The Hosen People - Resilience in The Land of Israel Post 10/7

Some reflections from my recent trip to Israel on an Associated Mission to show solidarity with Israel and to celebrate 20 years of the Baltimore-Ashkelon Partnership. I want to remember what Israel felt like during this painful time of war, hostages, displaced families, and an uncertain future.

Day 1 - Monday 3/11/24

1) Always special arriving in Israel, but especially now with soldiers in the line of fire and citizens held captive.

2) This is my 1st visit to Ashkelon. It is a lovely city with friendly people.

3) Briefed on the war by Major (Res.) Dan Feferman, an intelligence analyst who now runs Sharaka, a nonprofit promoting Israel's relationships with Abraham Accords nations.

4) Visited the Ashkelon municipal war room, where city leaders monitor missile launches and other threats. Met with Colonel (Res.) Shai Belaish, who is in charge of a new initiative called Meishiv HaRuach, whose mission is to help Ashkelon citizens build resilience.

5) Delicious Moroccan lunch. Time to get to know the other members of this Baltimore delegation.

6) Met with Liat Rif and her team. Liat is the Founder and Director of Project Heartbeats, an effort to provide support and mentorship to parents of toddlers.

7) A few minutes to enjoy an Ice Cafe and some beautiful weather here in Ashkelon. The city looks to an outsider like me as if it is fully functioning. Families are playing in the parks. People are shopping and eating at cafes. Amazing how people keep on going even with a war just a few miles down the road.

8) Visit to the Ilay Soccer Association, an amazing club for children and young adults with special needs to develop soccer skills, build confidence, and make friends.

9) Delicious home hospitality dinner, followed by a drive to our hotel overlooking the Ashdod Port.

Off to sleep now, with another packed day scheduled for tomorrow.

 

Day 2 - Tuesday 3/12/24

1) We started the day at a Merkaz Klita (Absorption Center) in Ashkelon, where we witnessed beautiful weaving techniques traditional to Ethiopia and learned about how the center responded to 10/7. This visit was especially meaningful for me, having lived on a Merkaz Klita myself at age 3.

2) We then visited the Ashkelon Resiliency Center (Merkaz Hosen) and met with Talia Levanon of the Israel Trauma Coalition, to discuss how the country is trying to face the impossible challenge of supporting an entire nation going through collective trauma. This word, Hosen (Resilience) would come up again and again on this mission.

3) Driving around Ashkelon, we saw many beautiful sights, including the promenade by the sea, Park Baltimore, and incredible sculptures at the center of the big roundabouts. We also saw several buildings and homes that had been hit by missiles. Ashkelon has been the target of 30% of all missiles launched from Gaza since 10/7.

4) We had lunch with teen leaders at The Amen Center, and learned about their incredible volunteerism (under the leadership of Dafna Biton) since 10/7, despite being in a city that was in lockdown due to falling missiles.

5) We toured the Madaim school, one of the partner schools of our Shevet Achim school twinning project. They have beautiful posters hung around the building with inspirational quotes from recently fallen soldiers, the goal being to help the students feel more connected.

6) We set up a Purim costume pop up shop where Ashkelon kids could pick up costumes.

7) We caught a Mincha minyan at a local Sephardic kollel around the corner.

8) We then drove to the new Agamim Matnas (JCC) for a community reception honoring the 20th Anniversary of the Baltimore-Ashkelon Partnership. The mayor spoke, as well as leaders from Baltimore and Ashkelon and The Jewish Agency for Israel. The Hazamir choir performed as well. I met the person who oversees Elementary schools in Ashkelon, the parents of one of our current Shinshiniyot, a new Shinshin who will join us in Baltimore next year, and an American family that recently moved to Ashkelon and loves it.

9) We finished the day with an incredible dinner near the marina at an Italian restaurant called Gatos. The food was amazing, and I spent much of the meal talking with someone who was in the real Fauda unit. His stories were incredible. But it was also fascinating hearing his perspective on the war, the draft, and the future of Israel.

10) Finally back at the hotel at 11pm. Time to do the Daf and catch some sleep. Tomorrow morning we go to bear witness at Kibbutz Beiri.

Day 3 - Wednesday 3/13/24 (Part 1)

Today is a day I will never forget. We visited Kibbutz Beiri and bore witness to the horror that happened there on October 7th.

As we drove south from Ashkelon, our tour guide pointed out that the term Otef Gaza (Gaza Envelope) is interesting because the word Otef means hug (to envelop something). It refers to the kibbutzim that are spread out around Gaza. But it also is a reminder to us of the hug that all the residents of this region could use.

Visitors to this area are no longer required to wear vests and helmets. But we did have an armed guard. And there were security forces in the area as well. [It also happened to be that the Minister of Education was visiting at the same time.]

We toured the Kibbutz with a resident who survived the day with his family by hiding in their safe room. When asked how his teenage children stayed calm, he replied that teens on the Kibbutz are taught how to calm their breathing during stressful situations like rocket fire. He also said that they gave each child a job to keep them focused. One kept track of what's app. Another watched over the dogs (who, by the way, did not bark or pee even once the entire 20 hours in hiding!).

The Kibbutz is beautiful, full of flowers, trees, and birds chirping. Walking through the houses, you can understand why someone would want to live here. We were asked not to take photos unless we asked permission because some residents wished to maintain their privacy.

About 1200 residents called Kibbutz Beiri home before 10/7. Almost every house we passed had bullet holes, burned out roofs and walls, and signs hanging in front showing who lived there that was either killed or taken hostage. It is so painful to see and hard to imagine. Our host told us stories of his friends and neighbors, and tried to help us feel both what it was like on that awful day, and what the survivors (most of whom are temporarily relocated to the Dead Sea) are experiencing now. He expressed gratitude for us coming and emphasized that this was not an Anti-Zionist attack, but an Anti-Semitic one, which will spread to our communities as well if we don't combat it.

Twice during the tour a huge explosion was heard that sounded like it was 20 feet away and made us all jump. Thus was the sound of IDF artillery landing in Gaza, just a short distance away. The Ashkelon residents among us especially seemed unnerved by this sudden boom, clearly bringing back memories of rockets falling on their city. Our host shared that little things can sometimes trigger strong memories that bring back the terror of that day. At the mall, for example, when announcements are made over the loudspeaker, those 1st few seconds when the crackle of the speaker comes on make many residents of the south tense up.

Another example of the PTSD and challenge of how to keep living is the question of how and when Beiri will rebuild. Our hosted quoted Winston Chuchill who talked about never missing an opportunity to take advantage of a tragedy. He is determined to build Beiri back better than ever, with a vision not of restoring what was, but of imagining what could be, including sharing his vision for a modernized school and child center. When I asked him how residents would be able to return to a place of such horror, he said that this is their home. But he did acknowledge that it will be hard. Even though his own home wasn't damaged, he says that he can't imagine sleeping there again and reliving that terrible day. As for the many homes that were destroyed, they will be knocked down and rebuilt. But they are lobbying the government not to just paint over bullet holes on other homes, but to replace them. When asked whether the Kibbutz might leave one house standing as a memorial to what happened in Beiri, he said that he understands the question but that he personally would not want to see that every day.

I pray for the return of all the hostages. I pray for peace and security. I pray for a rebuilt Beiri. And I pray for the mental wellness of the residents of Otef Aza and the entire country.

It is our duty to support our brothers and sisters who endured this pogrom and to keep awareness of the October 7th attacks and the plight of the hostages alive.

Day 3 - Wednesday 3/13/24 (Part 2)

After a heavy morning bearing witness in Kibbutz Beiri (see Part 1), we drove to the nearby city of Sderot for lunch. Only recently have residents been coming back and tourists returning. In Sderot we met Col (Ret) Grisha Yakobovich, who took us to reporter's hill, a lookout to Gaza that helped us see just how close Gaza is to Sderot and to Ashkelon. We also stopped at a playground with fortified shelters for children to hide in when under rocket attack. And we saw the former location of the now destroyed police station, where a long battle with Hamas terrorists took place on 10/7. Grisha helped us understand the Gaza issue on a much deeper level than we are used to hearing in the press. After a stop for ice cream in Yad Mordechai, home to a famous battle during the 1948 War of Independence, we made our way to Tel Aviv.

We met a guide named Aaron who led us through a Graffiti Tour in the Florentino section of the city. The art installations gave us a sense of the many ways artists are expressing their pain, their hope, and their resolve in the aftermath of 10/7. Sometimes, when there are no words to express what is inside, it takes something like Art or Music to let out our emotions.

After checking into the hotel I took a short stroll along the promenade overlooking the sea and enjoyed a beautiful sunset.

Over dinner we shared how we are feeling after a day like today and talked about the questions we are sitting with. Shelley Kedar, of the Jewish Agency for Israel, led us in a reflection activity using cards with drawings. My card had a drawing of a camping tent and I shared that this idea of being displaced and living a temporary existence is everywhere we look right now (even in our hotel where hundreds of Mefunim, displaced Israeli citizens, from both the South and the North are living). I reflected on the still standing Sukkah that we witnessed in Kibbutz Beiri earlier in the day, and on a language error I made yesterday at the absorption center. The host was talking to us about vocational training (Ta'asukah) that residents receive. I thought she had said Sukkah, and I reflected that a temporary stay in an absorption center is like living in a Sukkah, a temporary dwelling. In truth, I think the whole country is living a temporary Sukkah-like existence right now, unable to settle down, feel at home, and imagine what the future will bring. The way Shelley phrased it is "every Israeli has experienced 159 days of October." There is much more to share, but that will have to do for now.

Day 4 - Thursday 3/14/24

 

1) Our 4th and final day of the Mission started at the hotel in Tel Aviv where we had breakfast in the dining room alongside many families from both the North and South of Israel who have been displaced from their homes due to the war. On the one hand, the fact that Israel is paying to house, feed, clothe, educate, and care for so many of its citizens is incredible. At the same time, I think about how uncomfortable it must be to have to live for so long in a hotel room, to rely on others for food, laundry, and so much else, and to have no clarity on when and how you can return home.

2) Today's itinerary began with a fun volunteering opportunity. We went to a shop which used to host cooking classes and now has been transformed into a center to cook meals for soldiers, displaced families, and families who have a parent in Miluim (reserve duty). We peeled and chopped vegetables, boiled pasta, fried onions and carrots, and cooked potatoes and chicken. In the big picture, this is a tiny helping hand. But things like this are happening all over the country right now. We met one woman who said that once a week she does the laundry for a displaced family that she doesn't know. Many non-kosher restaurants kashered their kitchens through the Rabbanut so that they could help cook meals as well. There are groups tying tzitzit for soldiers and folding their laundered uniforms. And so much more.

3) After a brief stop at a coffee shop (our guide told us that Tel Aviv has more coffee shops per capita than any city in the world!), we drove to a funky office space in an industrial area where we met with Daniel Gradus and the incredible people behind Project 24. Named for the 24 Kibbutzim, Yishuvim, Moshavim, and cities that were attacked on October 7th, this group aims to use an entrepreneurial approach and a Start-Up Nation spirit to bring people together in support of each other. Each of their projects stems from meeting with an October 7th survivor or someone else impacted by the war and listening to their needs. A project is then developed that not only helps that person, but many others along the way as well. For example, one survivor is a 19 year old young man with Autism who loves Lego. A partnership was created with a Jewish community and a Jewish owned toy store in New York. Not only was this young man invited to select the Lego set of his choice as a Chanukah gift. But families from the synagogue also then came to the store to purchase presents which they wrapped and wrote personal cards for, and these gifts were then sent to Israel and given to other children from the same Kibbutz. And the young man with Autism, who had difficulty building friendships in the past, was asked to go around delivering each present to the children. So a community in NY did something meaningful. A toy store that was willing to partner ended up benefitting with increased business. A lot of kids received a gift that put a smile on their faces. And a young man felt like a million bucks. They have other projects as well, such as missions to America for teen athletes who survived 10/7, The Challah Project, in which local American kosher bakeries sell challah on Fridays, and for each challah sold a voucher for a free challah is sent to a displaced family. That voucher can be used at a local bakery near them that has been hurting as well. The family gets a voucher for a free challah and the bakery is helped by bringing in new customers. There are similar initiatives with kosher wine sales and much more. I encourage you to check out their website. Their work is very inspiring. And they are looking for people to join the movement and partner with them on other inspiring projects. By the way, when I asked Daniel how he learned to think like this, he said something interesting. From his perspective, the reason there is so much entrepreneurship in Israel is because of the lack of hierarchy. Whoever has the best idea wins. "If you don't send the elevator down no one will go up."

4) Our group enjoyed our final meal together (the food here is so good!). Each of us shared reflections on what this trip has meant to us personally. Many reflected on the awe they have for the Resilience of the Israeli People. Several got very emotional sharing their own emotions in the weeks since 10/7. Others shared what a deeper understanding they have now about what is really happening in Israel and a responsibility they feel to share that back home. As for me, I reflected on my new understanding of what it means to have a partner city. I had never been to Ashkelon before, and meeting so many special people from that city helped me see what those relationships mean to so many in both Baltimore and Ashkelon. I understood, to some degree, the value of building bridges across the ocean. But I now understand that the kesher (connection) people develop through this partnership is also to others in their own community whom they had not previously known but now feel close to for life. I also shared my amazement of how human beings can hold opposite emotions at the same time. We tend to talk about the roller coaster of emotions, the ups and downs of life. Bruce Feiler describes the oscillating family narrative. But I see now that it is possible to feel incredibly hopeful, loving, joyous, grateful, and inspired while also feeling immensely sad, scared, angry, worried, and guilty.

5) Our final stop of the day and of the mission was to Kikar HaChatufim (Hostage Square). This is the area where hostage families and their supporters have been since 10/7, right in front of the Kiriya (Israel's military headquarters) making sure to keep the world's attention on their loved ones being held captive in Gaza. It is hard to describe the feeling of this place in words, but hopefully the photos I took will give you a sense.

6) As we said goodbye and went our separate ways, our group felt so grateful to have been here to bear witness and express support. So many people that we met this week shared how much it meant to them that we showed up at such a scary time. They really wanted us to know that in their eyes it was no small thing.

7) I took the train to Jerusalem (so smooth and quick!) and was greeted with singing and music as we went up the many escalators (making Aliyah!) out of the station. And of course, as often happens in Israel, the person right behind me on the escalator recognized me from when we lived in Florida 12 years ago.

8) I now look forward to several calmer days with family here in Jerusalem before heading back to Maryland. I'm sure it will take me some time to process everything we have seen and all the deep conversations we have had. But for now, I just feel grateful to be here. Shabbat Shalom

Day 6 - Saturday Night 3/16/24

After a restful Jerusalem Shabbat with family, I went to tonight's rally to release the hostages. What a powerful experience! So much love, pain, hope, anger... We heard from families whose loved ones are in captivity and joined with hundreds of people who are not just going about their lives as if nothing happened, but are Nosei B'ol Chaveiro, bearing the pain along with their fellow Israelis. May Hashem grant us the zechut (merit) to bring home our brothers and sisters safely, Achshav - Now! Please keep posting on social media, contacting your elected officials, praying, and doing mitzvot...

September's Here And The Air Is Clear

When I was growing up (do we ever stop growing up?) there was an annual custom in our family the night before school. My mother would sing us a little ditty that her mother sang to her. It went like this: "September's here / and the air is clear / and you're old enough and big enough to go to school." It's kind of hard to hear it without the tune, but it was upbeat and got us all excited for the next day and the year to come. In fact, this tradition grew roots and to this day my mother will call each of her children or grandchildren the night before their 1st day of school (even graduate school) and sing us the song, and if she forgets then we will call her and ask her to sing it to us. Even if school starts in August, the lyrics don't change. We still sing "September's here."

With schools starting now around the country, teachers are busy preparing for their students, children are finishing up their summer homework, and parents are shopping for school supplies and snacks. There's both excitement and anxiety in the air. Will this be an incredible year of learning, of support, of growth, of friendship, and joy? Will school be a place everyone looks forward to attending day in and day out? Will our social-emotional needs be met and will we be seen?

I'm not sure I thought of all this as a kid. I probably just thought about my new red boots, or my baseball pencil case, or whom I would play with at recess. I'm sure I wasn't aware that my teachers had a life outside of school or that their job was incredibly complex. I'm also sure I wasn't aware of the worry that my parents had for me entrusting my growth and wellbeing to others. So much goes on behind the scenes to make a school year successful. And there will be good days and harder days. But as we gear up for another school year let's sing that song and remember that each year is a new beginning, that none of us is done growing and we are each works in progress. Even if you're not in school anymore, on this September 1st, I sing to you, "September's here / and the air is clear / and you're old enough and big enough to go to school."

156 Weeks of Parsha

This past Shabbat I walked into shul and went to pick up the Shabbat Bulletin and Israel News. I instinctively reached for the Family Parsha Sheet that I make each week, so that we could read it together as a family at the Shabbat table. And then I remembered: for the 1st time in three years I had not made a weekly Parsha Sheet.

For the last four years I have had the honor of serving as Youth Rabbi at Kemp Mill Synagogue in Silver Spring, MD. At the end of the 1st year my wife Elisheva and I decided to create a weekly Family Parsha Sheet that would include Parsha Questions, a parsha themed Cartoon, a What Would You Do dilemma, and other fun features that families could enjoy together at the Shabbat table. Over the years we added new features like This Week in Jewish History, Words of Wisdom, Elisheva's Parsha Challah, and more.

It would take 2-3 hours a week to find interesting material to share and to format it into an attractive looking sheet. But it was always gratifying to see kids, and even adults, reading through the sheet in shul or taking it home. This basically was a very big part of my life for 3 years, and I couldn't relax until I knew the sheet for that week was complete.

I have studied Parshat Hashavua for many years, but preparing this Family Parsha Sheet each week made me look at the parsha in ways I never had before. It was a joy (mostly) looking for new ideas, and it became an anchor for our Shabbat table conversations.

So I guess it isn't so strange that I reached for the parsha sheet this past Shabbat, even though I knew my last one was for Parshat Pinchas. It was second nature. A Chazaka is established when you do something three times in a row. At that point it is assumed it will continue. Well, after three years, and 156 consecutive weeks, I don't know if I need to do Hatarat Nedarim, but I am stepping away from this weekly project. I have started a new position as Executive Director of Jewish Educational Services in Baltimore and no longer have the time to work on this.

Elisheva and I have shared our sheet on social media and with shuls around the country that have asked for it. We would love to develop this, together with other projects we have worked on, such as a Parsha Cookbook and ParshArt activities, into a website or book for families to enjoy. In the meantime, the archives are on the KMS website. You can see the way the sheet improved over the years.

Even though I am stepping back from this project for now, it has inspired me to find fun ways of bringing parsha to the whole family and making Shabbat meals Torah centered. There is so much amazing Torah on the internet right now and there really is something interesting for everyone.

I hope this inspires you to learn parsha each week and to find meaningful projects in your life as well.

If You Could Have Lunch With Anyone In The World

I was once asked a very interesting question during a job interview: If you could have lunch with anyone, past or present, who would it be? I wasn't expecting that question, but what came to mind at the moment were 3 people: Yehoshua Ben Gamla (who started the Jewish Day School movement), Natan Sharansky, and Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. I'm not sure why those specific names came to me at that moment, but sometimes, even if a different or better answer might come with more time to think, it is interesting to see what your instinct comes up with.

Over Pesach I posed this same question to members of our family (from the Grandparents to the Grandchildren) and received such an eclectic range of answers:

Nancy Reagan, Genghis Khan, Thomas Edison, Princess Diana, Golda Meir, Aaron Judge, David Ben Gurion, Robin Williams, Rashi, Sandra Boynton, Menachem Begin, Henry IV, David HaMelech, Devorah, Rivkah Imeinu, The Rogatchover Gaon, Rav Meir Shapiro, Yogi Berra, Major Biden (the President's dog), Noach, Ulysses S. Grant, Any random dude from 1941, Paul McCartney, Dwight Eisenhower, Abraham Lincoln, and Betzalel.

This was a really interesting exercise, which engaged all members of the family from younger to older. And it was very fascinating to listen to what each person would want to discuss with their guests. We even joked about what an interesting scene it would be if all these guests came together for one big meal.

Pesach is a time when we talk about our journeys, reflecting on where we have come from, what we have been through, and where we are heading. It reminds us that each of us goes through moments when we must choose our path. Do we remain in the status quo, even if it is less than ideal, or bravely venture into the risky unknown, hoping for a better tomorrow? My mother always asks us at the Seder: if you were in Egypt would you have left? The Midrash says that 80% of Bnei Yisrael remained in Egypt, something that seems shocking when you think about the slavery they lived under. But sometimes it is easier to remain in the familiar than to venture into the wilderness.

So I pose a simple question to you: who would you have lunch with? And what would you want to ask them? Would it be a great grandparent? Someone whose work changed the world for the better? Someone who had to make a difficult choice? Ask your family members who they would meet. And then ask yourself one more question: if your great grandchild 100 years from now got to meet you, what do you think they would ask you?

Hiding and Seeking on Pesach

Tonight we will take a feather, a spoon, and a candle and search our homes for Chametz (Bedikat Chametz). Many even have the custom of putting out 10 pieces of bread for the children to find [if you do, make sure someone writes down all 10 spots so that you don't miss one!]. Symbolically, we are reminded to search and destroy not only the physical crumbs of Chametz, but the spiritual crumbs as well, cleansing ourselves of any character traits which do not reflect our true nature.

I was thinking about this theme of hiding and seeking and realized that it shows up throughout the Pesach holiday:

-For 430 years Hashem was "hiding" and waiting for the exact moment when He could fulfill His promise to Avraham to redeem Bnei Yisrael from Egypt (Rashi Shemot 12:42). 

-Moshe also was hiding out in Midyan, and according to the Midrash (Shemot Rabbah 2:2) he was searching for his missing sheep when he came across the Burning Bush.

-During Makkat Bechorot, Bnei Yisrael are hiding in their homes while God strikes the Egyptian Firstborn.

-According to the Talmud (Sotah 13a), while everyone else is in a rush to leave (to the extent that they did not even have time for the dough to rise!) Moshe is running around Egypt looking for Yosef's bones, because he knows they will not be able to leave unless they fulfill their promise to take Yosef's bones with them.

-On the Shabbat of Pesach we read Megillat Shir HaShirim, Song of Songs, which uses an allegory of a lover searching for his soulmate to depict our search for God in our lives.

-At the Pesach Seder we do many things "to get the children to ask" such as hiding the Matzot/Seder Plate. We want them to be alert, to notice things, to ask questions.

-We open the door for Eliyahu HaNavi, searching to see if he has visited our homes (does anyone else check the Kos Shel Eliyahu to see if the wine level seems to be lower?].

-And of course, we hide the Afikoman and have the children search for it. [some families have the children then rehide it and make the adults search as well.]

Why all this hiding and seeking on Pesach?

Let's focus in a little more on the search for the Afikoman. The step of the Seder when we find and then eat the Afikoman is called צפון, which means hidden. It is related, I think, to the word מצפה, which means to expect or look forward to something [like the Rashi quoted above who says that Hashem was looking forward to ("מצפה") the day of redemption for 430 years]. 

You see, when something is hidden or unclear we have two choices. We can move on and ignore it, or we can search for it. It depends how important it is to us. I remember, as a child, playing Hide and Go Seek with my friends during recess. Everyone wanted to have a turn to Seek. You had to close your eyes and count to 30 while everyone else hid, And then you could run around and find everyone. It was fun to hide and not be caught. But it was even more fun to find everyone as the seeker. Of course, every once in a while there would be someone whose hiding spot was so good that no one could find them. At first this would be fun, with all the kids trying to help the seeker find the last holdout. But after a couple of minutes people would just give up and say something like "come out come out wherever you are! You win! We're starting a new round!" 

Maybe Pesach is coming to remind us that Hashem is always close to us. He loves us and wants to connect. But we have to do our part to seek Him out. Geulah (Redemption) comes only when we search for it.

We all search for things in our lives. We search for a soulmate with whom to share our journey. We search for the keys to building our families and having children. We search for a career that is meaningful and fulfilling. We search for friends and mentors, meaning and growth. Sometimes those searches take longer than others. It can feel, at times, pointless. The temptation to throw in the towel, rather than continue searching, is there. And we have to make a choice. Are we going to give up and move on, settle for the status quo, or keep searching until we find what we are looking for? When something is צפון (hidden) will we keep being מצפה (looking forward and expecting to eventually find it)?

I wish us all this Pesach that we should find the beauty in the search itself (not just in the end result). Put out those 10 pieces of bread. Open the door for Eliyahu. Hide that Afikoman. Because sometimes it is the search itself which builds character and strength and faith, even when it takes longer than we hoped.

46 on 4/6

Today is my 46th birthday! And it's April 6th (4/6)!

It's funny. I do look forward to my birthday each year. But I also am one of those people who often gets that feeling like, "what have I really accomplished so far?" So birthdays often bring mixed emotions.

But as I get older, I find myself focusing more on process than product, more on the person I am always striving to become than on the person who has done _____ on his resume. 

For a long time I measured my sense of worth by my perception of what I thought other people thought of me. And while I am not going to pretend that that doesn't matter to me, as I get older I am more interested in whether I feel like I have grown in the past year, and whether I feel like I am on a path of growth for the coming year. Because it's not about how far you have come, but about where your journey will take you next.

I find myself grateful for the people in my life. I am blessed with the most loving and supportive family. I am married to my best friend. And my biggest pride in life is not my resume, but my 3 amazing children.

So maybe I'm feeling a little sentimental. But cut me some slack. It's my birthday! And I'm having surgery tomorrow which makes me reflective. Here are a few things I have learned along the way so far. I can't wait to continue learning even more:

1) Appreciate the people in your life. Don't take them for granted. Tell them what they mean to you.

2) Don't stress over the things that don't really matter. Do your Hishtadlut (effort and preparation) and leave the rest to Hashem.

3) Be kind to others. When you walk into a room don't focus on where you will feel most comfortable. Look for where you can make others feel good.

4) Stay humble. It's better to shine a spotlight on others than on yourself. The best feeling in the world is when you help someone else see their own value and discover their signature strengths.

5) Be Curious. Always look to learn new things. Read, read, and read some more. Every few years I discover areas that I never realized were so fascinating. This world is incredible and all we have to do is open our eyes.

6) It's ok to recharge with alone time. I find people really interesting. I believe that you can talk to any person on planet earth and find something fascinating and meaningful about their lives. But I also know that sometimes I need to refuel by being alone. That's ok.

7) Look beneath the surface. There's almost always something deeper than what you see. For example, we are all walking around with certain worries, anxieties, or pains that are invisible to others. When you really look and listen you can connect with other people on a deeper level.

8) Be Creative. It's so much fun to create. You don't have to be a great artist to be creative. All it requires is the willingness to think out of the box, use your imagination, and consider new possibilities.

9) Try to see others' perspectives. I'm writing my dissertation on this topic. Almost all conflicts melt away if we learn how to look for and respect other perspectives than our own, even if we disagree with them. This is perhaps the most important skill we can learn and we can teach our children.

10) Always feel God's presence in your life. Hashem is inside each and every one of us, in our Neshama (soul). He is with us when we feel joy or sadness, worry or gratitude, anger or love. He is with us when we feel at our best and at our lowest. He is with us when things are clear and when they are cloudy. He is with us when we feel close to Him and when we do not. We are never alone, and He never gives up on us. He knows us better than we know ourselves and never stops believing in us. Nothing can ever get in the way of God's love for us.

Anyway, I could probably keep going. But this list was written quickly, off the top of my head. I wonder how I will feel when I look back at it later. Will I feel like I missed some important things? No doubt. But this is where my head is at on  this 4/6/22 as I turn 46. Thank you to my parents for bringing me into this world and raising me the right way. And thank you to Hashem for bringing me to this point. I pray for many more years of health, happiness, and growth, as I continue on my life journey of becoming the person I am meant to be.

The Thanksgiving Tablecloth

I think I am still full from the Thanksgiving feast last night which we enjoyed with my parents and siblings. Thanksgiving has long been an important holiday in our family. We celebrate the freedoms of living Jewishly in America and take time to appreciate each other as a family. As a kid, my parents would drive us each year from Boston to New York to celebrate with our Grandparents. Extended uncles, aunts, and cousins would gather together to reconnect. And then we would stay for a quieter Shabbat. Though the drive could be long due to traffic, we looked forward to it every year. There were certain "characters" that you looked forward to seeing, as well as annual rituals and jokes that never got old.

As adults we now gather at my parents home. When we lived in Florida and then Texas we often could not make it for Thanksgiving. But now that we live in the same town as my parents and brother it is a relaxing weekend, sans travel, of being with family, raking leaves, and reading good books. We are so grateful to live near family finally and are excited to see family members who come in for the weekend.

For many years Thanksgiving involved little babies and children. Now, the youngest grandchildren, our twins, are in High School. In fact, we are in the 1st few years of the stage where these grandchildren are getting married, so slowly but surely our family, bli ayain harah, is growing even bigger.

My parents always get a sentimental look over their faces at some point in the meal, enjoying having everyone together. The way my mother puts it is "my chickens are all under one roof." We video chat with anyone who is not able to make it in person that year. This year, Baruch Hashem, my parents have two grandchildren who have made Aliyah and are living in Israel!

The food is delicious, though I hope you will not lose respect for me if I admit that I am not a fan of Turkey. I enjoy the meat soup, the hot dogs in a blanket, the brisket, the sweet potato pie (a Grandma Levitt special that we carry on), the stuffing, and the many pies for dessert. We go around and share things we are grateful for. We take turns watching football in the den while we digest. Now that the grandkids are grown it is so fun to schmooze with them and catch up.

But the most important ritual we have is the Thanksgiving Tablecloth. Going on about 20 or so years now, this tradition is something to which we all look forward. We each take a different color permanent marker and write something on the tablecloth. We write our name and the year as well. It can be something for which we are thankful, something funny, or a family update. After Thanksgiving my mother-in-law or sister-in-law embroider over the ink so that it lasts forever. 

I think we are just about to complete our 2nd tablecloth and might have to start a 3rd next year. It is fascinating to look over some of the entries from the past. You can see traces of hands and feet, funny quotes, birth updates, political opinions, sports celebrations, jokes, and so much more. You can see the life of a family over time. And we enjoy reading old entries and reminiscing about the past. Our kids can not only read what their Great Grandparents wrote before they died, but even trace their hands over their handwriting. This year our daughter in Israel asked us to find the spot where she had written a few years ago "Where I Am This Year: Junior Year Stern College. Thinking Of Doing Graphic Design In Israel." And to add "Did It 2021!" My entry this year, to mark this moment in our family history, was short and sweet: "Baruch Hashem for Vaccines - 2021." Last year we were able to be together outdoors, in socially distant pods. But this year we are all vaccinated and were able to be together inside again.

It is important for families to have traditions and rituals, to share stories and repeat old jokes. To show the younger generation that we can overcome all challenges by sticking together, and that they should never take each other for granted. I am grateful to be part of such a loving family and excited to see how our story continues.

You could take away the football, the hot dogs in a blanket, the multicolored leaves, and it would still be Thanksgiving. But it just wouldn't feel the same without the Thanksgiving Tablecloth. It's what brings us together as a family and it will continue to do so for many years to come.

Wishing you and yours a Happy Thanksgiving

It's Been Quite An Odyssey

Driving home today I noticed that our Honda Odyssey minivan is at 99,999 miles. Which is amazing for a lot of reasons, especially considering that it is 14 years old. We bought this car the same week that our twins were born. I remember going to the dealership with my dad that Sunday and saying "we're not buying a car today. We're just going to look." But our family of 3 had just grown to 5 and we got a good deal. Who would have known that, bli ayin harah, this car is still taking us places all these years later.

Over the years this van drove us to school and did carpool to practices. It took us on road trips from Florida to New Jersey and from Houston to Santa Fe, and moved us and our stuff from Florida to Texas and later from Texas to Maryland. It protected us through two accidents and one blown out tire on the highway. It survived flooding and having its entire carpeting replaced. It has lived in 5 different homes over the years and seen its precious cargo grow from infants to teenagers. Our eldest learned how to drive in it and later used it to move into college and to get to the airport for her Aliyah.

I hope we will have a lot longer with this car. But she is starting to show her age a bit. At some point we will have to replace her. Even though she is just a car, she represents a lot of memories and has played an important role in our family. So here's to our Honda Odyssey who has been a big part of our journey. Thank you for the ride.

My Favorite Jewish Moment Of The Year

Simchat Torah is unlike any other day of the Jewish year. We dance with the Torah, bless the children together under the Tallit, and give each member of the community an Aliyah. I know different shuls may have different minhagim. And I know that not everyone finds it easy to connect via dancing. Simchat Torah can feel, at times, a little Hefker. Some people are dancing. Others are already getting aliyot. Some attend a shiur. Others are making kiddush. Children are running around. No one seems to know exactly when Kol HaNearim will start. Like I said, Simchat Torah is different.

Growing up, there were two main things I looked forward to on Simchat Torah (other than, of course, the candy bags). Both may have been unique to our shul in Boston. One was the custom we kids had to find two men standing around during Hakafot and try to tie their Tallit strings together so that when their conversation ended and they went their separate ways their Tallitot would not go with them. The adults would shoo us away like flies, but we found great pleasure in trying to get away with this. Looking back now, I suspect there may have been a few men with a twinkle in their eye who pretended not to notice so that we could feel Simcha on this special day. The other thing we looked forward to, even though we didn't understand half the jokes, was the Meshugane Rebbe, a performance of two men in the community who did a routine from the Bimah in which one member pretended to be a visiting Rebbe who spoke only Yiddish, while the other acted as his translator. The translation never matched the Yiddish, I am told, and that's where all the jokes came from. I didn't catch the punchlines, but will never forget the image of all the grownups laughing hysterically in shul. As a kid, Simchat Torah was a clear message that Judaism is a religion of joy and that having fun, even in shul, was ok.

As I got older, however, and started to fall in love with learning Torah, I gained a very different appreciation for Simchat Torah, chaos and all. The idea of really rejoicing over the gift called Torah is something special if you allow yourself to get into it. It was most likely in Yeshiva that Hakafot really started being special. I know teenagers often have more energy than some of us adults, but letting the singing penetrate our souls, and using our entire body to celebrate Torah, brings a feeling that is hard to reach throughout the year.

But I still haven't gotten to the highlight of the day for me. My absolute #1 favorite moment of the Jewish year. And that is when we come back together to finish reading the Torah, and then open a 2nd Torah and start reading all over again from the beginning. It gets me every time. The special trop, the chuppah (or tallit) over the bimah, the fanfare given to Chatan Torah and Chatan Bereishit, the Chazak Chazak V'Nitchazek. I just find the entire symbolism of finishing and starting over again so powerful. Like the Hadran we recite when making a siyum, which pledges that we hope to return and learn this sefer again, Simchat Torah is a communal, even National, Siyum HaTorah, in which we celebrate everything we have learned this past year and pledge to keep learning even more deeply in the year to come.

There's a beautiful story brought down in the sefer Hegyonei Halacha (vol. 3) by Rav Yitzchak Mirsky. There was a man standing off to the side during Hakafot. The Rabbi approached him to invite him to join the dancing. But the man said, I didn't learn much Torah this year so what right so I have to dance with it like all of you? The Rabbi smiled and reminded the gentleman that there are two Chatanim on Simchat Torah. The Chatan Torah for finishing the Torah and the Chatan Breishit for starting it again. Even if you don't feel like the Chatan Torah who learned a lot, you can still be the Chatan Breishit who has hopes to start learning now.

This is why this moment is my Jewish highlight of the year. There are other great moments as well. Neilah of Yom Kippur, the Pesach Seder, Shavuot night... But on Simchat Torah, we remind ourselves that there is no such thing as ever finishing Torah, that each time we open it we find new meanings and new inspiration. So this year, try to lean into the chaos of Simchat Torah a little bit more. Tie someone's Tallit. Put a child on your shoulders and dance. And make sure to be there as we finish reading the Torah and immediately start again.

Chag Sameach

What Owls Can Teach Us About Teshuva (A Yom Kippur Drasha)

 I. The Shabbat Owl

A couple of weeks ago, on the last Shabbat of the year, just 3 days before Rosh Hashana, I was having a cup of coffee and reading before shul when I heard a lot of noise from the backyard. There were lots of crows flying around, which we have never seen in our yard before. And then it got even stranger. Sitting calmly in the tree, camouflaged so that we almost missed them, were two owls. That, we definitely had never seen before! The owls would occasionally swivel their heads slowly to see what was happening, but they remained otherwise as still as can be. It was amazing to see how the owls could turn their heads 270 degrees and see all around them without moving the rest of their bodies!

Since I am always trying to look for meaning in my life, I thought to myself, what are these owls here to teach me? They may not have been bringing me some mail, like in Harry Potter, but maybe they were sending me a message nonetheless. It got me thinking about my own ability to stay calm under pressure, to not allow stress from my environment to ruffle my own feathers, and to be flexible and see things from different perspectives.

We talk a lot about having a Growth Mindset (rather than a Fixed one), but are we as flexible as we think? Are we willing to try and see things from different perspectives? Or is it easier to maintain our views, our habits, and our familiar patterns? It’s true, owls have 14 vertebrae in their neck, whereas we have only 7, but maybe we too can learn to swivel and pivot a little more so that we can grow as well.

II. A Time To Pivot

The word Teshuva sometimes makes people nervous (in the same way that the word Change does). Because it implies that I have to give something up or move out of my comfort zone. It also suggests that there is something wrong with me, that I’m not good enough.

Even when we do identify an area we would like to work on, it can feel daunting to imagine all the work it would actually take to achieve the goal. So, more often than not, we resign ourselves to the status quo and assume it is too late to reinvent ourselves.

But what if Teshuva is not about change, but about returning to who we already are deep down? And what if, rather than implying a huge project, it is actually as easy as pivoting our heads, like an owl? What if changing our perspective just a little bit would help us see our lives in a completely different way?

III. Rebbe Elazar Ben Durdaya

Let me share with you an incredible story from the Talmud (Avodah Zarah 17a) about someone who was able to make a pivot that changed his entire worldview.

Chazal tell us about a man named Elazar Ben Durdaya. Let’s just say, he wasn’t a role model for others. This man, whose last name, Durdaya, means spoiled grapes, dedicated his life to pursuing pleasures of the flesh. He spared no expense or effort to live a life of debauchery and hedonism. He finally reaches a turning point where somehow he comes to the realization that he has wasted his life, and Elazar decides to do Teshuva. The Talmud recounts how he turns to the mountains and hills and asks them to intercede on his behalf, but they respond that they are busy davening for themselves. Elazar then turns to the heavens and the earth, and then to the sun and the moon, who give him the same answer. Finally, realizing that he has no one else to rely on but himself, Elazar says אין הדבר תלוי אלא בי, the matter depends only on me. He places his head between his knees, cries out from the depths of his soul, and dies. A Bat Kol, a heavenly voice, comes out and says רבי אלעזר בן דורדיא מזומן לחיי העולם הבא, Rabbi Elazar Ben Durdaya is destined for life in the World To Come.

What a powerful lesson in Teshuva! On the one hand, this story teaches us that it is never too late to do Teshuva. At the same time, it emphasizes the need for taking personal responsibility, for owning our mistakes and growing from them. We make so many excuses for ourselves in life, but only when we say אין הדבר תלוי אלא בי, the matter depends only on me, do we start to make real progress.

The name Elazar, which means God helps, reminds us that Hashem will help us in our Teshuva. Hashem tells us (Malachi 3:7) “שובו אלי ואשובה ”אליכם - Turn back to me and I will turn back to you. And Chazal (Yoma 38b) teach that “בא לטהר מסעיין אותו” - One who comes to be purified will be supported. But it has to start with us. 

IV. Yesh Koneh Olamo B’Shaah Achat

However, that’s not the end of the story. The Gemara concludes with the following postscript:

בכה רבי ואמר יש קונה עולמו בכמה שנים ויש קונה עולמו בשעה אחת

When Rebbe (Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi) heard this story of Elazar ben Durdayya, he wept and said: There is one who acquires his share in the World-to-Come only after many years, and there is one who acquires his share in the World-to-Come in one moment.

Why did Rebbe cry? 

Was he jealous that he had dedicated his entire life to Avodat Hashem (serving Hashem) whereas Elazar Ben Durdaya earned his share in one moment? Maybe he felt that this wasn’t fair! Similarly, this may also be why Yonah tries to run away from Nineveh. 

Or, maybe Rebbe was worried that if people see Elazar getting into Olam Habah by doing Teshuva at the last minute, they will push off doing Teshuva as well, assuming they will have the opportunity to set things straight down the road one day. To counter this attitude the Talmud (Shabbat 153a) quotes Rebbe Eliezer, who teaches that one should repent one day before his death. Asks the Talmud, but how do you know when you will die? And the answer is that we do not know when we will die, and therefore we must always be doing Teshuva.

A 3rd explanation of why Rebbe cried is quoted in the name of Rabbi Yissocher Frand, who posits that Rebbe cried because he realized from this story the power of each and every moment. If someone can earn their share in Olam Habah in one moment, that shows you the power of each moment. Rebbe may have felt a sense of loss for the moments of his life of which he did not take full advantage.

But now let’s go back and take a closer look at what Rebbe says: “יש קונה עולמו בשעה אחת,” there is one who acquires his share in the World-to-Come in one moment. Is that really true? Is it really possible to achieve your life’s mission in just one moment?

When I think of this, I think of two baseball players, both of whom are known especially for one moment in their long, successful careers. 

Sandy Koufax, a lefty pitcher for the Dodgers, who happened to be Jewish, is the youngest player ever inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame. He won 3 Cy Young awards and one MVP. But he is most known for one day in 1965, when he refused to pitch in Game 1 of the World Series which fell on Yom Kippur. 

In contrast, Bill Buckner, who played 22 seasons in the majors, was an All Star, won a batting title, and had 2,715 hits, is known for a moment of baseball infamy, when a ground ball went through his legs at 1st base in Game 6 of the 1986 World Series, allowing the NY Mets to come back and defeat the Boston Red Sox (my hometown team).

It doesn’t seem fair, but nevertheless it can be true. There are cases where one moment can define a person forever.

Let me share another story with you that epitomizes this idea of “יש קונה עולמו בשעה אחת.” When I lived in Boca Raton I had the tremendous zechut of getting to know a holy man named Rabbi Eugene Klein, zt”l. Rabbi Klein was a Holocaust survivor, who lost his wife and 3 children in the Shoah. After the war, he started over in Canada, starting a new family and serving as a pulpit Rabbi for many years. I knew Rabbi Klein in his retirement years, when he still taught Torah and served as a role model for the community. One day, Rabbi Klein shared this incredible story with us that really shows the power of one moment. He was picking up his daughter from school one day and when she came to the car she had tears in her eyes. He asked her what was wrong and she said “daddy, I don’t want you to die!” Rabbi Klein, confused, said “I’m not dying! Why are you worried about this?” And his daughter responded “because in school today we learned that smoking can kill you and you smoke every day!” On the spot, Rabbi Klein took the pack of cigarettes from his pocket, tore it in half, and never touched a cigarette again the rest of his life. He just quit cold turkey, so that his daughter would not have to worry about him. Talk about being קונה עולמו בשעה אחת!

V. Shaot Zmaniyot

So here’s my big question: How does that happen? How does someone make a decision that changes the rest of their life? It’s impressive and inspiring to hear about, but it doesn’t sound like something the average person can achieve.

I’d like to suggest that the secret to success at these turning points in our lives is the secret we learned from the owl: the ability to pivot, to turn, and to rotate.

You see, while we celebrate and appreciate Moments in Judaism, our religion is really not one of Moments, but of Movement. Like the hands of a clock, which are always in motion, we are meant to be revolving, evolving, and growing at all times. And maybe that’s what the word Teshuva really means, to keep going around, to never settle and be complacent.

That’s why an hour in Hebrew is called a SHAAH. The word SHAAH doesn’t really mean hour. It means to turn. For example, at the beginning of the Torah we read about Kayin and Hevel. And the pasuk says (Breishit 4:4-5) that Hashem turned to the offering of Hevel, but not to Kayin’s: 

“וַיִּשַׁע ה’ אֶל הֶבֶל וְאֶל מִנְחָתוֹ...וְאֶל־קַיִן וְאֶל מִנְחָתוֹ לֹא שָׁעָה.

You may have heard of the term Shaot Zmaniyot. Essentially, this means that in Judaism an hour is not always 60 minutes. Instead, we divide the total sunlight hours into 12 equal parts. In the summer, when the days are long, each halachic hour might last 70 minutes. In the winter, when the days are shorter, each hour might be 50 minutes.

What do we learn from this? That at different Zmanim, at different turning points in our lives, we need to SHAAH, to pivot.

A story is told about a great Sage who asked his student a question: “Tell me, what are you watching when you sit on a hillside in the late afternoon watching the sky turn from yellow to orange, then to deep purple, and finally to darkness?” ‘That’s obvious,” said the student. “You are watching the sunset." “No,” said the Sage. “You are wrong. You are not watching the sun set. You are watching the world turn.”

Life is not static. We move. We rotate. We pivot. And this is how we keep the momentum for growth going.

VI. Turning Points

We all go through turning points in our lives. The Sages teach us (Pirkei Avot 4:3) אין לך אדם שאין לו שעה, ואין לך דבר שאין לו מקום, there is no man who doesn’t have his hour, and no thing which doesn’t have a place. This is kind of the Jewish version of “everything has a time and a place.”

These milestones, or tuning points, are not always easy or fun. But they are incredible opportunities for creativity and growth. One of my favorite authors, Bruce Feiler, author of Walking The Bible, has done a lot of research about turning points. In his book Life Is In The Transitions, Feiler describes what he calls Lifequakes. These are major events in our lives that lead to transition. It can be a death or sickness in the family, losing one's job, getting married or divorced, the birth of a child… anything that causes a major change in our lives. Feiler found that we go through three to five Lifequakes in the course of our lives and each transition lasts an average of five years. Some of these lifquakes are personal and others are collective (ex. COVID). Some we choose, and others are involuntary. 

You may be thinking, “Lifequakes! That sounds very hard! You see! This is what I was afraid of when you brought up the word Teshuva!”

Yes, it can be hard. But what is hard is not the transition, or what I like to call the pivot. What is hard is starting to move if you’ve been stuck in the same position for a long time. This is what Chazal mean (Rashi Shemot 19:5) when they say “כל ההתחלות קשות”, all beginnings are hard. But once you loosen the muscles it becomes easy, natural, painless, and instinctive.

What I’m trying to say is that I think the secret to Teshuva is not becoming someone new; it is digging deeper to remind ourselves of who we already are. The light is already shining inside of us. Like the Shabbos lamps that some people have, where the light stays on the whole Shabbat, but you can twist the lid to cover or reveal the light, all we have to do if we want to reveal our inner light is twist the cover, pivot, and rotate.

Think back to a recent turning point in your life. It can be an achievement or even a failure. What did you learn about yourself? How have you grown since then?

Now think about the current Lifequake called COVID which we are all enduring together. In what ways do you see yourself, the world, life in general, differently? If you could pick one small thing to change about your life now that you have been through this what would it be?

Now try to imagine the rest of your life. Do you envision a linear path, where everything is predictable, or do you foresee Shaot Zmaniyot, opportunities for pivoting?

As long as we remember that our light never goes out, and all we have to do is turn the cover on our Shabbos Lamp, we need not fear or avoid those turning points, but instead can grow from them.

VII. Yizkor

We’re about to recite Yizkor and remember loved ones and teachers who are no longer with us. When you think of these people what do you remember? How do you feel? How did they help you grow through your turning points?

Even though we cannot see them or share a cup of coffee, we can still connect to their light. And maybe that’s why we light a yahrzeit candle, to remind ourselves of their light, but also of our own internal light that they could see even when we could not.

VII. Conclusion

It’s Yom HaKippurim, the holiest day of the year. Hashem is right here. And He has given us a gift called Teshuva.

Let’s remember today that, like the owl in my backyard, we can pivot, we can look at things with a fresh lens.

Let’s remember that if we really want to achieve our goals in life we must remember that אין הדבר תלוי אלא בי, it is up to us to make it happen.

Let’s remember that even when it seems too late to make a change, יש קונה עולמו בשעה אחת, it is possible to accomplish something amazing in each and every moment. 

Let’s remember that Judaism cares more about Movement than Moments. And that the challenge is not the transition itself; it is starting to move when you have been stuck for so long.

Let’s remember that the secret to Teshuva is not becoming someone new; it is digging deeper to remind ourselves of who we already are.

Let’s remember that we all go through Lifequakes, but that these turning points are not only challenges to overcome, but also opportunities for growth.

Let’s remember the core values our loved ones taught us and connect back to those pieces of our identity.

Let’s remember that the word SHAAH means to turn or pivot. So this afternoon, during the break, stretch your neck a little, swivel your head, and remind yourself that Teshuva doesn’t mean you have to stop being you. It just means you get to look at your life with a fresh perspective.

Let me conclude with this: my favorite line of the Avinu Malkeinu prayer is “Tehei HaShaah Hazot Shaat Rachamim V’et Ratzon Milfanecha” - May this moment (or maybe we should translate SHAAH as movement) be one of mercy and desire before you. I invite you to join me in singing this Tefilla and asking Hashem to help us stretch those vertebrae so that we can go through our own spiritual pivot this year.

Sing: “Tehei HaShaah Hazot Shaat Rachamim V’et Ratzon Milfanecha”

Wishing us all a Gmar Chatima Tova!!!