Jewish inspiration Archives - Page 3 of 9

Uncategorized November 10, 2013

Post Bar Mitzvah

I’m sorry if some of you are sick and tired of hearing me talk about my son’s bar mitzvah. One more post on the post-bar-mitz (sorry for the lousy pun) and I’m done. I think.

I’m still busy clearing stuff out of my house, returning platters, writing thank you cards and finding space for all my son’s new Jewish texts, so this post will be done quick and dirty… here we go.

1. “He did a great job!” Thanks! I don’t consider that a reflection on me, just as if he’d flopped I wouldn’t consider it a reflection on me. I’m glad he did a nice job. I’m happy for him, and I’m happy, honestly, for his grandparents. In the grand scheme of things, though, it’s not that central.

2. I’m deep in the FOBISIDI phase. That’s “fear of bumping into someone I didn’t invite.” If you fall into that category (I do, for many other events) I hope you will judge me favorably. Here are some options to help you along:

I goofed. (I’m frightfully fallible.)
You come along with like 10 other people in your category. People I carpool with. People I see once a month. People who all know each other. If I invited you, it would be weird that all those other people didn’t get invited too.
I honestly tried to figure out, if it were your son’s bar mitzvah, would I be invited? If I figured probably not, I didn’t extend the invite. (Could be I goofed…see the first option.)
I know a lot of people and have a ton of relatives. We were seriously limited in space. I still like you. And I hope you still like me.

But I still have a bad case of FOBISIDI.

3. I’m so glad that all Jews pronounce “bar mitzvah” the same way. It doesn’t matter if you are Orthodox, Modern Orthodox, Conservative, Reform, or non-Jewish. We all say it the same. This gave me joy and peace. I know. I’m weird.

4. At the bar mitzvah, my worlds came together. My ultra-Orthodox friends all the way to my non-Jewish friends. Again, this gave me great joy and hope for the future of the Jewish people.

5. My son is different, post-bar mitzvah. While regular readers here know that I’m hardly a fan of big hoopla surrounding bnai mitzvah, it seems that the big deal has left my son impressed with what actually changed for him. I am glad he recognizes that big deal = responsibility. After the lights go down, and the wrapping paper is thrown out, that’s what it’s all about. I do not take this for granted, and continually pray that he gets it.

6. We had a kiddush at our Orthodox shul (mostly for our Orthodox friends who are used to that sort of thing) and a Sunday night event for our out-of-towners and other friends. The Sunday night event, while deeply enjoyable and fun, was not a “party.” There were hardly any kids there. No favors. No activities. What was there? A siyum (completion of Torah study). A short talk by my son, about Shabbat. A talk by my grandfather, telling my son what’s important in life. Lots of my friends talking, eating and socializing. A few words from my son’s principal. At the end, impromptu dancing with my son’s great-grandmother at the center. I’m happy. That’s exactly what I was hoping.

And now. For some sleep…. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Uncategorized September 30, 2013

Real Life

Well, the holidays are all over, and it’s time to get back to real life.

For those of you who celebrate the whole week of Sukkot and Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah in addition to Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur…you know exactly of what I speak. Especially if your kids have been home for like two weeks straight after just barely starting school.

So, this real life for which we pine. What is it?

Schedule.
Bedtimes.
Regular-sized meals (as opposed to feasts).
Work.
School.
Errands.
Crossing off the lists of things to do.

And what we’ve been doing the past few weeks?

Focusing on the meaning of life.
Joy.
Family.
Yeah, food.
Leisure.
Naps.
Praying.

Which is real life?
And which is the part to get over with?

Controversial Observations, Uncategorized September 15, 2013

The Elephant in the Sanctuary

So we’re all saying the confessional, yesterday. And we self-flagellate, symbolically, mostly. And we say we did all those things. But here’s the small problem:

*I didn’t actually do all those things.*

To be sure, I did some of them. Most of them. Many repeatedly and habitually. And maybe for some of the crimes I didn’t commit, I was nevertheless negligent in ways I am unaware. (Sorry for the abstract language but I confess to God alone and in no way am giving specifics here!)

What am I to think when I beat my chest and declare “I did it” when I’m pretty sure I didn’t do it?

Well.

Maybe it means I was too unruffled when I saw others trespassing on this value.

Maybe it means I didn’t do enough to be an example in this area.

Maybe it means I’ve plateaued and have stopped striving to improve.

Maybe I’ve overlooked this value in a very subtle form.

And maybe I’m apologizing on behalf of an unknown fellow Jew simply because we are all connected and all mutually responsible.

(I like the last one best.)

Wishing all my readers a beautiful year.

Uncategorized September 10, 2013

Gone

I did it
I said it
I made it
I saw it
I heard it
I ate it

I know I did
I remember
It’s still in my mind
heart
memory
soul
hard drive
database
always will be.

But

I regretted it
hated it
wished it gone
apologized for it
confessed it
committed afresh about… it

So now it’s gone
erased
deleted
vanished
not in cyberspace
not in the recycle bin
not in a temporary file
not in a flash drive
not in the cloud

empty
clean
open
for newness
to be filled with goodness
with apples and honey
with challah and wine
with joy and kindness
with love and faith.

And that is why
I’m so happy.

Happy Yom Kippur…

Interviews, Uncategorized September 2, 2013

New Year’s Interview with my Yetzer Hara

I’d like to welcome a very special friend, my Yetzer Hara. Her name is somewhat unusual but it means “bad heart” so that sort of explains everything. YH is literally a part of me, that’s how close we are. You know when you have a friend where like you finish each others’ sentences? Don’t know where one ends and the other starts? Can’t even remember a time when you didn’t know each other? Yup, that’s us. I’m going to guess each of you has a YH in your life. If you do, count your blessings.

Uncategorized August 27, 2013

Why I Love Birthdays

Happy birthday to me yesterday! I turned 39. No, legit 39. And I just love birthdays!

First let me say I don’t get anywhere near birthday cards that you buy in the store. Nor do I want my kids perusing them. Every single card for grownups is either in very poor taste or negative about aging. While some may think this is funny, I do not. I think it’s awful.

There’s a general approach in society that the younger, the cuter, the smarter, the faster, the stronger, the more savvy, the better. This approach hardly reflects Jewish values. And so many people who buy into Torah values still dread getting older.

I think it’s all about how you define yourself. We are all comprised, Judaism teaches, of body and soul (which has been a hot topic here). So if you define yourself by your body, well, after 17 it’s all pretty much downhill. You have to start excercising. Your skin starts to sag. The hair eventually gets gray or (gasp) falls out. It’s not so very pretty. I mean, which page in the newspaper (what’s that?) would you rather skim – the engagements, or the 50-year anniversaries?

But if you define yourself by your soul, well hopefully, if you’re growing as a human being, you’re improving every year. You’re learning new things and new insights; you’re more experienced in the wisdom of life; you’ve recognized mistakes and hopefully worked out some of your kinks. So every year is an improvement (and not just because you’re not dead, as Hallmark may have you believe). This is one reason that Judaism teaches us to respect our elders – as a famous Hebrew expression goes, “Ain chacham k’baal hanisayon” – there is no one as wise as he who has experience.

So here I am. 39. I’m better than I was at 29. I’m a little more measured and a little more patient. My pat parenting approaches have taken on a more nuanced sheen. I’ve realized the error of my ways in a number of areas. I’m so happy.

Did I love the birthday gifts, attention, beautiful and thoughtful and absolutely heartwarming phone calls, texts, emails, Facebook posts and messages, and in person wishes that I received? Did I adore the custom black-and-white cookie (my favorite) birthday cake that my husband ordered for me from the Bagel Shoppe? And all the relatives who came to celebrate with me? So much.

But that’s not why I love birthdays. And it’s not why I don’t dread turning 40.

It’s because I know I am soul far more than body. And the trajectory of that aging process, well, it’s in my hands.

How do you feel about birthdays?

Uncategorized June 2, 2013

Seeing the Essence of a Person in Tragedy

Just reading an article over Shabbos about the tragic passing of Shoshie Stern, a 12-year old daughter of a friend-of-a-friend who was hit by a car in Florida and killed instantly. Two stories about the incident just made me stop in my tracks in absolute amazement that a human being could rise so incredibly above her nature.

1. The article’s author, a friend of the Stern family, describes that his wife, Zahava, had dropped off Shoshie at her home, but later received a frantic call from Shoshie’s sister asking where she was. A desperate call-fest ensued, with both families trying to locate Shoshie. Finally Zahava called Denise, Shoshie’s mother, to see if they had heard anything. Denise, who had just heard the tragic news moments earlier, blurted out: “Shoshie’s been killed! She was hit by a car while she tried to cross Palmetto Park Road. She’s dead!”

Zahava was overcome with emotion but a few minutes later Denise called back. Why? To apologize for blurting out the news over the phone, and asking if Zahava was alright, and to ask her for forgiveness.

Yes. Forgiveness.

2. At the hospital, after identifying her beloved daughter, Denise begged one of the police officers to find the motorist who had killed her daughter. “Tell him it wasn’t his fault. Tell him that we are a people of faith, we believe in G-d, and that we believe that this is part of His plan. He should not blame himself or feel guilty, and tell him that he should not allow this to ruin the rest of this life.”

Amazing. That a human being could rise so high. An inspiration.

Thank you to Dr. Norman Goldwasser and Mishpacha Magazine.