the d'var Torah i gave first day Rosh HaShannah at my home shul. The actual presentation may have varied from the written text! ENJOY!

Shannah Tovah!

“That's me in the corner/ That's me in the spotlight /Losing my religion /Trying to keep up with you /And I don't know if I can do it /Oh no I've said too much/ I haven't said enough / I thought that I heard you laughing”

While the words are from the band REM, the message is all too familiar in our lives, and in our torah portion.

Losing my religion… Life, death, the tumultuous cycle of the year. We have completed another year and are beginning another one. Here we stand, a year later, about to read the same torah portion we’ve read so many times before. So what? One of the pieces of Judaism that I find most compelling is the emphasis on repetition. Some of you might be bored, reading the same words, the same torah portion year after year, time after time. I, however, love the quest of looking for something new each time I read the text.

Our torah portion this morning is from Bereshit, Genesis, the beginning of the Torah, we’ll read it now, and we’ll read it again in a few weeks as it comes up in our yearly cycle. So, you might be asking yourself, what makes it so special? Why was this picked for the Head of the year?

In rereading the parshah in preparation for today, I have found Some interesting life lessons from the words we will read in just a few moments.

The reading begins with some very powerful words, “V’adonai Pakad et Sara.” And the Lord visited, or in our translation, took note of Sarah. The lord took note of Sarah when she was in trouble. The Lord remembered the words he had promised to Sarah and Abraham in their desire for a child.

The portion goes on to speak about the birth of Isaac, the child of Abraham and Sarah, Abraham does as God asks, and circumcises his son. Then we learn of Isaac’s namesake, the laughter that ensued when Sarah learned she and Abraham would be given the gift of a child in their old age. The torah tells us upfront that, Abraham and Sarah, doubted God, in fact, they laughed in God’s face, and yet, they were still given this gift. They doubted their faith, and still, God took note.

As the tale continues, the saga of Abraham, Sarah, Hagar, Isaac and Ishmael unfolds and the intersection of their lives reveals aspects of human nature that aren’t necessarily appealing. The first, and perhaps, according to some, most important lesson: ALWAYS LISTEN TO YOUR WIFE. Sarah tells Abraham to banish Hagar and Ishmael from their home. Abraham is a bit hesitant, however, God reassures Abraham that the right thing to do is to listen to his wife’s voice.

IN this interaction between Abraham and Sarah, Sarah appears jealous, unsure of herself, wanting the best for her son. One might even argue, that the jealousy Sarah expresses is out of her deep, passionate love for her family, and her fighting will to do anything she can to keep it together.

On the flipside, Hagar and Ishmael are banished from the house, end up alone in the desert, without food, water or shelter. Hagar fears for the worst, perhaps she is “losing her religion.” But, the boy weeps and God takes note once more. Again, God comes through, not neglecting even those who doubt God’s presence.

As the portion for today concludes, Abraham makes an oath with Avimelech, who points out to Abraham that God is with him in all that he does. A powerful message evidenced by the encounters with God of Sarah, Hagar, and Abraham.

Our parshah emphasizes God’s presence in the world, in the best of times and the worst of times. Our lives are similar to those of Abraham, Sarah and Hagar, we all have moments of disbelief; our job is to believe, to laugh, and to live.

As we engage in this gift of a new year, may we be blessed to laugh, to trust in God, to experience feelings of jealousy, but only because they represent a strong passion to protect those close to us, those we love, may we recognize the ways God is with us, even when we feel like we are “losing our religion”,------when we can’t feel God’s presence. May we be blessed in the ways of Abraham and Sarah, in their ability to Laugh, even in the hardest of times, and with the gift of God’s everlasting presence.

Where have all the emails gone

2007-09-09T14:21:00.000-05:00

As i look back on my post from last year at this time, i was so full of love, so full of hope, so optimistic. And this year, I am having the hardest time just focusing on the fact that another year is beginning. This year that has just passed before my eyes will probably be remembered as the hardest year of my short life. In the last 2 months, I have hurt more than I have ever hurt before. This year, instead of focusing in the spiritual work that is to be done, I just want to focus on the physical work of healing my broken heart.
right about now, I should be receiving an incredibly powerful email from my daddy, an email full of joy and reflection, and email to inspire me, an email that shows me how loved I am, how proud of me he is, an email that pushes me forward to be the best i can be. Instead, this year, I have to rely on years past, that voice is gone in my life. This year, just getting through an hour without tears is the biggest challenge I can handle.
Every piece of my life is different. i am a mourner, my life is short a voice, short of a smile, short 2 hugs, 2 smiles, 2 fans, and nothing can fill the void.
So, here I stand, days before we stand before the Holy One, Blessed be God, and i am spiritually empty, emotionally drained. And each day, as we do slichot and draw closer to the moment of judgment, I stand here raw, exposed, empty, hoping to just make it through the next days with my head held high, my spirit in tact. This year, the best i can be is me, broken and recognize the healing i need to do for myself.

Daddy Dearest!

2007-08-29T12:25:00.000-05:00

As a little girl, my daddy was always my hero. He knew the answers to any question I asked him, or so I thought. I am the quintessential daddy’s girl. He was my best friend, he understood me, he supported me, even when he didn’t necessarily agree with my decisions. My dad was my number one fan, tied neck and neck with my papa. Daddy always knew the right thing to say, even if I didn’t want to hear it at that moment.

So much of who I am, and who I will be is tied to my father. In the last few weeks it has been pointed out to me by various individuals how much like my father I am. Sometimes it is in my need to always have a beverage with me in case I become thirsty, or always having a pen, or making a list. But, more than that, my father and I shared a bond of Jewish learning, of passing that passion down l’dor v’dor, from generation to generation. My dad has brought learning and Judaism to mlife for so many people. And, as my father wrote in one of his last emails to me,

“I pray to have the strength and wherewithal to be able to lead a
seder again with you or as may be the case without and perhaps if God wills
it then for a new generation. (This is not meant to be pressure in any way.
But for me the most important reason I poured my all into the s'darim were
the children.)” Hemade games and fun for the seder for me, my sister, my cousins, and my family. We will never forget the posen Passover puzzle and challenge, reading our favorite reading, I am a Jew, Edmond Fleg and the shtick he added when it came time to sing.

As my father told me, time after time about his father, “Never told me how to live, lived his life and allowed me to watch.” My father also did the same with my sister and I. He allowed his love of Judaism, family and life to shine through in his darkest moments and took pride in being able to pass that on. He always was sharing with me different interpretations of texts, as he read my blog and reinterpreted the texts I was sharing with him.

In the last few weeks as we have been cleaning out my papa’s apartment, my aunt found a letter my father had written to my papa during his junior year in Israel. He wrote about his struggle with finding the balance between living with his family and living an observant life. The pain he felt when he thought about not driving to shul which would mean not spending the holidays with his family. He was pained by these decisions he might have to make had he applied to the Jewish Theological Seminary for Rabbinical school. He wrote about his fears during the admissions processes, his love for Israel. While I knew my father had contemplated rabbinical school, I didn’t know how similar our struggles were in making the decision. When it came down to it, my father didn’t want to separate himself from his family, and at that time was unable to find a way to make that work. At the same time, I learned that my daddy also made the decision not to apply to rabbinical school because while a rabbi can help the Jewish people, being a social worker could he could help everyone, including the Jewish people.

This letter showed my father’s want to earn the title of rabbi from a school, but instead, he earned the title of rabbi from me and from so many others that he taught. My daddy will always be my rabbi, my teacher, my friend. As I have read and reread the emails from my daddy, and played our most recent phone calls over again in my head, there is no doubt in my mind that my daddy was my rabbi, he taught me how to tackle a challenge, how to push myself when I thought I couldn’t go on, how to be confident in my decisions, even if I was terrified of the changes that would ensue.

Mostly, and most evident in my conversations with him, my daddy helped me to set my roots firm, and pushed me to spread my wings. Roots and wings. My roots being who I am, and my wings helping me to soar to new heights. This is what he was most proud of in me.

I see myself in him, in his struggles, journeys, thoughts. I am lost without him. Who will solve my problems with me? There are so many things I don’t know how to do on my own, so many things we were going to do together, learn together. There is a hole in my life that will never be filled. The love of my father for my mother has taught me so much about relationships, and watching them grow together. I am so blessed ot have shared 25 years with my daddy, to have his blessings, to have his support.

Over the last few years, as my dad’s illnesses became more intense, his emails to me were more about reflection on his life and gifts he wanted to offer me. The best part of my week was often receiving and email from my daddy that I would immediately print and tape to my wall around my bedroom to help me smile and make it through a challenge.

As my dad wrote to me after I began my first year of rabbinical school:

ohvukt okmc

L The down side – it isn’t just a 45 minute ride to give you a hug.

These bullet points are my dad’s legacy to me, his hopes and wishes for all of us.

In the last year, he began a tradition of blessing me each Shabbat via email or the phone, and on the rare occasions I was actually physically present. I learned somewhere that just as children are a blessing to parents (most of the time), parents are a blessing to children. And so, I would bless him with the same words he blessed me, because my parents are truly blessed to have found one another.

And now, when I have to say goodbye to daddy’s physical presence in my daily life, I bless him as he blesses me.

Yevarechecha Adonai V’yishmerecha

May God bless you and guard over you

Yaer Adonai Panav Eilecha Viychunecha

May God shine the divine presence on you and show you favor

Yisa Adonia panav eilecha v’yasem l’cha Shalom!

May God treat you kindly and set you at Peace!

As my daddy said: In any event, know that you always have my blessings and my love. They weigh nothing so the Airline cannot take it away or charge you extra. It folds up neatly into your heart and all you have to do is open your heart and the blessings will pack themselves.

I will carry you in my heart always daddy, and I know you will be watching and supporting me always.

I LOVE YOU!

A Generation Lost in Space

2007-08-03T16:15:00.000-05:00

I had meant to write more this summer, but life got in the way. I have learned so much this summer about our world, about the injustice committed daily. About the emphasis on money, and how pointless it is if you can't help others. I've learned about CEOs who make $508.00 an hour, and women who don't' even make enough to put food on the table for their children. I have learned what it means to stand up for one's self and what it means to believe in a cause.
Most importantly, I have learned about myself, and what I value, what is important ot me, what I believe in. I have learned what it is to rely on others for support in a very traumatic time. I ahve learned that I am forever changing as is my world. I have learned that each generation has an obligation to stand up for themselves, and push forward to the new generation.

Papa can you hear me!?!?!

2007-07-24T20:14:00.001-05:00

A tribute to my Papa, who passed from this world Sunday afternoon, and will be so dearly missed from my life!

What can I say about my papa? About a man who was more to me than a grandfather. He was a friend, supporter, mentor, teacher and as so many of you know, my publicist. My papa always had the biggest grin on his face, from ear to ear and a twinkle in his eye. I often wondered what he was thinking about, but after listening to so many stories about his life, I know he was thinking about me, my sister, his sons, his family. My papa grounded me, connected me to my past, taught me about who I am, and helped me discover who I can be. Last Monday evening, papa and I had a quick conversation. I was on my way to a dinner for work, and he was just finishing up something in the hospital. As I said I LOVE YOU and hung up the phone, I went to this dinner where the theme comes from the Talmud, tractate Taanit 23a. It states: “As our ancestors planted for us, so will we plant for our children.”

What a perfect verse for my papa, it fits for so many reasons. It fits because as a child I remember helping him and nana plant their gardens, physically planting the bulbs so the roots could set in, watering them, watching them, and enjoying the fruits of our labors. Just was we watered the garden, my papa watered my soul. He encouraged me to learn more about Judaism, he enlightened me with new divrei torah and sermons, he pushed me to think about texts in a new light. Furthermore, he planted the seeds for his children. He taught his sons about Judaism, honor, respect and ethics, and I am so lucky to have my uncles and father pass on these core values. My papa instilled in me a love for Judaism that flourishes and sprouts in new ways each day.

Another of my favorite memories of my papa is sitting with him in Shul. When I was younger, we would sit together and sing, as I got older, he would be my biggest fan in the pews as I led services, chanted torah or haftorah and gave a drash. After nana died, papa became my shul buddy, each week during the sermon, he’d close his eyes and take a little snooze, and his smile only got bigger when I would place my kepe on his shoulder to do the same.

My papa opened a sense of wonder and excitement within me. He was always good for an adventure on our bicycle built for two, a long car ride to places like Holland Michigan where we would go to meet up with my nana and papa’s friends the Schultz’s and their granddaughter for the weekend. We would laugh and enjoy life together. And I knew, that as much as I looked forward to these weekends, my papa enjoyed them more. This was his chance to watch me enjoy life. This was his opportunity of passing on a legacy of friendship and loyalty. My papa showed me the value of a true friend. So many times he would jump in the car with nana and run off ot an out of town family event, or tell me about cousins I had never met. Papa was my link to the world.

As many of you know, my grandparents had a thing for rabbis. So, when I decided to become one, I don’t’ think they could have been any happier. But, this decision did not come out of the blue. It came from years of being shown the beauty of family and tradition from the Jewish perspective. It came from the love I feel for the liturgy and the memories I have of sitting with nana and papa, learning the service, joking about silly words, and being together. Each time I lead a service, read torah or haftorah, give a drash, I smile, because I know how proud of me my nana and papa are. I am often told that when I lead services, the best part is that my voice is loud and clear, each word is heard. And I always answer that this is because of my papa, who sat in the back of the shul, and he needed to hear me. I guess I’ll need to be a bit louder now.

About a year ago, my papa sent me an email it reads: Dearest EVE
I just opened my e-mail and WOW what a beautiful Update. I had tears in my eyes just thinking
how much Nana would have enjoyed reading it. I somehow feel that she is looking down and
"kleibing nachas" from it all. If it is raining in LA, just think of it as Nana's tears of joy raining down on you.

I went back and looked at your last two Updates to compare them to this one.Your joy of learning has certainly not deminished. It seems to grow stronger each time you write. I get
a feeling that I am witnessing the metamorphosis of a young woman who left here with some
trepidation about where she was going to a much more mature young woman with an insatiable
appetite to learn more. I am so happy for you. I can't wait to see you and hug you in three weeks.

I’ve gotta go print out copies of your latest update for distribution!

All my love,

PAPA

His encouragement and love have helped me to grow and experience the world anew. This one email makes me smile so much because it embodies my papa, and his love for me, for family. And of course, for sharing all his nachas with you. Oh, and have no fear, while Papa wont’ be sending out the updates, I will be, and you can always find them at http://rabbieve.blogspot.com!

So, what can I say to a person who gave me so much in my life? To someone who was so kind and caring, and who took such good care of me and my family. To a man who treated me like a daughter, but with only the fun to be had. How can I honor my papa, who instilled in me the love of Judaism that has become my life, my love of family and knowing my roots because he showed them to me. What will I do without my publicist, my number one fan? I know he’ll be cheering me on, listening and watching me. I know he and nana will be front and center on my ordination night, with grins from ear to ear. I know his memory will live on as a blessing through me, and my family and the way in which we live our lives because of his gentle guidance and care. At the end of each phone call with papa, each meeting, I’d say I love you and he’d give me a tight squeeze, tell me he loved me, and then I’d tell him to stay healthy, and he’d respond with, I have to. He did it for me, for my sister, for his family. My papa was a fighter.

And so, on this day, where we gather to honor the memory of my papa, I feel his presence, the warmth of his smile, and I know he’s with nana now. I know he is at peace, and I will carry a piece of him always in my heart. Here I am living out my dreams, and growing from the seed planted by my papa. What better way to honor my papa, than to keep on living! I LOVE YOU PAPA!

And it feels like home...

2007-07-04T23:31:00.000-05:00

Sort of. I mean, I have now officially been back in the United States for 4 weeks. It doesn't really feel like home, but it does feel familiar. I think i am just looking forward to being in one place for more than a few months. I came home, hit the ground running and have finally been in the same place for 3 weeks. In a bit over a month I will move back to LA and stay there for hopefully some long extended time.
But, what is a more fitting way to recognize my re-entry into the United States of America with the celebration of the 4th of July. I have been sitting here, thinking about how different this day is here than in Israel. In Israel, it is a celebration of a state that people are still fighting to protect the right to exist. I don't feel that way here. In Israel the day follows a very moving and somber day of morning and remembrance for those who fell in battles to protect the country. Here, it is just another excuse for fire works, alcohol and a day off of work. Don't get me wrong, I think celebrating America, and the freedoms I am granted for living here is an incredibly important task. But I am taken by the marked differences in the societies and have a deeper understanding for what my life means, my country stands for.
I spent part of my day doing something that made me feel more grateful for the country I live in, and felt like it better celebrated what "independence day" is all about. I spent a portion of my day down in Millennium park working with a teen group on a voter registration drive. And the rest of the day participating in my first bbq since being back in the US.
I guess I'm just readjusting, but it's much harder when every day I am faced with the challenges of our society and trying to find my place within the hustle and bustle and fight for justice. I guess I'll just take it one day at a time, and do whatever small part I can to make a difference in my world. Hillel keeps coming back to me: "If I am not for myself who will be for me, if I am only for myself, what am I, and if not now, when?" This is the daily struggle!

Heal the World

2007-06-20T17:35:00.000-05:00

It seems to me that there is a lot of healing to be done in the world. My world is broken. The world i see with my eyes, hear, live in is hurting, and needs to be fixed. As I embarked 2 days ago on my journey this summer, the world became a different place to me. As I embarked 10 months ago for my year in Israel, the world changed in my eyes. What can I do to fix it? 2 days ago my work began, significant work. Work that is moving in the right direction. I dont' want to perfect the world, because well, i don't think anything is perfect, and if it were perfect, it wouldn't be real.
Now, I know that all of these problems and hurts existed before, and I wanted to help then as well. I am not naive, and I know that there is a lot to be done. What I am talking about is my new perspective.
I'm just thinking about our world, and the injustice that is so prevalent in daily life. The women who can't feed their children, the children who are punished because of a society that instead of working for the children works against the adults.
I guess I'm just doing a lot of thinking these days. Today I went to my placement for the first time. I am working for a very special project, advocating for social change. Advocating for those whose voice is rarely listened to. And my voice will be heard. Whether it is because I was one of those considered "Lucky" in our society to have been born as I am, look the way I look, or because I can empathize, sympathize and agonize with the community I am working with. Our voices will be heard.
I guess you could say I am hooked. After these past 3 days, I have been shown an entirely new world, one that is bleeding and broken, but one that I have the tools to fix. This is really incoherent, probably because I haven't quite been able to process everything yet, but this is the beginning.
"You are not obligated to complete the task, neither are you free to desist from it..." HERE I GO!

Riding along in my....

2007-06-20T17:00:00.000-05:00

train car. That's right, I am finally living in a city with public transportation that is usable, semi-affordable, and doesn't involve me sitting in my own car for hours. I get to take the "L" to work every morning and home every night. This is a new and big thing for me. First of all, I have a terrible sense of direction, so it's not easy for me to figure out which one to get on, where to go, what direction it should be going. Even if i read the signs and have a map. But, Chicago seems to be pretty easy to figure out. And, with the help of one of my roommates for the summer, I was able to figure out the best way to get to and from the office and from my placement.
Today was the first day I took the "L" by myself, as it was our first day of placement. Armed with my map and directions memorized, I headed out on my own. I needed to take 2 trains, one of which I have taken before to get to work, and one I had never seen before. It went off without a hitch. My train was pretty empty, on time, and when the transfer came, I found a nice person, asked if I was standing and waiting for the right train, and that was that. I made it to work in 1 hr. without a headache or sitting in traffic for hours.
I think I"ll like taking the "L". Yesterday, i found myself making up stories for the people who came on to the train. Today, i enjoyed my ipod and my book, and taking in the scenery on my way south and then back north through the city. There was something relaxing and peaceful about the train, something that kept me in my head, thinking, but relaxing. I have a built in hour before and hour after work to relax, decompress, reflect. There isn't anything else I can do, so I will make the best use of the time as I can. I LIKE THE "L", yay for public transit!

Here We Go Again

2007-06-19T16:50:00.001-05:00

So, there is a common thread in my life that is becoming more and more noticeable. My Bat Mitzvah portion seems to creep up on me in the strangest ways, and at the most interesting times. It was of course my grandfather's parsha, the parsha my first week of Rabbinical School, the parsha when I moved to Israel for the year, it was studied at various events, and now, once more, on the second day of my summer job we studied its words again.
It begins with "When you will go out to war." I have seen this fitting in many ways, since It always seems to be the parsha when I am on my way out into a new leg of my journey, so it is fitting here. It was also fitting that it was a war, because when I went to Israel it was to a "war" and now again I am embarking on a war for social justice. It continues on with many, many different commandments, one of which discusses our obligation to pay attention and see the world around us. We are not to ignore issues that need our attention. So fitting for what I am doing this summer.
But I also have to wonder if there is a reason this text, this specific section of all the texts I study keeps popping up in my world. It just seems too coincidental to me. it makes me journey seem more meaningful and almost appears as a sign telling me I am on the right path. Even, when I already know i am on the right path. So today, I set out again on yet another journey. My summer internship began with an "action" or "protest" yesterday and tomorrow I will visit my internship sight for the first time. This summer, i will engage in the war, I will go out into the world. This summer, my eyes will be opened, and I will not ignore

Like a Rolling Stone

2007-06-17T16:26:00.000-05:00

So, I've been home a little over a week and I am still readjusting. In the last 10 days I have lived in Israel, Michigan and now Chicago. I have touched ground in Israel, Atlanta, Michigan, Indiana and Illinois, and I have lived in 3 different time zones. Surprisingly, I haven't had hardly any jet lag. My readjustment is still progressing slowly. In some ways, it feels like I never left, and in others it seems like I have been away for far too long.
It was quite wonderful to see my family again after so many months apart. Having my dog jump on me and go crazy was an incredible feeling only to have been beat by the feeling of hugging my mom, dad, sister, aunts, uncles and grandfather again. I left 9 months ago, and I returned, everyone is still in one piece, and I am very thankful for that.
As ready as I was to come home, I miss Israel terribly. I miss the atmosphere, hearing Hebrew everywhere I go, I miss the people, my friends, my apartment. Although, it is quite nice to have carpeting and cable and a car. I'm sort of in this in between state of not knowing where I am and trying to figure out where I am landing myself. It will be very nice once I settle in here in Chicago for the summer to be in one place again for a few months.
So, how did my reentry go? Well, I got home to find 2 of my bags did not make it quite to Detroit with me, but were soon delivered to my house. I immediately had a delicious new york bagel, unpacked, relaxed with carpeting, air conditioning and lots and lots of channels on TV. I have now eaten all of my favorite foods, had a fantastic lunch with my sister, fun family dinners, reconnected with a few old friends, and made some new ones. I went to a Tigers game with my mom and sister, and had a fantastic time relaxing before the big move over to Chicago.
After 7 full days at home, I packed up again, and drove myself down to Chicago. I was very very sad to be leaving my family and friends so soon, but I am only about 5 hours away in the car. Anything is better than 14 or more hours by plane! The best part of Chicago is that I am living only a few short blocks away from my uncle. It is wonderful to be living in a city with family, especially with family i don't get to see all the time.
I arrived Friday afternoon. After I got myself into the apartment I quickly changed and headed out to Shabbat services and dinner with my Uncle at his synagogue. It was wonderful to meet his friends, and join a wonderful community. We davened, sang and ate the homemade goodies my uncle made for the Oneg. I very much enjoyed being in his company and getting to know a bit of Chicago I hadn't seen before. Shabbat was very relaxing and involved getting to know one of my roommates. I am living in an apartment with 3 other people. We are subletting for the summer. We are now finally all moved in and slowly getting to know each other before we begin our work tomorrow. It all promises to be a fantastic summer! Today I went grocery shopping and found a few Kosher places to buy my favorite salami and other foods. and now I am jsut relaxing before joining the work force again!
A pretty simple and straightforward update. I should mention that I came home just in time to say goodbye to my Rabbi who will be leaving in a few weeks to take his post as the Dean of JTS rabbinical school. It was wonderful to return to the place that has such a profound influence on me and my decision to become a rabbi. Walking in the door, seeing my friends, my community brought me back to reality, made it feel like home.
So, here I go. Off on another journey, finding my way, a new adventure! And it promises to be fun! Off to take on the Windy City!!

I'm Going Home

2007-06-10T18:38:00.000-05:00

Below is my journal entry after I boarded the plane:
Here I sit, on the plane, a few minutes from take off and this song plays. I start to cry. I am actually leaving my home of the last 10 months. It is over.
I did so much, but there was so much more to do, and I am going home. But, I am leaving home, and here are the tears, flowing, streaming freely down my face. They are sad tears, but they are happy tears. Perhaps they are tears of pride and joy. I am leaving my new family, my friends. I know I will see them again, and soon- but for now, we say goodbye. We hung on to each other for life at times, other times we caught one another, supported each other. We clung to the last minutes of being together. Watching the season finale of "Grey's Anatomy" in the airport with a classmate until I had to board my flight. Tears, streaming down my face, confusion, fear. I am going home, I am facing the pain and sorrow that stood in the back of my mind all year. In Israel, I was free, I was me, I didn't have to deal with life at home if I didn't want to. But here I am, on a plane, mere hours from returning to the life I left. Returning a different person. Returning unsure of how to deal with some of the changes that face me upon my return. Returning to leave again in 6 days.
They are tears of the unknown, what will it be like to return to America after 9 months and 6 days? How will it feel? Will I know what to do without Hebrew? Without everything I have become so used to? How will it be to be with my family?
The pilot just came on- one last Israel Experience- in the middle of our preparation for take off, the air traffic control workers went on strike! I have to smile thru the tears, how fitting!
I did it, I made it alone in Israel. I am so proud of myself. I am independent, I took care of myself, without my usual supports, without the support I thought I couldn't live without. I am o.k. Now, I can do anything.
Here we go, cleared for take off. 9 months ago I arrived, now I leave, a new person, a better person, a more confident, independent me. No looking back, no turning back, here we go. I have an entire row to myself, this is it. And how fitting, they are showing "Pirates" which i watched so many times this year with my classmates.

Leaving on a Jet Plane, Don't Know when I'll be Back Again

2007-06-06T02:02:00.000-05:00

Well, here I am, in about 13.5 hrs, my flight will take off and I will high in the sky on my way back to America. And I am mixed with emotions. I am so excited and happy to see my family, friends, community, and yet, so incredibly sad to leave Israel, leave my life here, my family here, my friends. My roommate keeps getting so excited for me because I am going home, and yet I am eternally conflicted.
Yesterday, we received a security warning from school. We have received these before, but this one was very specific about where not to go, what not to do. And it basically included all the places I had planned on visiting today before I left. Granted, I am not going because my friend the parasite has made his triumphant return to say goodbye to Israel, but none-the-less, this was a jolt to the system.
Perhaps I have been lucky, although, I don't like to think of it as lucky. I have lived here for 9 months, and in those 9 months, while there has been an escalation in tensions, my life has not been threatened. I feel safe. But, I don't want to leave Israel, leave Jerusalem, leave my home when she might need me, when my friends might not be safe. I know I have nothing to do with it, but the worry and concern and love that have grown within me this year make it that much harder ot leave.
And so, here I am, doing last minute planning and packing, in a few short hours, the page will turn, and a new journey will begin! I am excited to see where it takes me, but sad to end this part of my journey.
for the last time, LOVE FROM THE HOLY LAND, I'll see you in AMERICA!

HAMAVDIL BEN KODESH L'CHOL

2007-06-05T02:55:00.000-05:00

HAMAVDIL BEN KODESH L’CHOL: The one who Makes a distinction between Holy and Ordinary

I say this Bracha every week as part of the Havdallah service, but this week, it means something new. The words Sacred and Ordinary have a new meaning this week as I take myself from the Sacred, the Holiness of the city of Jerusalem, of the Land of Israel, and take myself back to HUL, Hutz L’aretz, outside the land, back to America. While I am so happy to go home and see my friends and family, I am going to miss Ir HaKodesh. I will miss the living history I see each day as I walk to and from school. I will miss hearing Hebrew all around me, and the feeling of pride and confidence when I understand the conversations and join in. I will miss the endless kosher restaurants. I will miss the city shutting down for Shabbat and Haggim, and the peacefulness of the night when no one is out. I will miss the Israeli attitude and crazy way society works, and I will miss waking up to the clear blue sky. I will miss having the Kotel (as much as I’m not such a fan) 30 minutes away, and looking out at the Knesset every morning and night.

Above all, I will miss the relationships and friends I have made this year. It seems clear that there is something special, unique, and intense about friendships built through shared new experiences and places. My friends have become my family this year, because most of us don’t have family in Israel. I will miss the way people just drop by and conversations run on for hours. I will miss these friends, because they have become more than friends. They have become people who I have shared my life with, shared in tragedy and triumph, shared happiness, sadness and love together. I will miss these friends because they helped me be me, and make it through the year.

And so, as I continue to finish packing up my room, taking the last finals, catching one last glimpse of this holy city, I recognize now more than ever the difference between Kodesh and Chol.

May it be your will, God who makes the distinction between holy and ordinary, and I am not far from either as I make this transition. Make this transition easy, but distinct. May I find kodesh in the ordinary and ordinary in the Kodesh. May I find my way back to this place I have learned to love and call home soon. If I forget thee O Jerusalem, it would be like forgetting a piece of my heart. Thank you for this taste of Kodesh… Now, on to a new journey!

Tomorrow's Just Another Day

2007-06-04T14:15:00.000-05:00

But it's not. Tomorrow is my last full day here in Jerusalem, in Israel. Come Wednesday night at this time, my bags will be packed, checked in, and I"ll be sitting at Ben Gurion waiting for my plane to leave. Tomorrow isn't just another day, Tomorrow is the day. I take my final final of my third year of Rabbinical School. I am over half way done with Rabbinical School, I am leaving Israel.
Tonight, I went out to dinner with my friend Mo for his last night in Jerusalem; his flight leaves early tomorrow morning. And as I walked there, my mind wandered into a million little places. I first started to think about all the times I walked down these streets, how scared I was the first time I tried to find my way around with a map. How many times I've celebrated last Nights with people, and now, here I am about to celebrate my own last night... WOW, so many emotions, and I can't quite put them all on paper yet! Off to study and pack before my big exam tomorrow!!

Sooner or Later, All good things must come to an end

2007-05-30T04:11:00.000-05:00

I'm sitting here, having just returned from my real last class at Machon Schechter. 2 exams separate me from the official end of the academic studies I have engaged in here in Israel this year. And, my thoughts are all over the place. I cannot believe that I arrived in Israel nine months ago. It seems like only yesterday, and it seems like a lifetime ago. There were the days in the beginning that seemed like a heavenly paradise, the days in the middle where I wanted nothing more than to go home, and I thought the journey would never end, the days where I was suddenly reminded that I am in Israel, and now the days that fly by so fast, I just want them to slow down. One week from today I will board a plane back to America, the time of my return to Israel, uncertain. This year has been full of ups and downs, full of growth and change. New friends have been made, old friends reunited with, and other friendships ended. This year has been full of learning in and outside the classroom, learning about myself, society, the world. And i know that learning will never end, but my time here is coming to an end, and it is all happening so fast.
Yesterday in my Israel Seminar, we reflected on the year, on how our views and feelings towards Israel have changed during the year. I definitely have found myself with stronger views on the politics of this country, have a deeper connection to the struggle of living here, and a new found respect for those who choose to make Aliyah, and at the same time, am ready to go back to my home. Home is where the heart is, my home is both Israel and America, and that is o.k. But, my picture of an idealistic, perfect Israel has been altered, and I see a State, full of problems, but overcome with incredible charm and beauty.
I am left with questions, how can I show American Jews that they need Israel, not just that Israel needs us? How can I learn to love the discomfort, which I have, and how can I find the discomfort that pushes me to grow and try new things back in America? How can I share my unconditional love for the complex society that Israel is home to?
I have learned to love the complexities that make this charming society. I have learned to love the discomfort. I have learned to love the sirens and honking. I have learned to love the backwards bureaucracies, because I love Israel Unconditionally.
But, I'm not ready to leave. It doesn't feel real. In the next week, I will pack up my life again, and move to a new place, I will have new experiences, new friends, new thoughts. But, I will be leaving something so precious to me.
How did these 9 months fly by so quickly?
I remember the pride and joy when I had my first conversation in Hebrew outside School, when I ordered food for delivery in Hebrew, when I read the bills and understood them for the first time. I remember the sense of accomplishment writing my first paper in Hebrew, participating in Class for the first time in Hebrew, understanding an entire lecture in Hebrew. It will be strange to go back to speaking English everywhere. It will be strange to go to the Grocery store and understand the packages, to have a cart I didn't have to pay for. It will be strange to have a car, not to rely on my own two feet every minute of the day.
So many thoughts to process. So much more to do and see. But time is running out... here I go, making the best of the time I have left. And I know, it won't be long before I return!

Where Everybody Knows your Name

2007-05-25T03:59:00.000-05:00

Nearly every morning when I wake up, Cheers is on TV, and I eat my morning bowl of cereal while watching one of my favorite shows. Mind you, this show has been off the air in America for a long time, but here, I'm still getting "new" episodes.
But, every morning, I think about the wonderful feeling of walking into a room where everybody knows your name. This year, I have spent a great deal of time learning at both Machon Schechter and the conservative Yeshiva. In fact, I spent the first month and a half that I was living in Israel at the Conservative Yeshiva, and throughout that time, i developed friendships that I think will last a life time. But now, as the year ends, my friends are starting to leave, and the room that was once a place that I would walk into and everybody not only knew my name, but was excited to see me, and me them, will be spread throughout the country and the world. Now, that room is slowly beginning to empty, and I have a twinge of sadness.
I guess this is just another step towards the end of the year. the count down has begun, in the next 2 weeks, I will pack up my room, finish my classes, say goodbye to some dear friends, and head back to America. It is all happening so fast, my head is spinning. there is so much to do.
of all the incredible adventures I have had this year, all the amazing learning, the growing I have done for myself, as a person. Of all the experiences I have had, what I will miss the most is walking into a room where everybody knows my name, where my friends are. And for this experience, I am grateful!

Climb Every Mountain

2007-05-24T12:47:00.000-05:00

It was about 7 months ago that I wrote an entry titled with a sound of music song, so I figured it was time for another! Israel just brings it out in me! Anyways, I am writing this as i have regained consciousness and hopefully gotten back into a normal sleeping schedule after the amazing holiday that is Shavuot.
For me, this Shavuot represented something different, special, unique. Shavuot completed my cycle of the shalosh Regalim, for which I was in Israel. That's right, this year, i walked, actually on regel to the old city of Jerusalem on each of the 3 regalim. I walking down the streets, carrying myself, my prayers, my heart to the Temple. I walked down the streets that so many have walked before me. i walked towards the holy of holies. And the shalosh regalim will always have special meaning for me because of this. It is not that i think it is so special to be at the Kotel, and at the "temple". Rather, for me what hits home is the act of walking and doing. I don't' get moved every time I go to the old city, in fact, I don't' really enjoy being at the Kotel, mostly because of the politics and the "idolization" the Kotel has in our lives today.
As I walked towards Robinson's Arch or the "Masorti Kotel" at 4am with thousands of other people, I found myself moved by the symbolism. Here we are, thousands of years later, walking down the streets in the same direction my ancestors did. I closed my eyes after seeing the sea of people behind and ahead of me, and imagined what it might have been like. The streets loud with animals, the smell of the great BBQ happening on the Temple mount, the first fruits being brought into the Temple court yard. The ability to feel close to God.
Instead, i walked down the street at 4am to the call of the Mosques that surround the old city, they too were up early to pray. I walked down the street with my friends, with those who became my family this year, with tired eyes, but a joyous and full heart. The sky was an amazing array of blues, the stars bright and twinkly, there was even a shooting star. The evening and morning were perfect.
I did this walk 9 years ago, when I was here on TRY. I did the walk with my friend A, who also happens to be here with me this year studying to become a rabbi as well. We talked beforehand about what we remembered from that morning 9 years ago. The morning when we had to wear backpacks over our talitot, had to cover our heads from the buckets and dirty diapers being hurled at us. 9 years ago, we attended the egalitarian service in the Kotel plaza, where the police formed a human barrier around us, protecting us from those who didn't then, and don't now believe that we had a right to pray together. We talked about the feeling of holding the Torah as it was read from, the feeling of standing up for what I believe in. Then, I received the Torah with a sense of pride, with a sense of excitement and anticipation. This year, we had our own place, this year there was no conflict, this year, I stood there, ready to receive Torah in a new way.
This year, I stood at the southern wall, in a mixed group, staring up at this monstrous wall, staring up at the sky, trying to take in everything around me. This year, i climbed the mountain, I embraced the challenges of life in Israel, life in Jerusalem, and climbed towards my goal, becoming a better me, learning and embracing the experiences. This year, the gift of Torah for me has been the gift of finding myself while studying Torah. This year, the Torah came to life for me, the cycle of the year was all around me, staring me in the face from all sides.
As I learned through the night, as I taught about the receiving of the Torah, I received Torah of my own. I received Torah in my heart, I received a precious gift... I climbed the mountain, I survived my journey, I struggled, complained, doubted, believed, persevered and I made it! Two steps forward, one step back, here I go again...

Here I Stand, 6 Feet Small

2007-05-22T08:41:00.000-05:00

O.k., so I'm not really 6 feet, in fact, I am only a few inches over 5 feet small, but this is how I feel as I prepare to receive Matan Torah. Here I am again, standing at the base of the mountain, preparing myself phyiscally, emotionally, spiritually for the gift of Torah. And, while I receive this gift on a yearly basis and engage with this figt on a daily, even hourly basis, I always feel a tremendous sense of responsibility and hesitation as I approach Shavuot. It is odd, seeing as I have counted the last 49 days (except last night when I forgot... I almost made it!), and begun to prepare myself, through the exodus, through the journey to this point. But, I am not prepared, I am as far from ready as I think I can be.

Last year, the counting of the Omer was a literal counting of the days between when I left home during Pesach and would arrive back home at the end of my year and begin my trip and preparation for this fantastic year in Israel. The symbolism stuck with me, stood out as a gift, I counted the days from an exodus to a new journey, to a new gift. This year, the counting is much sadder. This year, I counted each day, knowing that I was counting one day closer to my impending departure from Jerusalem and Israel. And now, the time is here. 2 weeks from tomorrow, I board a plane and head on out.

So, knowing all of this, how will I accept the gift of Torah? How can I possibly take it all in, standing at the bottom of this mountain, looking up? Perhpas I will approach it like i approach rabbinical school: head held high, ready to learn and jump each day, but taking it step by step, carefully taking it all in, careful not to fall, stumbling a bit, finding new paths, finding better paths, achy and sore on the way, but changing and growing none-the-less. Perhaps, I will approach this mountain looming before me with trepidation but excitement, jumping with anticipation at the new insights just waiting to be discovered this turn around. As Rabbi Ben Bag Bag says in Perkei Avot: "Turn it and turn it over again, for all is within it..." Here we go for another round.

Here I stand, awaiting the gift, looking back from where I came, how I've grown on this journey, looking ahead at the climb, and looking forward to every minute of the adventure. What will I find? What will I take? What will I learn? What will i teach? Who will I be?

COME STAND WITH ME!

May it be your will, great compassionate, loving God, that I stand here again a year from now, wiser, and more open to accepting your gift. Thank you for the gift of your loving embrace, the gift of the sun and the glorious land which you have given me to enjoy, for the health and happiness of all those who surround me. May I never take for granted the beauty of your earth, the gift of your Torah, and the gift of my life.

Never Saw Blue Like That Before

2007-05-22T07:29:00.001-05:00

Every morning, I walk to school, and take in the beauty that surrounds me. The luscious green trees that line the path to Schechter, the Keneset straight ahead of me. The purples, yellows, reds of the flowers that greet me. The voices of children laughing on their way to school. Some days, I turn around about half way up the "mountain" and look out onto the city, look back at my apartment, and realize, I AM IN ISRAEL! As much of a pain in the you know what as the walk with my huge back pack is to get to school, I love it. I am thankful, grateful for this time in the morning, this precious experience that I have had this year.

Only, this past week, every morning, I would walk out of my apartment and be stunned by the clear blue of the sky ahead of me. the pristine blue sky that greets me, not a cloud to be seen. Or, the sky last Leil Shabbat, the intricate blending of blues, from dark to light, to glowing, the glitter of the stars and the sliver of a moon that peaked out to give me light. I happen to love taking in the sky, taking in the nature that surrounds me, but here it is different. here the colors are more vivid, here the blue is more pristine, here it feels more beautiful to me.

I have so many different pictures of the sky in Israel, perhaps I walk around with my head in the cloudss a bit too often. Or, maybe, I am looking up to take it in, and find the place most high to fill myself with. I have never seen blue like this before. I have never seen views this spectacular everywhere I look.

I can't imagine waking up in just 2 short weeks without these magnificent gifts, no more yellow mornings because of a dust storm, or pristine blue skies that serve as the backdrop to the holy city. But, I think that is why it means to much to me. I have never seen blue like this before, only in Jerusalem, only in Ir HaKodesh. Take a look at the sky today, take in its calming presence, take in the smile of the sun, and the glow of the moon. Wish upon a star. What an incredible gift!

Leading you, Leading me

2007-05-20T10:24:00.000-05:00

Recently, I have had a few more opportunities to act as a Shlichat Tzibur, the person who leads the prayer for the community. Aside from doing a presentation today on the halachic basis for women acting as shlichat tizbur, I have been thinking about what it means to me.
When i stand before the community and lead services, I feel a sense of closeness to God that I don't' feel when I daven alone. I feel a sense of power, a connection to others, a connection to myself. I love the feeling of standing before a community and acting on their behalf. Even though they are actually able to fulfill this obligation themselves and my presence is nothing more than a symbol, I feel alive.
Perhaps this comes because growing up, I always saw my grandfathers or father acting as the Shaliach Tzibur, and I wanted to do the same. Or because i hear their voices in my head when I start davening. Perhaps it is they rhythm of the words that puts me into a peaceful place, or maybe it is merely because I like to be the leader. I am not sure if it is one, or all of these things, but I love the feeling i have after leading a great service.
I think this goes back to my love of teaching, and the lack of opportunities i have had this year to be a teacher in the formal classroom setting. I have taught my classmates through group presentations, and through sharing my struggles with the circumstances of my life. But I have not been able to feel the joy and love of teaching I feel when I am in the classroom or informal setting really sharing the knowledge and learning from one another.
Regardless of what the feeling is, I love it, and I have missed it. With this, i feel connected to those whose presence is felt through prayer, and not their physical closeness, and with this, I feel connected to the one most high.

Yerushalayim Shel Zahav,

2007-05-16T06:15:00.000-05:00

Jerusalem of Gold, such famous and powerful words. Do they refer to the color of Jerusalem Stone at sunset? the color of the dome of the rock which stands out so prominently? To the yellow color of the sky in a sand storm? To the shimmering gold sun most days? the gold flowers that smile at me as I walk to school? to the preciousness of this city, the rare gift? to the gold of the heart?
Today is Yom Yerushalayim, celebrating 40 years of a unified Jerusalem. And there is so much to think about. In my lifetime, Jerusalem has been what it is, the boundaries changing slightly, but we have always had the old city. We have fought for our right to live freely and without fear, but we have lived here. Jerusalem, the city with so many complexities it makes my head spin. So many psalms written about the love affair with this special city. SO many blisters, so many dirty feet, so many smiles, laughs, memories.
This precious place that i have been so lucky to call my home for the past 9 months, and an additional 6 months. This place that I will never forget, that will never be far from my consciousness when I leave in just over 2 weeks.
And so this Yom Yerushalayim, I look out the window at the freak thunderstorm, and wonder what we are celebrating? A unified Jerusalem that is unraveling with a barrier between parts? The Jerusalem I am living in? The Jerusalem of old? The Jerusalem of the tanach? Or, the Jerusalem of my heart, the sacred space that is filled with memories, but more than that, filled with my spiritual journey. The place in each individual where they have found their center, their golden stone, their golden experience, their place?!?!

My First, My Last, My Everything

2007-05-13T09:20:00.000-05:00

It is the time of year where people are beginning to leave, things are beginning to change. Within the next month, my year in Israel will end and I will return to Detroit for a brief stint before moving to Chicago for my summer job and then back to LA for school. In this time, many of the people who became my family this year will begin to go their separate ways. Some I’ll see in a few short months when I return to LA, some I’ll see in a few months when I travel to their wedding, and some, I don’t know when I will see again. It is such a strange feeling. It seems like I just got here yesterday, like I just left Detroit a week ago. Yet, at the same time, it feels like I have been here forever. Perhaps it is the intense environment that I have been living in that allows relationships to grow and build much quicker than in a “normal” setting. Perhaps these feelings come from the incredible ups and downs I have felt this year. Perhaps this feeling comes from this in between place I find myself in.

Here I am counting down the days until I go home, as up until now, I counted the months since I left and the months I have lived here. I am constantly torn. I want to go back to my family, my friends, my community, to the places where I am comfortable. But at the same time, I don’t want to leave this community I have found here. I don’t want to leave this place that I love so much, the holiness and connection I feel in everyday activities. I don’t want to leave the learning, the rich environment, and the struggles. I don’t want to leave the ease of living in a place that is Jewish, with all of the challenges that come with it. I want to see my mom, hug her, and my dad, my sister, my dog. I want to share a Shabbat with my community, with those who helped me to get to where I am. But I don’t want to leave those who helped be become who I am this year.

And I find myself surrounded by lasts. Everyone has started to say “this is my last….” And many are having their “first last……” it is a very strange feeling to think about lasts when I feel like there are so many first still to be had. Just when I thought I had it figured out to some degree, it is all changed again.

Tonight I walked home from shul with my friend Matt, as we had our last walk home from shul together, I got nostalgic. It was very much Matt and his wife Jen who helped build the community I have loved being a part of this year. And I will see them again soon in Los Angeles when we learn together. They are 2 people who I am very lucky to have in my community this year who will continue to be a part of my life. I think I would have been lost without them this year. It is then very fitting that I have a “last” with them, as I also had many firsts with them. My first Shabbat in Israel, the day I arrived I was whisked off to their home for an incredible Shabbat dinner, I had my first nap in a park on Shabbat with them, my first visit to the Kotel on this visit, my first amazing waffle and the waffle bar on Aza with them, my first trip to the mall, and so many more.

It is strange to think that in the next month I’ll have many firsts and many lasts. But, maybe they are not lasts. I hope that they are not lasts. I hope to return to this amazing city, to this land that speaks to me so beautifully and clearly, and have many more experiences. Instead of focusing on the “last…” I think I’ll focus on the “firsts.” Perhaps I’m in denial that I am leaving, or perhaps I don’t want to think about the finality of this year. But, I think it is more than that. I think I am trying to find a way to take this with me. It is not a last, but a new beginning. This year was a first in so many ways… this year was a first, a last and SOOOO MUCH MORE!! And for all of that I am grateful and proud.

Don't Judge a Book by its Cover!

2007-05-12T14:10:00.000-05:00

As a rabbinical student, and an avid reader, going into a book store of any sort is like entering a playground and not knowing what to play with first. I often have to hold myself back from even entering for fear of sensory overload and exhaustion. But, here in Israel, how can I resist. I often wander into stores, pick up a book that has a beautiful maroon and gold cover and binding, and hold it in my hands. Knowing very well that the pages within it are pages written by those much wiser than me, much more learned. The pages are filled with the wisdom, thought processes and teachings of the rabbis that came before me. Sometimes the book has a beautiful cover, and sometimes it looks very plain. Either way, I pick it up, read a page or two, and put it down.

It is intimidating to pick up these books filled with so much. But, I know I can handle it now. My Hebrew has improved by leaps and bounds this year. My textual skills are honed, my reasoning about as logical and illogical as the Tanaim and Amoraim. I am ready. But still, I find myself so intimidated by these books. I have the keys to unlock their secrets, but am I ready? I think I am ready, I am able, now, I just have to decide which ones to open first.

Last week, as part of my packing and finalizing my year in Israel, I took myself on a book buying adventure. I had done my homework, emailed rabbis and asked what books to buy, what books would be helpful, what books they love. I had made a list of all the books I wanted to buy, in order of importance to me. I made my list and then shopped out the prices, checked them out in the stores, made appointments to check them out again, and eventually purchase. And, on Wednesday I went to the store that offered the best prices and confidently announced that I was ready to make my purchases.

The owner advised me to meet with his seforim specialist, but I, having done my homework politely declined and began to tell him my list of purchases. The first few were no problem, a Mishnah with Bartenura commentary, Otzar Roshei Teivot, Alkaly Hebrew to English, a Tal-man version of the Vilna Shas (full set of Talmud), here is where my problem was. Did I want the big size or the slightly smaller size? Did I want the extra “Boys in the back” (commentators)? Did I want the 36 volume set or the 20 volume set? With this, I was lost. In all my research, all my question asking, no one even brought this up to me. I had no idea what to do. I guess I needed to think more. I met with the specialist, and decided on which set to get. The larger sized, extra “boys in the back” 20 volume set.

And like that, I OWN AN ENTIRE VILNA SHAS!

An overpowering and overwhelming experience to be sure. I couldn’t help but tell everyone I talked to for the rest of the day. I did it, I bought myself a shas. I own it.

When I first began rabbinical school 3 years ago, I was terrified of the Talmud, scared of the Mishnah, overwhelmed by the Aramaic, Hebrew, logic, structures. And now, not only can I figure it out, I have the tools, skills and confidence to wrestle with any text. And so, I feel ready to own the Shas, not only physically, but mentally, emotionally. Now, I have grown, now I have learned. Now, I am getting there.

From the narrow I called, I was answered from the Expanse

2007-05-05T13:24:00.000-05:00

Last Tuesday was the last session of Rav Siach, the interdenominational conversation group I have been a part of this year. Throughout the last year we have met on Tuesday nights and discussed with each other a variety of issues. Mainly though, we got to know one another, networked, discussed and grew as individuals. At the closing session we discussed the notion of calling from a narrow place and receiving the expanse.
Is it necessary to call out from a narrow place, from one's own narrow place? Does one need the expanse? During this conversation I found myself wondering where I was? Am I in a narrow place? Is this narrow place within my movement? within my social group? is it me alone?
and then, what is the expanse? Is it the movement? Is it my peers? Is it world wide Jewry?
Big heavy questions to be asking myself so late at night. I didn't come to any conclusions, other than I needed some sleep. What I thought about was the place I call from, and to whom am I calling? I don't think that there is one answer. Some days, I am in a very narrow space, and the entire world is the expanse. Other days, I am in that narrow space with my colleagues and the Jewish world at large is that expanse. What I thought about is that throughout this incredible experience I have learned how to define myself better. And, It is o.k. to call out to the expanse, because it will answer. Rav Siach, rabbinic conversation, much conversation, we certainly did both with each other.
But, I think the work now is to have that Rabbinic Conversation with myself. I must reflect on this experience, reflect with my colleagues, and continue the conversation. This program was a great start, but if I don't now call out from my space and receive an answer from the expanse, the conversation has ended. I will miss my Tuesday night conversations, and I will hold dear the uniqueness of our group. There we were in Jerusalem, in a city and a state that has so much inner strife, and we were dealing with the divisive issues, in our own little space, we began the conversation so many have run from, now, we must continue it!

Ein Kerem-I see my reflection..

2007-05-05T13:13:00.000-05:00

Last Friday, as part of my Ta Shma Rav Siach program we went to Ein Kerem, a Christian village on the outskirts of Jerusalem. The town is beautiful, with fantastic architecture, wonderful little houses and shops, and many different churches. Our visit was one that allowed us to see the vast parts of this country and even city that are not fully Jewish. We visited a few different churches, understood a bit of the plight of John the Baptist. We met iwth a Franciscan Father who allowed us to enter into his world.
His view brought me back to earth, his way of life grounded me. Father Furguss owns nothing personally because he will then depend on God for everything. He took a vow of Poverty, not that he will always be in want, but that he will live with the basics. His words shook me, made me realize how much I take so many things for granted. How, I spend so much of my time searching, looking, wanting, yearning, but perhaps is i spent some time reflecting on what I have, what I use, I would see that I have enough.
Father Furguss also said "one can loose faith unless they reflect on what they believe in." So often I forget to take a step back and reflect on what I believe in, on what is happening in my world, on what I feel. So often I get caught up in the moment, in the future and forget to reflect on the past, on what was, on what made me.
This call out on a Friday brought me back to my roots, made me reflect, find my center, and long for some good quality time in AB West. It is true, without reflection, I would be lost. The lesson learned fit so well with the purpose of Rav Siach. we engaged in conversation with those whose outlook on the world varies widely from our own, yet we found common ground, we opened the discussion, we engaged.

You don't know what you've got till it's gone!

2007-04-25T05:06:00.000-05:00

I think this is very true. Not that I have lost something, but that I am realizing how quickly this year has gone by, how soon it will end, how much I have fallen in love with this country despite all the irritants, how sad I will be to leave. Everyone knows I have had points of wanting to leave this year, but I really have loved almost every minute of being here. LIfe here is hard, challenging, frustrating, but it is also beautiful, simple and perfect.
I love that the country shuts down for Shabbat and holidays. I love the kosher food everywhere. I love the coffee shops that are so unique. I love the walk to school, the beautiful blue sky and sun that shine down upon me each morning to wake me up. I love the air, the hustle and bustle, the language, the culture. I even think I'll miss being pushed in line, being told No, and all the difficulties.
I have found myself a home, and Israel has a home in my heart. Jerusalem is a tough city, but a beautiful city. It is hard to imagine walking around in a few weeks, not surrounded by history, by my heritage, by my history. There is a connection to this land, that I dont' feel in America. this is my land, this is my place, these streets have so many stories to tell.

This year I have done it on my own, I have survived, I can do it. I made decisions and stuck by them, I took control of my learning, of my life. I have met and made some incredible friends, who will be with me for the rest of my life. I have had some friendships change, some end, but they have taught me what I needed to learn from them, and I have moved on. I have learned about what I value, and how I want to be with those I love. I have learned to be in the world as Eve, and how Eve fits into the world.

But I guess all good things must come to an end. So, from here on out, I will make the best of each day! I will love my studies, but spend time taking in the land, the cities, the culture, the language, the beauty. I will be back, soon, I cannot stay away from a place that speaks to me so fully... So, here I go, booking my ticket back to America, a new person, a changed person...

The days flow into one another...

2007-04-25T04:51:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was Yom haAtzmaut, the day of Israel's independence, which comes as the day before, Yom HaZikaron, the Israeli memorial day ends. The days flow into one another as only they can here in Israel. Only this country can have a serious, somber, meaningful day of mourning and as 7pm rolls around move into a day of the biggest celebrations ever seen.

Beginning Sunday night, most restaurants are closed for the evening, stores are closed, and Israeli T.V. and radio stations are only allowed to play approved content, which means only war stories, stories of victims, or somber music. The entire country enters mourning, remembers the pain and sorrow of years and days gone by.

Monday, I went to Har Herzl, Israel's national military cemetery. I walked through the different sections, learning about the individuals who gave their life in pursuit of peace, in pursuit of this land. I saw the graves of those who died before my time, those who died too young, those who died in the wrong place at the wrong time. Families gathered around graves, spoke about their loved one, reminisced. Families reunited with the family of the person whose grave is next to theirs. Families have a pattern and spend the day with their loved ones, visiting, picnics, tears, laughter. I wandered by the new part of the cemetry, graves still fresh, some onle a few days old, some a few weeks. Graves of those who died while I was here, younger than me. At one grave there were men still in army uniforms, and some without, about 5 of them, about my age. It was clear that they had come here to be with the 6th memeber of their group. They sat there, playing cards, laughing, crying, remembering. A tribute to their friend, their counterpart. And my heart wept for those for whom this is more a reality than I will ever know. The loss of someone so young, or someone who had so much to share. How can we remember? How can we include them? Can the whole that they have left ever be filled?

We walked further into the cemetery and ended up at the section for those who gave their lives in the 1948 war, 59 years ago. As we approached, the Chazzan was chanting El Maleh Rachamim for them. We had stumbled upon the AzKarah ceremony for them. I stood there, tears in my eyes and a heavy heart. Here, 59 years ago, these people died to protect the land that I am standing on. These are the people who fought so that the Jewish homeland could be created. We stayed until they finished, marking the symbolism, the meaning, the wonder.

After a quick trip to the graves of Yitzhak and Leah Rabin, Golda Meir, Teddy Kollet and Herzl, we sneaked a peak at the area for the ceremony that night and headed home to gear up. At 7pm the country begins to liven up. Restaurants open, people start coming out, getting ready to celebrate. Mourning turns into celebration, everywhere you look there is an Israeli Flag, children laughing, running, spraying sheleg, happy to be alive. The music was loud, free and plentiful, Ben Yehuda packed more than I have seen it in years, everyone celebrates, everyone smiles, everyone knows how to treasure these moments. Eventually people dwindled to their own space to get ready for the massive BBQs of yesterday. I walked out of my apartment and was bombarded with the smell of BBQ, every park was filled with picnics, with families having fun, some even brought out their couches and TV.

I met up with my friends Matt and Jen and headed to City hall to see the celebrations there. We visited the Central Jerusalem Prison from the British Mandate period, saw street performers and took in the feeling of bliss that surrounded. I ended my celebration with a BBQ with other Schechter students and called it a night so I could prepare for school to begin again today!

I was here for Israel's 50th, and now 9 years later, as a changed person, I celebrated again. I hope to be here for her 100th birthday, I hope and pray that the celebrations never end, that the joy never ceases, that the memories get sweeter...

This is the Hope that binds us together... HATIKVAH!

2007-04-22T14:54:00.000-05:00

I returned an hour ago from the Kotel, from the national ceremony marking the beginning of 2 days of holidays here in Israel. Tonight began Yom HaZikaron, the day of remembrance for the soldiers, innocent people, etc. who have died in Israels many wars, both military and otherwise. We held a ceremony at school today as well. The sister of a soldier who was killed on duty told his story, and his story became mine. Today, I found myself crying, I identify with the struggle in my heart. It is today that I finally realized how sad I will be to leave this country in a few short months. How attached I am to the land, to the people, to the national identity and ability to identify with so much.

I arrived at the Kotel with my friends about 30 minutes before the ceremony began. We walked by restaurants closing, and people preparing. It is illegal for businesses to be open tonight as it was on Yom HaShoah. The city mellows out. The cars that are usually rushing down my street seem to begin to vanish and peacefulness sets in.

The Kotel plaza, usually filled with black hats and jackets is now fileld with army uniforms, and plain clothed people. The place that has seen so much destruction and bloodshed over the centuries is now clean, calm. The place that has been the cause for so much bloodshed, so many lives lost is now silent. While I usually dislike my experiences at the Kotel, I am at peace tonight. THis is not a religious sight for me today, this is a place of destruction and rebirth, a sign of a strong Jewish State (but not a place of a strong religious state.) . The symbol is there to draw out emotion, not make a statement about who owns the rights ot the space, the rothodox or the secular.

8pm, silence as the siren blasts. The tekiah blasts into my ears, to my heart and soul. We stand there together, united, remembering, praying, hoping. So many stand there, men and women together. The speeches begin, the flame is lit by a woman whose husband was killed in service. We remember, we remember the names, we remember the feelings, we remember the hope. I stand there united with my friends and those unknown to me. We listen intently, trying to understand the speeches, trying to take it in. I do not know what it is like to be in the army, but I know what it is like to loose a loved one. Perhaps not in an act of violence, but I know. I feel the pain in my heart, in the very depths of my being. I love, I hurt, I cry. Tears again. The IDF chazzan chants the El Maleh Rachamim, for all those who died in the service, all those in reserves who lost their lives protecting the country, those lost within and outside the borders of Israel, those old and young, those lost lives to terrorism here and there. He chanted to the memory of the sons and daughters who never said goodbye to their loved ones one last time, to the wife who's husband no longer wakes up next to her, to the child whose parent will not watch them grown and learn. The memories, the sounds wrap themselves around me, and I am lost in another moment.

We recite the mourners kaddish together, one people, supporting one another. At one point, during the Hatikvah, the Hope, one of the Israeli girls sitting in front of my turns and my eyes meet hers. And i see a twinge of sadness, of fear, of pride. This girl knows, she will one day be that soldier, she will one day in 9 years or so be protecting her country, the country I love. She knows, and she looks at me with hope and fear. And my heart goes out to her, her friends, her family. And this is the reality I live in. And I don't know what to feel, how to react. I want to give her a hug, tell her it will be o.k., but I can't say that, I can't know. But, perhaps by me being here, by me supporting the country, but taking a bus, by going to cafes, but living my life, she will see that others support her, that others care, that Jews are united.

And now, I watch the names on TV of those souls I never met. Tomorrow my ears and soul will once again be pierced by the siren. One last blast, one last reminder, one last remembrance initiated by the state. Time will stand still for 2 minutes. An experience I will not have anywhere but here. Tomorrow, I will visit Har Herzl and the graves of those i never knew or had the chance to know. And as the day moves to evening, the bbqs begin, the country makes a gradual, smooth and peaceful switch to celebrate the birth of a Jewish State. Israel's independence day. And we move from death to life, from fear to h ope, and this is HaTIkvah, this is the hope that holds us together, that sustains us, that makes Israel a place like none other. This is the land that I will miss so much when I have to leave, this is the land I am ambivalent about at times, but love in the depths of my heart! I dont' know exactly what tomorrow will bring, but I am hopeful for a new beginning, for a year from now to have a shorter list of new names...

Shomer, Shomer Yisrael

2007-04-22T13:56:00.000-05:00

This past Thursday-Saturday my classmates and I traveled to the North for our final tiyul together. We left early Thursday morning to begin our journey through the lives of the rabbis. Our first stop, Ceasaria. Half an hour before we arrived, our guide put on an "educational film" so we could get ourselves into the right mindset, "Gladiator." This brought ample cheer to our tired spirits from a week of classes.

We arrived and I am instantly greeted by the bluest of blues, the sky and the ocean, the stone remains stand out, jump out at me, speak to me. I am shocked, so much blue, so much history. And I am reminded that just over 2 hours earlier I was in Jerusalem and the sea seemed forever away. What a land, what a place, so much history. Shomer Yisrael, this is our place to protect, our beauty. And I become teary-eyed. SO many will never see this beauty. So many will never make it to his place which intersects with so much of my history, so much or who I am, and represents a perfect space in my eyes of God's creations. And a tear streams down my cheek. So many I love will never come to this place again. So many who I am so close to will never be able to share in this beauty with me. I am momentarily lost in thought, saddened by the realization that this place which s so beautiful and so tied to me will never be visited my those who deserve to see such beauty. I pull myself away from this moment and back into the present, the now, the moment that I am living in, and I return to the group. We read texts about the amphitheater in the Talmud, we learn in the place that perhaps Rabbi Akiva was killed, we learn in the place of the rabbis. The moment passes and we move on to our next spot, with the Talmud alive and well in our hearts, heads and life.

Our next stop, Beit Shearim, the burial place of Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi, the redactor of the Mishnah, the basis for the Talmud. Without which, perhaps my life would be very different. I am taken by the feeling of beginnings and ends that surrounds me. The holiness and beauty of the sight, the green, the flowers, the peacefulness of this place make it seem clear to me why he would choose this place to live. We walk through the burial caves, some of us taking in the history, the stories, the cold stone speaks to us, the empty graves which once contained someone so learned, so important, so wise. Some take the time to say kaddish, to learn a mishnah or two, to study in honor of the men, (yes men) who came before us and set up the system that exists today. And some take the time to see a historical sight and nothing more. Here I learn that each individual makes meaning in their own way, some are able to take it in while the moment is there. Others need to joke and laugh before they can see the beauty and sacredness of the moment.

From there we head to Tzipori, an ancient Jewish town in the North. We see the "mona Lisa" of ancient days, an incredibly detailed and intricate mosaic, like nothing I have seen before. We take in the sights and views, and we heat over to a special, secluded space where study occurred in the days of the rabbis. And here, I have a moment all to myself. Today, I gave my d'var Torah in Hebrew for my classmates. We are all required to give one d'var torah in Hebrew throughout the year. Due to some schedule issues, my D'var Torah was pushed to the tiyul. Here I was, giving my d'var torah, teaching the texts of the foundation of my religion in the exact same place the rabbis stood and taught, and learned before me. What an honor, what a feeling. This was authentic, this is what it is all about. I spoke about "Kehilla Kedosha" and what it means to be holy together, how we can include each other, how we should act, how we can make the world a better place. I spoke about inclusion and supporting one another in times of need. I spoke the values of the rabbis who built the place we sat. We finished with Mincha and each of us wrote our own piyut/poem that was included into the service. A wow moment, a moment I will never forget. A moment where history not only came alive, but I made history. I cannot describe my feelings, only the pride I felt in being who I am, in my learning, in my love!

From there we headed to our guest house, went out for dinner on the kinneret and headed to bed, we were exhausted. Before bed, I sat on the bench swing with my friend A and looked at the moon, the stars, the peacefulness of the kinneret. We sat and talked as if the 9 years between our first meeting and now had vanished.

Friday again it was early to davening, early to breakfast and right on the bus. We kicked in the lower Golan. I am again struck y the green, such a stark contrast to the negev, the growth the life, the warmth. We begin our descent into the valley, quiet, taking in the sights and sounds, the smells of the earth. We reach the valley and begin our hike, our climb through waterfalls, rock walls and cacti. We walk and talk, take it all in. I suddenly feel as though I am learning to walk again. The path winds, the wind blows, the rocks are uneven, the sun beats down on me, the cactus sticks out, waiting to poke me, and the beauty which surrounds me is calling out. Do I look at my feet, watch my footing? Do i take in the sky, the flowers, the colors? I suddenly don't know how to walk, I am like a child experiencing it for the first time. I take a deep breath, take in the blue sky, the smells and the red poppies, and I find my personal peace. I walk sining "Yehi Shalom B'cheilech." There should/will be peace in your palace. This place is the palace. This place is a place of peace, this is my place. And I am not bothered by the fear of Lebanon a few kilometers away, or the sun beating on my head, or the work I have to do. I am living here, in my peaceful place!

The hike ends after a tough ascent, and we all pile onto our bus to be split up for Shabbat. We spend Shabbat at two different Masorti congregations in the North. I spent my time at Kfar Vradim, a beautiful village with a wonderful community that welcomed us, fed us well and helped to nourish us. We spent the time learning about their lives. I saw some damage from the war with Lebanon, I said a prayer for peace. Shabbat ended and we all hurried to the bus to pick up our other classmates and arrived back in Jerusalem around 12:30am today... In time for the Israeli High Holidays... keep reading!!

Yom Ha Zikaron L'Shoah V'Ligvurah

2007-04-16T11:13:00.000-05:00

Today is a very important day here in Israel, and perhaps even around the world. Today is the day of remembrance for the victims of the Holocaust and those who survived and fought for their lives. MY day began as I left the apartment and heading out to be on a main street at 10am for the siren. At 10am the siren blasted, all cars stopped, all pedestrians stopped in their tracks. Drivers and passengers got off the bus, out of their cars. We stood there together, united, we stood there with the rest of the country in silence, reflecting. I had chills, because it is not often that I am able to witness such a powerful event. The moment ended, and it seemed after a brief pause, it was business as usual. I headed up to school for my Hebrew class. At lunch time, we had a special ceremony, David Halivni spoke and gave testimony to his experiences, we read the "holocaust scroll", sang songs of hope, and had beaten into our heads that Israel is the solution.
It felt odd for me this year. Last night, my roommate asked me and my sister and tanta what our connection was to the Holocaust, how did we connect to the even in history. It was then that I realized I have a bit of survivors guilt. No one in my immediate family or the few branches out on my family tree was a victim of the Holocaust. My family made it to America a generation or so before. My connection to the Holocaust is not through stories of grandparents or aunts and uncles. It is through meeting with my Hazzan and hearing his stories of resistance, through the stories of my friends' families that I am connected. It is through my Judaism that I realize the connection between us all, we all mourn, we all pray, we all hope for a better tomorrow. Mostly, we all REMEMBER, ZACHOR... we will not forget, we will learn!!
But, at the same time, being in Israel, I realized that the day has meaning no matter where in the world I am. Israel is the Jewish state, but not the only place where Jews live. Israel didn't exist before the Holocaust, but Jews survived elsewhere. Israel is not the solution to the Holocaust, not the solution to all the problems Jews face. It is the place of our heritage, the place of our ancestry, the place of the bible, and the modern Jewish state. But, it is not the only place a Jew can live, and Now more than ever, I feel it is my place to differentiate between survival and Israel. I am a Zionist, but I am also a Jew who lives in America, I have a history there too. Israel is a symbol of faith, Israel is a homeland, Israel is a land to be protected and cherished, but not put on a pedestal as the only "solution." I'm not sure what I think really, but I know I will always remember the sound of the siren, the chills, the tears in my eyes, the stories of survival and heroism, and the need to support Jews living all over the world...

ANd it FEELS LIKE HOME...

2007-04-15T18:40:00.000-05:00

It is now 2:30am, my sister and tanta just pulled away in their nesher to the airport, and I am overcome with sadness and tears for many reasons I think. First, I am sad to see them go. Their trip here for the last 18 days was a whirlwind of services, holiday, travel, exploration, love and support. We bonded, my sister and I have grown together, today I experienced my first day without her by my side in the last 2 weeks and I missed her so much and couldn't wait to get home to see her again. We did homework together, me helping her, her helping me. We shared stories of the past 7 months, hugged, fought a little, laughed and mostly just enjoyed being together for the first time in a long time! I love my sister, I am so happy to have shared this time with her, She is amazing!
It was good to see tanta, she helped me to make pesach the way I wanted to, the way my mom has made it all my life. She pushed me to travel, see the country, enjoy my time here. We walked, talked, shopped, ate and enjoyed being together! I love my family!
And now, after what seemed at times like an eternity crammed into my small apartment, they are gone and I am alone. I know I will be home in just 2 short months, welcomed back into the loving embrace of my family, and I know how sweet it will be to see my mom, dad, papa, dog, aunts, cousins, uncles and sister. And I will cry tears of joy to be with them again, to be supported and loved in a way only my family can provide for me, I am anxious and excited to get there!
And now, I cry tears of sadness that I am here alone again, but tears of sadness also because I realize my experience here is quickly coming to an end. So much more I want to do and see before I leave, and so much I've already done. Israel feels like home. I felt such pride in being able to guide my family through Jerusalem, show them interesting places, lead them through the maze of streets. I have made a home here, made a family here, and it feels right.
This year hasn't been easy for me, between my new found finicky tummy, and other issues, the challenges of language and school, I have had a rough year. But, despite it all, I love this place, I love the home I have made, and I will be sad to leave this place that feels like home...

This year, ONLY IN JERUSALEM!

2007-04-02T08:53:00.000-05:00

I began a post yesterday about my passover reflections. writing as I have the past two years about how I have changed coming to this passover and how I hope I will change before the next. I reflected on what was special and unique this year, and what bothers me about where I am at. And then, I realized, none of that matters for me! what matters is that I am here, I am in Jerusalem. Last year I said "Next Year in Jerusalem" and now, Here i am! And to make it better, my Tanta and my sister hare here with me! Finally, after 7 months I see people related to me, people who love me unconditionally, I see my family. I dont think I could have done passover without at least one other member for my family. passover is my favorite holiday, because I get to be with my whole family, because we celebrate traditions from years before I was born.

This year in Jerusalem, this year it is different! I tried my best to create a seder meal and seder exactly as I like it, exactly as my mom and dad did, exactly as their parents did before them. But, somewhere along the way, I know it will not be the same! This year, instead of each aunt and cousin bringing their traditional contribution to the seder my Tanta and sister and I spent the whole day in the kitchen tryign to do it all. And i miss my family more than ever! This year, there is only 1 child at home instead of the whole 9 or 10 of us sitting at the table. This year, when the haggadah says that you shall tell your child on that day, my father will have no child to tell the story to because we are both here. But, this year, the story is different. This year I am living in Jerusalem, This year, I am striving to be free. This year, I am growing! This year, I have tasted a new freedom and this year, I value my family more than ever.

This year in Jerusalem, I walked the streets yesterday to find stations of boiling water with lines of people waiting to kasher their kitchen, Only in Jerusalem! This year in Jerusalem, I walked the streets this morning to the smell of bonfires burning chametz, Only in Jerusalem! This year I went to the grocery store only one day before pesach to do all my shopping and got everything I needed, Only in Jerusalem! This year The grocery store will only sell kosher for Passover food during passover and I dont' have to worry about buying Chametz, Only in Jerusalem! This year the restaurants are Kosher for Passover, and I will eat in them, ONLY IN JERUSALEM! And this is a taste of a new freedom, something to be savored!

This time is short and my seder begins in 1 hour and I have so much to do! May each of us know the joy of Pesach in Jerusalem, the excitement of knowing that Next year in Jerusalem will come true! May we be blessed with the refreshment of renewal and rebirth as we go back to our ancestors and move from slavery into freedom, no matter how large or small that freedom might be! L'Shana Ha'Zeh B'yerushalayim for me!!

EDITED! Do Fences make good neighbors? Use your Words!

2007-03-11T12:34:00.000-05:00

Last Thursday, I participated in a group trip to Judea and Sumaria, more specifically, to the Shomron and the village of El Kana. A group of my colleagues and I headed out through the beautiful landscape of Israel glancing at the biblical architecture yet to be discovered, the blooming flowers, and the beautifully decorated "sound barriers" soon to be known as "the fence." I do NOT want to be political here, rather, I want to reflect on some ideas that popped into my head while i watched the fence and flowers flow by through our bus.
First and foremost, I felt safe, I was in Israel, as an American. That is, at the "border crossing" into the territories, an Israeli might need tos how their passport as they are crossing the border, but i did not need to. What I was struck with was the beauty of the land, and the term used to describe those who have chosen to live there, settlers. They have settled the land, and live peacefully in many places with their Arab neighbors; something that perhaps could be a model for the whole of Israel. One of the main ways the Jewish people obtained ownership of the land was to settle it.
The more I looked at the Fence, the more I found myself wondering how building a fence and separating ourselves from one another would promote peace and security. Furthermore, how can we both exist and live together while not even acknowledging the existence of the other side of the fence. I kept thinking about my backyard growing up, which was at the head of a wide open space that connected all the other backyards of the houses on the two streets perpendicular to ours. We all shared swing sets and backyards, bats and balls. We played together some days, and some days we kept to oursleves. But how different would it have been if we had put up a big fence separating ourselves. Would my sister and I have made friends with the other kids or just played together, alone? Would I have been able to learn about my neighbors holidays and share mine with them? BUT THE FENCE WORKS, TERRORISM IS DOWN... A GOOD IDEA, but at what cost??
The final moment of the trip which brought me some serious thought was standing at the end of Israel, overlooking the Palestinian Authority davening mincha. There we stood together, praying, and as I said the last words of my private Amidah, asking for a great peace over all of Israel. And I found myself stuck with the words, paralyzed by what that means, how is it possible. I know that it is possible, I know there will be peace, one day, may it be speedily in our days. But, after seeing the walls, seeing the peaceful coexistence in contrast to the few hostile neighboring villages, I am not sure we have found the solution yet. Do fences make good neighbors? What about that saying parents tell their children... Use your words? But what words do we say?
may we see the day when war and bloodshed cease, when humankind will not again know war. May peace come speedily in our days, may we love our neighbors as ourselves, share the swing-set, learn about each other, live and grow together in the beauty of the gift of God's creation.

ZACHOR

2007-03-10T16:40:00.000-05:00

This evening, on my walk around Jerusalem to get some fresh air, i passed by the Restobar, one of my favorite places to grab a glass of wine and unwind. Like many places in the streets of Jerusalem, there is a sign out front next to the guard station in memory of a number of individuals who were murdered in a suicide bombing. I often look at the sign and continue on my way. Tonight however there was a crowd of people around this sign. Last night was the 5 year anniversary of this bombing. Tonight family and friends gathered and lit candles in memory of these individuals who lost their life grabbing a drink at the same restaurant I shared a drink at on Thursday night. As I walked by, I wondered who these people were? how their families were coping? Were they there with friends? Some of them were my age, now nothing more than a memory and a reminder of the instability and fear that grips this society. This was the first time I passed by one of the signs and saw the candles lit. And then, a disgusting thought crossed my mind. While these people are outside remembering and mourning the loss of their innocent loved ones, somewhere, another community or family might be celebrating the anniversary of their loved one's victory over the Jewish people. Sad and troublesome as that sounds, I have to remind myself daily that what I see as a loss of innocent life, others see as payback for occupation.
I don't want to get political or grim, but I am reminded daily, each time I walk by a memorial of the innocent life lost for my rights and privilege to bein the land that I hold so dear. And I will remember those who i never had the opportunity to meet, those whose memory will serve as a reminder to the fight I will fight as a Jew, the fight to live freely in the world. But, I will not be afraid. I will go to Restobar again, I will continue to walk Ben Yehuda and grab a falafel, visit my favorite coffee shops and live my life, through this, their memory will live on! ZACHOR!!

Shabbat Shalom?

2007-03-10T14:22:00.000-05:00

A few random thoughts on Shabbat! Does the fact that I am a woman mean that I am not worthy of being wished Shabbat Shalom? As I was walking to Shul this week, i was bothered as usual when every man I passed proceeded to turn their head away from me when passing by. On Shabbat morning, more often than not, the people who I pass by on my way to services will wish me a Shabbat Shalom, and acknowledge my existence. But Friday nights, I am not afforded that luxury. This week was particularly bothersome. I was about half way to shul when a guy in full on frum garb walked out of his building towards me. I saw him, and my immediate reaction was to say Shabbat shalom as I do to most people I pass by on the street (perhaps I am too nice!). He saw me in the distance and as he passed me, he turned his head and started to mutter to himself so as not to have even the slightest interaction with me.
Now, I value religious convictions and different levels of observance, but I found this to be rude and degrading. Don't i deserve to have a Shabbat Shalom? is being a woman such a crime that I can't even be wished a simple greeting? 2 of the 3 mitzvoth I am commanded to do according to orthodox practice are related to Shabbat, yet this man couldn't wish me a Shabbat Shalom? I dont know. I am disappointed not because this man doesnt' acknowledge my validity to be a rabbi, that i can't argue with him about because we will never see eye to eye. I am upset because the mere fact that I am a woman invalidates me in his eyes from deserving a Shabbat Shalom! Another Israel Experience!!

PURIM SAMEACH?

2007-03-06T15:35:00.000-05:00

This past week in School we were learning in Hebrew class about Purim and the mixed feelings of some with the celebration of the holiday and that got me to thinking about the holiday. It was strange to be celebrating Purim in Israel. First, because i live in Jerusalem, i was to celebrate Shushan Purim, a day after the rest of the world celebrated Purim. This created some fun questions as the night that Purim was to begin for the rest of the world, i was outside Jerusalem, and wondered what to do about the Ma'ariv Amidah and the additions for Purim. what a strange experience, that I could only have in Israel, living in Jerusalem!

As I began writing this entry yesterday, there were many cars outside my window blasting their Purim cheer for everyone to hear. And while it was quite annoying when I wanted to take my Purim nap, i enjoyed the festivities all around. I spent my Purim with friends, having a good, SOBER time. That's right. This year, i decided not to drink on Purim as many do, but to follow the advice of my dear teacher Rabbi Dorff and instead of being drunk to not tell the difference between Haman and Mordecai, I took a nap. this Purim was about being me and growing. Last Purim I drank too much and I missed out on the celebration and the meaning of the holiday. This year, I focused on the holiday. Purim is another holiday that celebrates the triumph of the Jews over an enemy, but at the same time, others died in our triumph. And, we must not forget the terrible massacre done by Baruch Goldstein on Purim as an act of revenge. Purim is not a holiday to act our of revenge, but rather to remember the gift of life and survival we have. And while enemies still try and attack us, the Jewish people push on, live through it, stay strong.

Purim was a fun 2 days off. I of course stuck with the theme of creating costumes based on my name. thanks Mom and Dad for giving me such a versatile name! This year's winner was EVEning. What could be better than spending the day in my pj's having fun with friends and eating Oznei Haman. As the day came to an end I ventured down to Rechov Hillel for the city wide Purim celebration with live music and all the works. What a great end. Fun and games, music, laughter and smiles, a day without worry, a day of fun, a day of celebration of our freedoms, a day to be me, and show the pieces I hide on occasion during the rest of the year!

ALPHABET SOUP and Pluralism

2007-03-05T16:04:00.000-05:00

This past Shabbat I spent my time on the Ta Shma Shabbaton for Rav Siach, my inter-denominational learning group. This was the culmination of a week of pluralism and alphabet soup. The week began with an afternoon and evening with the UJC and students from HUC (reform), RRC (Reconstructionist), JTS (Conservative) and YU (yeshiva university, Orthodox) gathering together to learn what the UJC does. Might you have noticed that there are a few schools missing? Of the invited schools, the person who was doing hte welcome left out the Ziegler School of Rabbinic Studies at the UJ (my school!) not to mention Hebrew College and the Aleph Students who are also studying in Israel for the year but were not invited to the event. The event, which had the potential to be a powerful networking experience across denominations turned into a big balagan. The event was mainly to promote the UJC and to tell us how important it is for us to support them when we are ordained as Rabbis. I am used to this sort of deal, so that didn't bother me. What bothered me was the lack of acceptance and pluralism along the way. The evening culminated at YU's campus in Jerusalem. As the students began to arrive for dinner, a group of Conservative and Reform rabbinical students wanted to Daven Ma'ariv. When they asked if there was a space on campus to daven in an egalitarian fashion, they were told that they were not allowed to have an Egalitarian Minyan in the building. So the group of us ended up outside in the dark, davening Ma'ariv. Only adding to the already uncomfortable experience was the use of the term "Spiritual Leader" in place of Rabbi when being addressed by a YU leader. I understand that the movements are different, that is why we have different schools, learning institutions, synagogues, etc. but, if we are being brought together to promote tolerance and pluralism, shouldn't we all be acknowledging the legitimacy of the other. I left this evening feeling disappointed about the attempt at pluralism.

Adding to this feeling was the knowledge that the coming Friday I was to board a bus with my colleagues from 8 other seminaries for a shabbat of pluralism. I could only hope that the outcome of that weekend would be better than the attempt of UJC to bring us together. The weekend started out with an incredible hike in the North. Getting up early on my one day off during the week was not something I was looking forward to, but it was worth it. We headed out of Jerusalem and headed North via the West Bank. This was my first trip through the contested area, and I was taken aback by the beauty of the flowers. A sea of yellow, purple, pink, and the green that was beginning to flood the area. There I was left alone with my thoughts on the bus as we climbed north. Alone in my head thinking about the complexities of the country as they tied into the complexities of the Shabbat I was about to experience. And then we passed a lone Israeli flag on the side of the road. And I was reminded of how much I am connected to this land, how much I grow every time i venture outside the walls of my apartment. we reached our first rest stop, right outside the west bank, and it was a mini-UN meeting. People of all faiths and nationalities waited for the facilities, mixed together, and somehow I knew this weekend would be o.k.

After a rather long hike in a slippery hill, and some learning about Truth and peace, we boarded the bus again for the 45 minute drive to our residence for Shabbat. After all the planning, trying to figure out how far each of us was willing to bend and where the line was drawn, we created our own pluralistic Shabbat. I found myself comfortable the entire time, with boundaries set that I was o.k. with, and I was pushed to find a place for myself. While we had a tri-chitza, three sections, it didn't really matter where I sat because I was always a part of the service. the men went and supported the lone Orthodox member of our group, and he came over to our mixed side of the mechitzah for kabbalat shabbat. we joined together for singing overlooking the beauty of the kinneret before Shabbat, joined in with one another striving to push the boundaries and make everyone feel comfortable.

What i found to be the most impressive was the warmth and eagerness to learn from one another that was exhibited by my colleagues. And, while I know this was just one instance of Pluralism working, of everyone coming together, it brought me hope for the future that compromise is possible, that conversation will work, that one day we will all accept one another for who we are, for what we believe in and for the common good.

The weekend was made complete by the end of Shabbat. I spent my afternoon looking out on the kinneret, lost in my thoughts, centering myself, trying to get back to that place of love and inner peace I had this summer. This year I have been on a roller coaster of emotions, not sure where I would land. I have been up and down, and I miss the Eve who smiled like there was no tomorrow, who laughed and loved every chance I had. I miss the Eve from this summer, I so badly needed to center. So I sat there, listened tot he rush of the waters, the sound of children laughing and I centered. I centered on peace and happiness, two things I am striving for, for myself and for my world. And I stared across the Kinneret at Jordan, that country on the other side. The country I look at as I drive Israel's inner boarder. The country I was in less than a month ago taking in the beauty of Petra. The country of the unknown I take in across the Kinneret, across the dead sea, across the Red Sea. the country I stare at so often. And i see the difference between Israel and Jordan, more pronounced than ever as we drive through the populated and built up sides of Israel and see the vast emptiness of Jordan. As I sat at the Kinneret, i found myself being happy for who I am, and wondering about Israel. There were 2 boys there with their dad, learning how to skip stones. they couldn't have been more than 10 years old. And as my mind drifted I surprised myself with the thought that in just 8 years, these smiling boys, carefree boys would be enlisting in the Army as their father had. There was something scary and comforting by that thought. What a complex society this is, yet we must not forget to smile, laugh and enjoy the time we have together.

Shabbat ended with a beautiful Havdallah service. We sat there, listening to the brachot, our faces only lit by the glow of the twisted candle. I felt a sense of calmness and hope in the future. It was the end of a mixed week, and the beginning of a new week. Klal Yisrael is alive and well in my own, isolated community, perhaps one day alphabet soup will be not just another list of organizations working on separate causes, but a list of a united Jewish community. Ani Ma'amin!

SIX MONTHS and Counting

2007-03-05T15:24:00.000-05:00

So, I did it, I have lived in Israel for 6 months. what an accomplishment for me. I arrived not knowing what would come of the year, and while I still don't know for sure, I know I have grown, stretched, learned in ways I didn't know I could. And, I have to say I have learned so much about Israeli society. The pieces I LOVE, the pieces I could do without, and the pieces I can't quite decide what to do with. What a wonderfully complex society to engage in for a year of growth. I have had good days and bad days, mostly, I have felt the pains of growing and changing in a foreign place. I crave 5 minutes with my family, with those who I hold so dear in my heart but haven't seen for 6 months. While I am eagerly looking forward to my reentry into America, I know that there will be a whole in my heart that will only be filled by living in Israel.

As a cool piece of fun information. The Shabbat of my arrival to Israel this year was the Shabbat of my bat mitzvah portion. How special it was for me to read my Haftorah in Israel on the anniversary of an event that led to my decision to become a rabbi. Furthermore, the Shabbat that marked the completion of my 6th month in Israel was Shabbat Zachor, the maftir of this Shabbat; my bat mitzvah parsha. And again, I was able to celebrate me, my Jewish connection, my Jewish Journey! And the Journey moves on...

Little Bo EVE has Lost Her Sheep!

2007-02-28T06:30:00.000-05:00

Last Week, after returning from the fantastic trip to Eilat and Petra, I spent 2 days enjoying the sun in Jerusalem and running errands and then I joined the Conservative Yeshiva and my friends for another day long Tiyul. This tiyul was not like any other Tiyul I have gone on lately. This Tiyul was to a place called Neot Kedumim. This site about 10 minutes fromt he airport in Tel Aviv is a biblical gardens, complete with many biblical plants, ancient ruins and my favorite part, the wonderful hands on learning experience of.... HERDING SHEEP AND GOATS!!! That's right, I herded some sheep and goats with my group.
The experience was incredible because it is the first time that I have been able to actively take part in something so hands on and so natural instead of just looking at the ruins and hiking for hours on end. A must do for anyone coming to Israel!! ANd now, i can check shepherding off my to do list!!

At first I was afraid, I was PETRA-fied

2007-02-21T05:33:00.000-05:00

I know, I am a dork, but you have to admit, it is a little bit funny!! This past Sunday, as part of my Eilat vacation adventure i headed out to Petra, Jordan for a day of discovery and breathtaking beauty. We began the day at 6:30 as we groggily piled into our open backed Jeep and headed to the Jordanian border. About 15 minutes later we were on our way by foot crossing the border. It was exciting and strange all at once. Every time I am in Israel, and I drive south, I look out and see Jordan, a country so close, but so out of my reach, and now, there I was, walking across the border, my own two feet carrying me across a small strip of land which brought me to that country so far away. we arrived, made our way through customs, met our tour guide who promptly began with a Joke: Hey Eve, Where is Adam?! UGH, enough with that, I'll blog about that line later. Anyways, we all hurried to our bus for the day and headed off to our first stop, the port city of Aqaba. While there, we saw the Jordanian flag, the size of an olympic sized swimming pool. we took in the flag and looked back across the border at Israel. There I was on the other side, looking back at Israel, it was a surreal but exciting experience. We then boarded back on the bus, and headed our way to Petra, about a 2 hour drive.

We arrived in Petra, as it started to rain.. ON our way, we passed through mountains as we climbed up to the sight. We saw snow, intense rainfall and then, the beauty and breathtaking wonder of the cenery. We arrived in Petra and saw the colors mixing, the unset and sunrise of the magnificent red rock. The intricate details used to carve into the rocks and create the treasury, the monastery, the tombs. o much history, so many sacred places for so many people so long ago. And unlike some of the sight i have seen in Israel, there are still people living in Petra, the bedouin community supports itself. Camels, donkeys, horses roam throughout the path to the treasury and beyond, the animals are fee, the birds have their home. breathing in the fresh, clean air of the ancient city, walking on thousands of years of History, i found myself at home, taking the the mystery, the sacredness of this fantastical place. It is one of the new 7 wonders of the world.

We hike,d untilt he end and then up a million stairs or so it seemed to the top of the monastery. And while the hike was hard, it was completely worth iti in the end. We arrived at the top, after winding our way thought the various twists and turns of the mountain and there it was in its simplistic breathtaking beauty. the air was clear, the sky a pristine blue, and the views, spectacular. THere we rested, took it in, made our peace, and settled on the way back down. The ipod came out, the music blasting and a sing along ensued. What a better way to pass the time than singing good oldies like New Kids on the Block while hiking in Petra? The perfect end.

We found our way to the bottom, ate a fresh lunch of falafel and hummus, and then hiked the hour and some back through the treasury on to the via sacra until we reached the visitors center and our bus. Words cannot describe the beauty of the sunset over the mountains into the valley as we winded our way back down through the mountains. A day of breathtaking, beauty, history amazes me, well worth it. When we reached the border crossing, a strange sense of familiarity and peaceful ness came over me. As safe as I felt in Jordan, it was good to be home, to walk across the border into the land of my ancestors, to my home.

I like it EI-LAT

2007-02-20T16:42:00.000-05:00

I am funny, admit it!! Anyways, this past weekend I headed down to Eilat with a group of my friends for some fun in the sun and relaxation before school starts up again. Below are some reflections from the road on the way down and then a quick run through of the trip. I cant' think of a better way to spend my vacation than relaxing, getting some much needed sunshine and making new friends!
On the bus, parks of Godliness reflect from the sky through the clouds to the water. ON the bus from Jerusalem to Eilat, and while Jerusalem is the "holy city" i seem to continually find myself engulfed in holy moments, in wonders of creation more and more as I leave Jerusalem. The beauty of the landscape of the country mesmerizes me, brings me closer to God, fills the void I have been feeling lately.

FRIDAY: We arrived at the central bus station at a quarter to 7am in order to make our bu on time. The bus ride was uneventful, i slept, talked, watched the beautiful scenery roll by and relaxed. We arrived in Eilat just before noon, checked in to the hotel and headed straight out for a walk in the sunshine to the promenade. We walked around, felt the water and ate a filling lunch. The best part was feeling the warmth of the sunshine on my face, it had been too long since my last days in the sun. I never realized how much living in LA had made me used to constant sunshine until now. I will now for sure not go so long without a dose of sunshine if I can help it! After lunch we headed back to the hotel, put on our bathing suits and sat out by the pool until it was time to get ready for Shabbat. I had decided to daven alone on our balcony looking out at the pool and the sunset. I had just finished Mincha when the rest of the group came back because the minyan at the hotel was not only orthodox, but there was not even a women's section. So, we all gathered on our balcony and davenede together. 5 women, 2 men, davening, singing and smiling together. We looked out and women and children on other balconies joined in with us, watched and enjoyed. It was a powerful feeling to be bringing in Shabbat in such a peaceful and spiritual way. This was exactly what i needed. We finished up our davening and headed in to the dinner. All you could eat and meat and chicken and fish and lots of salads and dessert, I was in heaven. Following dinner we all piled into my room, 5 of us girls on one bed, what fun!! I fell asleep somewhere between 10 and 11.

SATURDAY, YOM MENUCHA: We all woke up at our own times and davened on our own. I woke up around 8:30, put on m bathing suit and shorts and went out on the balcony to pray. I took in the sights, sounds and smells of the beautiful port. It was refreshing and relaxing and peaceful, and everything I was missing, everything I needed and more. Following davening i headed down to the the all you can eat breakfast which was complete with chocolate yogurt and cake! YUMMY!! After a relaxing breakfast we headed out to the pool where we sat in the sun, read, and swam until a delicious lunch. Following lunch we packed up our beach bags and headed to sit out on the beach at the sea. I laid there, taking in the salty air, the sound of the waves rushing in to the shore and back out. I truly was in a fantastic place, a warm, peaceful place. I found my center, enjoyed the company of those around me and enjoyed the natural beauty at my every vantage point. After we got chilly we headed back to the Hotel for Ma'ariv, showers, a quick glass of wine and then off to dinner. We had dinner at a fantastic, fancy steakhouse in Eilat. Once we were satisfied and stuffed, we all headed back to the hotel for an early night because we were leaving at 6:30am for Petra on Sunday!

SUNDAY: See the next entry on PETRA-fication!

MONDAY: Our lat day was probably as relaxing as shabbat. 2 of the group members woke up early and headed back to Jerusalem on the first bus. The rest of us slept in a bit, had a lazy breakfast again at the all you can eat buffet, and then sat out by the pool until it was time to check out. Following checkout we headed to the marina where we would board our glass-bottomed boat for our ride and viewing of the coral reefs. The boat ride was relaxing, warm and the perfect end to a perfect weekend. We sat back and took in the freh sea breeze, the sights of the Israeli cost line and the Jordanian cost. We passed the dolphin cove, and saw breathtaking fish in the reef. It was perfection in the sun. After the boat ride we headed back to the hotel, grabbed our bags and headed, a bit hesitantly back to the bus station to catch our bus home.

As I sat on the bus, thinking, watching the day shift to night, the moon rise and venus appear, i felt relieved, relaxed and ready to come back to Jerusalem. As frustrating and challenging as it is to be living in Jerusalem, I missed it. I did have a longing in my heart for Jerusalem, my apartment, the streets I know, the familiarity of my city. And there you have it, I liked it, EI-LAT, and I needed it!! I am at peace now, relaxed and rejuvenated. Mostly, I am smiling, sun-kissed and happy!! LOVE!

You're Beautiful

2007-02-14T03:23:00.000-05:00

Alright, so seeing as I am on vacation again, my mind is whirling with thoughts, hopes, dreams, fantasies, etc. And I have been thinking a lot lately about beauty. I try to be mindful of all the beauty in the world, a beautiful cloud, flower, smile, soul. I try to remember to say a brachah every time I am face to face with a beautiful piece of God's creations.
But the words, "You're Beautiful" are rarely said to me, and when they are, they bring a smile to my face. So, make someone's day, tell someone they are beautiful. On the inside and out! Tell someone how you feel...

It's a BEAUTIFUL DAY

2007-02-11T08:39:00.000-05:00

Well, I did it! I finished my first semester here at Schechter last Tuesday and have since been catching up on my sleep, reading and enjoying life. It is amazing how revived I feel after a week without constant learning, grades, Hebrew, sickness, etc. I guess part of it also probably has to do with the beautiful day outside. I think they are all interconnected. I feel rejuvenated and refreshed. After pushing myself physically and mentally to the max this semester, my body clearly needed a bit of time to rest up. And now that the rain has passed, the sun is shinning brightly, the air is warm and relaxing. I feel alive. I am grateful for the sun, the warmth, the beauty of the world around me.

I learned a great deal this semester, about myself, my learning habits, what i value, and where I want to go. But I also learned that sometimes I push myself too hard, and don't stop to take time and enjoy the beauty of life. I don't take time to make myself smile, to remember the good that is very much there. So often this past semester, I focused on the bad because that is what was most prominent in my days, because that was just easier. Now that I have taken a step back, have seen the refreshed me, I can see where I went wrong. Here's hoping this next semester that begins in 2 weeks will be better.

In the meantime, I am enjoying living in Israel again, like I enjoyed my time here before I began classes. I have many trips planned over the next 2 weeks including a weekend in Eilat, a day trip to Petra, and one to Cesaria perhaps. Here I am, exploring my world, finding myself, growing, learning and loving!!

HERE'S TO SMILES AND LAUGHTER! AND OF COURSE, LOTS OF LOVE!!

Putting on the landing gear

2007-02-05T17:10:00.000-05:00

Here I am, a bit more than 15 hours before my semester is over. One exam, 6 dapim of Ketubot stand between me and my break... and I can't decide if I am nervous, excited, scared, tired, crazy. I'm probably a little bit of all those things, which explains why I am up at midnight, writing a blog entry. All I can say about the semester that is nearly over at this point is, I DID IT! I am sure I'll have more to reflect on, but probably after my brain has recovered from an intense 10 days of 8 finals!
What's on my mind now more than anything is life, friendship, growing, etc. For some reason lately, I have had a deep need to re-evaluate my life, my friends, my relationships, and the more I do it, the more confused I am. Perhaps I think too much, which wouldn't surprise me in the least. Or, perhaps I am realizing what I want out of life, out of friendships, out of my world, today. That would be interesting, considering, I'm not sure what it i I am realizing!! I'm not sure what it is, but I hope I figure it out soon, because I'm not so happy with the unstable feelings I have in my heart, head and gut.
Alright, time to finish reviewing for tonight and get some good sleep so I make sense tomorrow in my exam!
Is anyone even reading this anymore?!?!?!

Losing my Religion.... o.k., too dramatic..

2007-01-30T11:26:00.000-05:00

O.k., So i'm not really losing my religion, not really at all. But, I am losing something precious, something special to me. Not losing forever, not even really losing, more like having to share something special to me. Yesterday, my rabbi was announced that he is leaving our shul after 13 years to become Dean of a rabbinical school. And I know how to share, but this is different for me. I have developed a special connection with my rabbi, and recently that connection has grown, he has watched me grow as I have watched him grow. I wish him the best, and know that he will be shaping the lives of so many more Rabbis which means a great future for the Jewish people, but I will miss his face when I return home, miss his warmth and support every Shabbat. I know this is only the begining of our relationship as it grows...

Where Have All the People Gone...

2007-01-26T06:35:00.000-05:00

This morning, I woke up quite early for a wonderful Tiyul with Ta Shma, my Pluralistic learning group. We went to the foot hills between Jerusalem and Tel Aviv, the Shefella. And we hiked, and hiked and hiked some more. And as i was walking, wandering, thinking, taking in the beauty around me, my head returned to a common thought. Where have all the people gone. There we were, hiking, learning, living history, and i have to wonder what it the land must have been like before, when it was lively, when people actually lived there. The ancient ruins, the places where David slew Goliath, the place of so much hitory, so much heritage. We saw and climbed in the caves of the Bar Kochba revolt, saw burial caves, saw the ancient life that was. This is learning, this is history. I climbed, used my physical energy to connect with my spirituality. This wa the learning I have been missing. Here is history, here i what i read about, here is the society that somuch is baed on. Here is where so many wonderous events happened, and there i stood. And strewn about these incredible places, these cities is modern trash. I guess you can't have everything.

It was so perfect to leave Jerusalem on such a gorgeous day. the sun wa shining, the sky was clear, and the most pristine blue, not a cloud to be seen. My mind needed a rest, my body needed the exercies. I didn't realize how cramped and down I was until i left the city. I was free. Jerusalem is a wonderful place, so holy, so full, so incredible, and so wonderful to leave for a little bit. I hiked, cleared my mind, thought, centered and enjoyed the company of my friends, my new friends, and my thoughts. This is what Israel is all about. In one day I wa able to experience the beauty of nature, living history, and the holy city that I love so much. Modernity meets antiquity, and everything in between. How wonderful is this adventure I am taking, how brilliant are these experiences. How blessed am I.

And I was sitting on the bus on the way home, thinking about my friends, my family, shabbat and all I need to do to be ready in time. I sat there looking out my window, taking in the flowers beginning to bloom, taking in the sights. For a moment, i could have been in America, in any one of the states i drove across this summer, and I felt at home. As we approached Jerusalem, i felt a bit of excitment. As much as I feel stuck, stressed and frustrated while I am in Jerusalem, it is so wonderful to come back. And as we approached the city, i saw the welcome sign and realized just how happy I am. How wonderful that they post the times Shabbat begins and ends at the enterance to Jerusalem. It just struck me as nice, home. And I feel at home. As frustrated as I am with certain aspects of my year here, I am happy. What an adventure! Time to finish up some things before Shabbat! Shabbat Shalom to all!!

The Hardest to Learn is the Least Complicated?!?!

2007-01-18T10:29:00.000-05:00

I was walking home today, thinking about my life lately, thinking about the world, thinking about my learning. ANd i started to think about all the hardship, all the struggles, and what I'm supposed to be learning from it all. My life this past month has been a challenge. I have been through more emotions than I can count, more tests, more challenges, but I am o.k.!

The title of this entry came to my head, partly because the song was on my ipod, but partly because I'm wondering how true it is. The hardest to learn is sometimes the least complicated, but sometimes the most. I'm learning lately, that life is more complicated than i would like, and less complicated than I think all at once. Growing is complicated, relationships with others are complicated, living is complicated. But I'm learning from it. The past month, and year have showed me so much about myself, and taught me so much about those around me. I have watched relationships grow and blossom, friendships rekindle and for that I am so grateful, I wold be lost without those. And i have seen some friendships grow and die, some people become close ot me and then push me away without explanation. And i have accepted this, dealt with the pain and am trying to move on. I have grown in my love of Judaism, in my relationship with God, and I have grown with my relationship to myself. I have learned that it is o.k. to be me, that my smile is beautiful and I feel so much better when I'm smiling. And i have learned that I can do it, I can be alone, I can live and take care of myself, I have spread my wings and flown, and surprised myself. AMAZING! And I thank God, for all these lessons and more, I thank my friends, new and old, ones who are still with me and those who have left me, because without them, I wouldn't be able to have learned who I am. And i thank my family for their undying support, laughter and love.

This past Tuesday, at my interdenominational learning session, we had to describe our theology of God. A challenge for me. This summer I spent a lot of time evaluating and reevaluating my relationship with God, my thoughs, ideas, beliefs. They grew and changed with the learning from my peers, the wonderful people who supported me, challenged me, pushed me and helped me grow. These are the people who told me it was o.k. to be angry with God, it was healthy. Something I'm not used to hearing, something most clergy or clergy to be don't really get to express. So, with this on my mind, and all the challenges of late, i created a theology, that is changing every day. Before I post it, i want to say that it is changing, and that my theology is influenced by my today and my immediate yesterday, and will probably change tomorrow. My "God image" reflects my image of a good friend, of something I think I'm yearning for more every day.

Eve's Theology of "God" today: For me, God is the ultimate chevruta and sounding board. Some days my relationship with God is strong, loving, admiring. Others it is filled with resentment, confusion, frustration and anger. God knows, and sometimes God shares the answers. Sometimes it is yes, sometimes it is no, and sometimes I have to wait to find out. Sometimes i need to wait, fight, yell and scream at God, and I know that is o.k. I knwo that is part of the relationship, part of the emotion. God is forgiving, God knows. God sets struggles and challenges for me to overcome and grow from. My expectations of God are high, unreachable, but they are also low, expecting nothing more than to recognize God's presence and support in my everyday life. "God is in this place and I, I did not know it." "Not everyone believes in God, but God believes in everyone because God created them." God is a healer, or helps us to heal those who need it. It isup to me to help others, and sometimes "Godliness" is manifest in me and through others. Adonai Li v'lo Ira- God is with me, I shall not fear. Blind faith leads me to belief, life experience. I believe in a God who is understanding of my needs. It is o.k. to be angry with God, it is healthy. Sometimes I feel like I am on God's "shitlist" but this is o.k. beause sometimes God is on mine! God is in nature, God is in the seasons, the beauty of the wrold aroudn me. God is the perfect song at the right moment on my ipod, and God is in the chance meeting of an old friend in a new place. God is individual, God is there, God listens. God is....
so? more to come!

Sick

2007-01-17T11:08:00.000-05:00

First, I should apologize for the lack of posting lately. School has really picked up with finals only 2 weeks away, and I was sick. Sick, as in I missed school for the first time since probably middle school because I was sick. So sick I ended up in the Doctors office for my first Israeli doctor experience. I'll say nothing more than, when Im sick, I miss being in America a lot. I miss things like Gatorade, heat all day long, gloves on the dr. when they take blood, instant sick scheduling, etc. Since I never get sick, I don't know how to ask for help. I very much appreciated all of my friends support and offers to help me out, but i didn't know what to do, so I sat home, tryingto figure out what i needed. Next time I get sick (hopefully not for a long time) I think I'll take some orange juice and chicken soup, don't ask, just bring it over!
In the meantime, most of school was sick, so the teachers somewhat held back on their teaching. In my Hebrew class of about 10, only 4 people were there one day. I guess it's "going around." I did everyone a favor by staying home. Although, I wish my teachers would do us a favor and spread out the work a little more farily thorughout the semester so we're not all pulling all nighters and tearing our hair out to get stuff done. One day! In the mean time, I have lots of work to do, but have no fear, Israel is still quite the experience. And when finals are over, I'll tell you all about it!

Yehi Shalom Beheilech...

2007-01-03T13:48:00.000-05:00

I was walking home otnight, thinking about the world, thinking about my week, my life, and I know it iwll all be o.k. This past week has presented me with many many challenges. The biggest beign my computer's near crash, and the smallest being the lack of sleep, with my massive amount of homework spreading it's way slowly though my week! I was thinking about how wonderful it is to be in a place where I can go for a walk and just clear my mind. Sometimes, i walk and something happens and I'm out of my funk. sometimes it is when the perfect song comes on my ipod at the perfect time, sometimes it is when i run into a friend who smiels at me. Sometimes it is when i run into someone I have not seen for years. I think this is what makes this city so magical. I was walking aorund with a visiting frind tonight and i see someone who looked familiar, like one of my childhood friends, and it turns out, it was one of my best friends from third grade. AMAZING! We are both living here, and we reconnect on a street corner. I dont' know about you, my loyal readers, but I know that doesn't usually happen to me in America. But here, in this magical city, it happens all the time. And I am SOOOO Happy it does!
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It will be good, but sometimes I am broken. As i was walking around town this evening, getting some air before locking myself in my room to do the homework I have been putting off, I started to think. Why is it that good intentions are always misunderstood, that wanting to help and be a good friend is always thought of as wanting something in return, wanting to be mor e than friends, or something else? I've seen this a lot recently. Sometimes, all I want to do is be nice, help out, be there for my friends, and nothing more than have a nice friendship.
I've found that lately, I am bothered because I give my heart to so many, put my heart into so many frienships because I truly care about people, and they don't get it. I would do almost anything for anyone I consider my friend. I put my heart into it, I want people to be happy, I want to help. But, I think that's my fault for caring too much, for putting too much of me into it, for trying to be a nice person. Is it so hard to ask how someone's day is, to call someone back, to be a friend? Dont' worry, I'm not talking about anyone in particular, I'm just thinking about events I've had in my life, feelings I have, things I've seen. I think it's society, going back to "When Harry Met Sally" and the famous line: men and women can't just be friends. Maybe we can? I think it's possible, I really do. Who knows, i guess I'll just have to go on testing my theory!

Birthright,

2007-01-03T13:37:00.000-05:00

Alright, so I'm blogging instead of doing homework, but I think this is productive too. It seems like it is well into the second tourist season of the year here in Jerusalem. I am longing for the quiet days, but thrilled to see so many people taking over Ben Yehuda, the stores, the eateries, the cabs! I hear English all over the place, stores have great sales, and you never know who you know that will pop up around the next corner. But, I was walking home tonight, thinkinga buot Birthright, and the land of Israel. It seems that a hot topic of discussion lately is Judaism in Israel. Many of the speakers who have come to my school to talk with us about Israel and religion within the state have emphasized the fact that Israel is a Jewish state. that Jews can live freely here, more freely than they can anywhere else in the world. They talk about how the shabbat environment here is unbeatable, kosher food is all around, etc. But, I'm still wondering if this is really true. And, what is my birthright. Is by birthright to the land of Israel? is it to religious freedom in that land? Is it the tradition and law I live my life by?
I dont want to talk about politics, the land, etc. I want to talk about my "birthright" and the State of Israel. I want to talk about the contradictions in the "Jewish State." It seems more and more that although the state is Jewish, it is a place where only certain types of Jews are welcome. Where, the speakers, former supreme court justice's, politicians, rabbis, come and talk to us about how Israel welcomes all Jews, but in reality, my Judaism isn't recognized here. I have actually found that it is easier to be the Jew that I am, to be Jewish and live my Jewish life outside of Israel. Kosher food all the time is nice, but when I am ostracized for showing my hair, or told what i believe in isn't Judaism, told I can't perform a marriage here, or someone who converts into my movement will not be considered a Jew; I am sad, upset, and angry. Israel may be a Jewish state, but lately, i've found that it is a long way from being a Jewish State who accepts every Jew for who they are, for their Birthright.

New Year, New Me?

2006-12-31T11:39:00.000-05:00

I've been thinking a lot lately about the "New Year," especially living in Israel for the year, where, well, this isn't exactly the begining of a new year, in fact, it's not the middle of the year either. Right now, I'm just experiencing another day in my life. My official New Year as a Jew is at Rosh HaShanah, already 4 months ago. And I could just see tonight and tomorrow as just another day. While Israel is a Jewish State, I have enjoyed living a Jewish year cycle. There was no hype or excessive music, shopping, etc. over christmas, halloween or Thanksgiving. And, I have to say, I am enjoying it. My life is much less focused on commercial holidays, and I feel more focused on what is important to me, figuring out who I am!
And, so, I got to thinking. What does this New Year mean to me? I often think about how lucky I am to be in a world where I have more than one new year. My birthday is a new year, Rosh HaShanah is a new year, January first begins a new secular year, and I could go on. What I really focus on is a new start, a refresher, a new me. Having so many new beginnings, I am able to focus on little steps, and check in with myself along the way at each new begining.
So, what am I hoping for, wishing for, resolving for this new year? I think, I hope this year, to listen to my heart, and to find out who I am. I need to take some time for me, to figure out what i want, and do what is right for me. I need to take care of my heart, and nurture my soul. This year, I want to be in power of my life, make the changes I want to make. This year, I hope and pray for health and happiness for my family, my friends and all who are in my heart. This year, I hope for continued growth and learning for myself. This year, i want to be me!