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Sarah Zadok

Sarah Zadok is a childbirth educator, doula, freelance writer and regular contributor to TheJewishWoman.org. .She lives in the Golan Heights, Israel with her husband and five children.

Stories 1-10 of 11 Sarah Zadok  RSS Feed   showing stories | show all
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I never imagined that such a reductive view of my life’s stuff could so aptly tell the story of us, but in many ways it does . . .
Flatter Me  Reflecting on the Good Within Us and Each Other  Story
We were given two eyes for two very different purposes; our left eye, to look at ourselves critically, and our right to look at others with kindness...
Whatever mood I find myself in, there is one aspect of this ritual that remains consistent: There is always a glaring life lesson reflected back to me from those crisp, cool waters. When I am receptive enough to allow that lesson to penetrate, then those ...
Speechless  Lessons From My Forced Voice Rest  Story
iFve weeks later—weeks of slow progress—my drill sergeant, eh hem, my speech therapist upped the ante and put me on a solid month of vocal rest, in an effort to reverse the damage I have inflicted on my pipes...
The Snake Process  Overcoming Our Fears  Story
With the exception of semi-frequent snake nightmares, I've lived with this fear fairly uneventfully. That is until last week...
Graduating  Shifting Focus from “Cool” to “Holy”  Story
I was trying to fit in, be "cool," and at the time, my profoundly limited vision did not allow Judaism and "cool" to occupy the same sentence (unless the word "not" was involved). So, the novice soul searcher in me sought the teachings of sages and ...
That night the girls pleaded to sleep on the couch-bed in the living room in order to stand vigil lest an eagle swoop down from the sky and try to eat the poor pigeon. They would protect her. So, I felt I had no choice but to allow the stakeout. Plus, I ...
I've been a committed student of a Middle Eastern Dance class that meets every Wednesday night, and even though my mind was begging to differ, I knew my body would thank me later. But all I could see was a postpartum pooch shimmying in a baggy ...
The stress of the morning reached its crescendo, and I proceeded to lay down my royal flush of emotional cards in my epic battle to win the "blame game" with my husband...
The lives of our mothers before us don’t just serve as a reference point, but more specifically, they serve as blueprints. When we live with the values that defined them, we allow them to continue to live through us...

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