Life Lessons

With birth, the die is cast. Existence has been set into motion, and so too it will come to a close. We should not despair. The tragedy doesn’t lie in this end. The tragedy exists only if we fail to live...

You now possess three-quarters of a billion dollars. You make yourself a cup of coffee, and you sit at your kitchen table, thinking about the money. How does it change your plans? How does it change who you are?

I think about this often as I work at my projects. Do you think, if I make an effort to keep the back neat and tidy, snipping away the loose ends, my life will be tidier? Or appear tidier to me? Just a thought...

“You love all your children just as much as you love me . . . so that can’t be possible. But I only have one mommy. And I love no one just as much,” I reasoned...

Only later did I notice that one tiny tree had been planted so close to the playground’s fence that its narrow branches had become entangled in the mesh. Would it ever grow to independent maturity like the other trees?

Sadly, we are influenced by a society that eats not when it’s hungry, but when it’s bored. We are distracted by access, and it’s disheartening, because we are so much more than that...

From the moment I met him, I knew that Tal was someone special. But I could never have imagined how our relationship would shape my life.

Can you imagine how much easier it would be to move forward if we could look at our past and realize that just as we have changed, grown and developed, so too have those that let us down? The person they were may have caused us pain, but the person they are now would not have. If we can view them in the past, then we can leave their failures in the past...

It is through our gained maturity and insight, a precious gift bequeathed by time, that we are able to gaze back at our progression, giving us insight into the future. If we extend this trajectory, bending the rules of physics and the laws that govern “reality” as we know it, a fascinating new world emerges from the dust of exile...

Aging is happening even as I type these words. I am ever so slowly, and sometimes more quickly, evolving into the “older” generation. These words, in print, sicken me. I am sixteen on the inside of my brain, but the rest of my body is screaming otherwise!

He ignored my heartfelt cries, the Psalms that I recited, the prayers and the bargaining. He did it His way, and in the process my heart was shattered . . .

Now that the decks are clearer and the obstacles fewer, do we have the self confidence and courage to move forward and concretize those aspirations? Do we have the guts to zero in on the objectives and work toward their achievement?

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 . . .

To be true to yourself while sitting in your living room is no big feat. That’s what the angels do in heaven, and they get absolutely no credit for that. The trick is to be yourself in someone else’s living room. To remain who you are no matter where you are . . .

Do I look older? Do I look old? I don’t feel old, but I’m actually not sure what old feels like . . .

Chavi and her husband were dumbstruck. They had realized that the unit was positioned outside, over her garden, but it had never occurred to them that it might disturb her . . .

I find myself reflecting on life’s choices, and wondering if I got what I always wanted...

Out of nowhere a well-dressed, kind-looking woman appeared. She smiled and said, “I can lend you the money, and you can pay me back at your convenience . . .”

“One by one, the pawnbroker weighed the items to discern their value. But when he picked up the heart necklace—Momma suddenly let out a shout, ‘No!’”

We are grownups, busy, efficient and productive, with many important lists on our planners. It’s hard for big people to enter that magical space, where time is suspended and birds are chirping...

My decisiveness has been a real blessing. My instincts are pretty great. But my prejudices, narrowmindedness, laziness and fear stand in the way of recognizing new opportunities...

Physical life is transient and temporary. If one can take the material and elevate it—to any degree—is that not a privilege? Surely, this endeavor I speak of is a meaningful way of remembering the spiritual qualities of Ruthie—her goodness, her modesty, her “let’s dress well but our souls must shine too” attitude . . .

I didn’t know what he wanted. Confused, I didn’t answer. In its niche at the back of my mind, the horrible truth wriggled and stretched. People don’t like Jews, my darling...

For most of my life, I never saw crying as an expected, positive, and even necessary part of life—not to mention something one would ever do in front of other people. I always thought crying was, well, shameful. At best, a sign of weakness and deficiency; at worst, a symptom of immaturity and petulance. However, several life experiences have since changed my perspective . . .

I try to get back to that place within in me that still reaches unceasingly for meaning. I can't get back. As I kiss my children good bye by the door, the glare of the morning sun is sharp and unforgiving. I want to climb, to run, to inspire. But the heaviness tugs at me, warning me to pause, to rest, to give up...

There comes a time in a religious woman’s experience when you do things by rote, and everything numbs over.

I remembered the good bye I had given my husband that morning: a garbled jumble of vowels, consonants and the last gulp of my coffee, a flick of my wrist as I picked up the baby, my bag, the garbage and then ran up the steps, leaving the door wide open behind me. Now I wondered, what had happened to the inspiration? Where was it hiding?

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...

Perhaps my initial feeling of embarrassment stemmed from societal pressure. Thanking G-d just wasn’t in the script I’d been handed. But another part of me knew that I had discovered something beautiful. I decided to add the acknowledgement to my conversations. This proved to be problematic...

I would hate to think that one day my children will grow up and feel inferior because they can't do something on their own. I would be devastated if they don't turn to me to ask for advice or assistance because I taught them that they had to be perfect and to do everything by themselves...

Watching an increasing number of my peers and family become ill and suffer in various ways, my sensitivity to and appreciation for all the gorgeous details of life began to grow. I was watching my gratitude for being alive bloom, like sights of a spring morning. I actually began embracing the idea and practice of celebrating...

On a night intended to commemorate our eleventh anniversary, and our treasured connection to each other, we celebrate instead the kindness of strangers, and the delicate and fragile strands of life's web...

I wanted the college degree, nice house, a great spouse, plenty of kids, and wonderful relationships. Who doesn’t? I don’t think it’s wrong to want and strive for all those things, but it also begs the question that when all is said and done, are you truly a winner?

I didn't realize the number of soldiers who died here, nor did I comprehend how young they were. I found myself having trouble breathing a lot of the time...

Of course I wanted to honor my Zaydie and his memory, but I also wanted to honor my son and his choices for his special day. Then I took an even deeper look at the situation. Maybe there was something more sinister. Maybe the real concern was how I would appear with my son wearing such a tallit...

She turned round quickly and her flippers sent a cloud of tiny bubbles towards my mask. When they cleared I saw her signaling frantically: she clutched her throat a few times and then held her hand out towards me. The bubbles that were supposed to be drifting out of her mouth piece were no longer there...

Ironically, the hardest shots to block on WiiFit soccer are the ones that come at you dead center. Indeed, finding my center is the challenge. It's relatively easy to live within any narrowly-defined culture. Yes, it's restraining, but the parameters of making decisions are also easier...

The bus drove by a group of schoolchildren. These children wore jeans, colored sweatshirts, sneakers—they looked like "real kids." My eyes met those of the little boy nearest the bus. I smiled at him, waving. The little boy raised his arm and pointed. "Zydi!" (Jews!)

I berated myself, did a self critique that led to assassination of my character and driving skills and I also bargained with G‑d. However, I never once praised Him or thanked Him for averting disaster...

I took my dreams of planting patches of beauty, of roaming, and of beauty and wrapped them up carefully in crinkly tissue. Then I put them in a place where the light of hope and striving for a dream never reach...

When you drive with a menorah on the top of your car, you are very in-your-face-Jewish. And I soon learned that every single time I got into my van, no matter where I was going or what I was doing, I was going to be watched...

We all have these latches in our lives—different defenses and fears that hold us back from learning how to fly. We're scared of change. We are more comfortable on the ground, but there is a voice inside each of us reminding us we can fly...

It's not the money or the renown that bring contentment. People want to affect others, to influence them, and just to make their lives a little easier...

The drummer was the crippled boy whose wheelchair I had stored. He was putting his soul into his drumming—so deep was his desire to give back...

Instead of hearing a song in the noise around us, we hear a series of clangs and screams and vibrations. Instead of seeing a dance, we see a kick, a turn of the head, and a raised arm. The thing is, a kick is just a kick, and a clang is just a clang. A hand doesn't do much good if there's no arm to extend it...

Whereas I used to groan as I glanced out the window into the semi-darkness, lately I have found a way to make waking up a more joyful experience, even when it happens at 5am.

I've spent quite a few hours recently playing this game. My children love it and I have no doubt why. Everything can change at the very last moment, and that is exactly what is so exciting...

If I could be given any gift to help me in my job as a teacher, I know exactly what I would ask for. I haven't ever seen one, but I know that I need it: a special kind of mirror that I can hold up for my students to gaze into, and instead of seeing themselves as they always do, they would see themselves as I see them...

She is in constant pain from her arthritis. She knows that so many of her dreams are lost--her husband who is gone, the children she wanted but never had. Yet she is happy. Every visit, we are blessed with another little glimpse into a world that is long gone...

The park was empty save for a young woman pushing a child on our favorite swing. I could not see the child as he was blocked by the green plastic bucket seat perfect for older babies. I did, however, see the woman, and my nose crinkled...

Moments later, oxygen masks dropped from the overhead compartment, and the pilot announced that all in-flight personnel must return to their seats and put on their masks. They raced past us shouting "Put your masks on! Now!"

And that is when I lost it. I felt my anger contracting my soul in order to make more room in my body to hold it...

I feel my engagement ring catch on the soft fabric. Right away a cold, clammy feeling of unease settles in my stomach. There should have been a solitaire diamond sparkling there; instead the claws of the ring close over a horrendous gap of nothingness...

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 are the mornings when a good swim changes my whole life...

For my son, there was one teacher who stands out. He was a new teacher, fresh out of rabbinical school and trying his hand at education...

With each long stretch of uninhabited, barren land we passed, interrupted only by an occasional primitive Bedouin village or a lone, wandering donkey or sheep, I was feeling that in every sense of the phrase, I had gone too far...

So here I am, alone this hour, looking at you, Dad. I smile. You smile back. I stroke your hand, running my fingers over your big blue veins, and feel the gift that you are to me- more than ever...

At first I couldn't imagine how I could take in a child at that moment, but I couldn't say no to a Jewish child who needed a home...

Every time the phone rang for the past two weeks, my whole body tensed. But not any more. The call has already come early this morning...

As I realized that all along I have had the wrong definition for accomplishment, the darkness began to fade...

I knew then that even if by some miracle I could talk my way out of not having a Gentile document, I could never explain the latkes and doughnuts in my bundle...

In the comfort of the bus, G‑d sent me my own miracle- and made me realize that everyday brings its own causes for celebration...

Please believe me when I tell you that, to me, your daughter is an angel. She is on my shoulders; she is like a butterfly in my garden. She is the most beautiful person I have never known, and I carry her within me. Every day...

I would always see her behavior as unkind, insensitive and truly narcissistic, and she would even admit to this and say that she can't change. So, round and round we'd go...

Sometimes, all I really want is for the other to recognize that I was wronged. And more often than not, a simple apology will make everything alright...

My greatest fear for years had been to be dependant on someone and not be able to look after myself. My fear became my reality...

He released his wife's hand, tapped my wrist as though to say, look, and pulled back his jacket sleeve just enough to show me that tattooed on his veiny, wrinkled skin were the numbers almost every living Jew recognizes...

He made of each Chasid a "rebbe," made each Chasid feel that responsibility and love for every Jew, made each Jew sense her or his own greatness and holiness.

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 saw something that they didn't see. The pigeon was dying...

As I gaze out into the front yard I notice the new, tiny buds peeking out from the soil below. Why didn't I notice them before? I hear a wisp of a voice within me: This is a wake-up call. Don't go back to sleep...

I bought the paints, the brushes, a book, some canvases, and the table easel, went home and cleared off the dining room table and set everything up. There it sat for about two weeks. I walked by it. I peered at it. I arranged it. I examined it...

I hope that starting this column will be an action that screams, "I will not forget what I did. I will not forget the lessons I learned. And I will not forget the miracle I experienced…"

I have lost someone who loved me. The thought takes my breath away. I watch the dirt fall onto the plain wooden coffin, and I know that my father's body is in that box...

I think there are certain times of the day, certain events you experience, that lead you back to a place in your memory where you realize just how deep, important and penetrating to the soul your experiences have been...

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 tee-shirt...

I'm onto a new perspective. What is life without a few wrinkles? And I need to stop listening to those commercials about washing that gray away...

I am one of those super-responsible Type A personalities, the kind whose first words as a baby were “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.” I have been doing a pretty good job since then, right up until the moment I broke my leg..

I naively believed the builder's claims that the job would be completed in under a fortnight. Two months later, they were still going strong...

Only moments before the lights went out, I had been pondering how I could get everyone out of their hibernation in order to spend a little time together...

Have you ever noticed how easy it is to get upset with your family and how difficult it is to display the same anger for a stranger? How your home looks impeccable when you know that visitors are coming, and if not, it would look like a disaster?

As I sank into the driver’s seat on my commute home, I began my daily personal prayer to G‑d, and opened, rather ungratefully, with my list of grievances about how I had survived yet another stressful day . . .

Postcard upon postcard asking to please send a little sugar, a little butter, some warm socks. It gets cold at night. Frania wants a doll, please don't send a doll. There is no room in the ghetto for a doll...

I knew my election was quite an honor, and that my parents were very proud. I was simply scared. But I didn't tell anyone, of course. That would reveal far too much insecurity...

How would life be if we simply explained its occurrences in a positive way?

Bennie's memorabilia, cherished pieces of his life, remain hidden in a large container, reminders of another time, an era when handshakes sealed a business deal, when families gathered around the table sharing laughter and funny stories, when letters were handwritten...

I tell myself that Marnie loves being a victim, maybe even suffers from some kind of martyr complex. It’s as if she’s trying to reinvent a famous heroine burnt by the stake...

I am always running. I am always moving. There is simply so much to do and so little time to do it. And it is easy to rationalize, to explain, to excuse because I am busy doing good things, positive things, which is why I can never slow down. But as much as you have to do, you have to keep the speed limit...

Every Yom Kippur I thought of Aunt Arlene, but I did nothing. I decided to stay angry...

I've always felt slightly self-conscious as the only family on the block whose father was a Rabbi and made less than $500,000 a year...

You sent the captions, pictures, and mementos with your trust of an album’s completion. And there your pictures sat. For years...

After all, what could he teach a girl who got straight A’s in school and wanted to go to an Ivy League college? And yet, today, what I remember from college seems like a blur of intellectual trivia compared to the simple lessons of my father . . .

Rose felt like a leaf caught between heavy gusts of wind with no anchoring force to answer her question: To keep her job, or keep the Shabbat?

What’s the difference between opting out and giving up? Why do I think it was okay for me to abandon the ski slope at forty-five while I find it terribly sad that my bachelor brother-in-law may, at the same age, decide it’s time to stop searching for a wife?

Her response was habit, given to hundreds of names the same morning. It was meant to give me the go. But instead, it stopped me. Did she just call me "Miriam?"

“Me, too,” I lied. “It’s… indecipherable.” I had seen that word the day before in a copy of Time magazine lying around the house, and decided that it sounded as glamorous as any other.

It's an old voice, but powerful and steady. It is my Zaidy saying the mourner's Kaddish for his father, whose yahrtzeit is Yom Kippur

My grandmother Sima and her brother Meir were young adults at the time of Hitler’s rise to power...

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...

The technician smeared some of the gooey gel and started moving the probe around my stomach. I waited for the usual comments of "Oh, look! There's a hand and there's a leg and there's another hand!" But the technician was silent...

He kept it folded into a square, tight, so it could fit in his wallet. "My princess wrote it," Daddy says as he pulls a customer by the elbow...

Near the park, we were forced to detour via a parallel street. At the next traffic light, the Rebbetzin said to me: "I heard a woman screaming; can you go back and see what that was about?"

Roots are deeply embedded in our family and friends, particularly those who have known us most of our lives. They provide nourishment. They anchor us...

I trusted him with my life, my world, my children and I thanked G‑d for Uncle Hershey all the time...

I tried to outrun my enemy the other day. He had been hidden within the words of a trusted friend, ambushing me when I'd least expected it...

She was so beautiful as she lay there on her back, perfectly still. I cradled her head in my arms as we washed her face. Her skin was smooth and her limbs remarkably flexible . . .

It is very unlike me to sit down and write something like this, and yet, I feel that I have an obligation to do so. I am a quiet person, who lives a quiet life, and until about a year ago there was nothing newsworthy or interesting about myself or my five children...

Our society has become increasingly focused on youth and external beauty. We have forgotten the value of wrinkles earned through life experiences...

Ninety is a long way down the road, twenty-nine years to be exact. No need to even give it a thought. I wasn’t about to fall into the creeping fear that so many of my friends have fallen into...

Ten seconds. That's all it takes to transport us from our safe, comfortable zone to a breathtaking view from another dimension, where lives intersect for one brief moment...

When tragedy finally came, these rules could not protect me, and it forced me to confront the real costs of playing it safe. How much had I missed out on, I wondered, as I traveled the safe route?

“Oh Debby,” she answers in delight, recognition sparking. “Please come in. I didn’t recognize you with these new glasses.” The lie stands between us. We both know she could not remember who I was...

From that moment on David surrendered spiritually- making a deal with G‑d so to speak, "If this is what You want, I accept it, but don't leave me." And He didn't...

My newly acquired teacher looks deeply into my eyes. I intuitively sense that her pain is for loss of loved ones who have fought and died so that we can live here...

I longed to join those hunched figures crying at the wall, because even though I wasn’t exactly sure what to cry about, I knew that I wanted to be part of a longing for something great. I knew that one day I too would cry for the Temple and whatever it represented. It took the journey of a lifetime to learn how to yearn for it . . .

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if someone could help us out? If anyone who could would just help us out. But no one is helping us out. Wait, did I just say no one?

I should go. I didn’t want to go. In all honesty, I was embarrassed to admit it, I was afraid to go. This was an antiquated, angrily disputed place; quite small, really. Though you’d never guess it by the media attention it drew. I pushed it to the back of my mind, but it lingered there, unresolved . . .

I would recall the bare beauty of the tree, and wonder again why G‑d had left the tree upside-down. What could an inverted tree possibly contribute to the world?

What kept me there for almost half a century was the realization that I had a long-lasting impact on children—and later adults—that continued over a lifetime, and, in some cases, from my theological vantage point, even beyond...

I took to heart the idea that I was created intentionally to make a positive difference to my surroundings. I couldn’t be selfish anymore; life was about blasting the world with my mission. And that year’s birthday meant I would have to come up with the biggest, grandest outreach scheme ever . . .

As things seemed to go from bad to worse, I pushed my chair away from the desk and forced myself to take a few breaths. I had to do something, or I knew I was doomed to have my day continue its downspin . . .

In my experience, I have noticed that it is a red flag when people voluntarily start a statement with “I promise,” when no one asked them to. It usually means that whatever follows those words will not come to fruition...