Chaim Boruch throws himself back, with feet dangling from the couch pillows and a smile on his face.

I see that this motion is not only a chance for his body to relax and rest, but rather, there is something inside of him that feels good while looking up.

I sit next to him, pondering his thoughts, as I take a moment to digest a lesson in life he just magnified with one of his simple, wonderful moves.

As adults, we tend to get caught up in a fast-paced, forward-moving treadmill. We become so intensely consumed with what lies before us that we forget to look up. How do we stop and connect to the vast heavens above, where we feel the pull of spirituality, connection, strength and the deep wonder of G‑dliness?

With his one quick motion, Chaim Boruch showed me.

He demonstrated how we must throw ourselves back, back into a place of introspection, of simplicity and momentous calm. With a smile, with faith, with a mind and heart facing the heavens.

And this very moment reminds me of a psalm which often guides me throughout the day. It says in Psalm 121: “A song for ascents. I shall raise my eyes to the mountains, from where will my help come?”

And with these words on my lips and with my head tilted back, I look up. I look up to all that surrounds me, that guides me, that keeps me from falling down. And I continue to pray . . .

“My help is from the L‑rd, the Maker of heaven and earth.”

And I continue to throw myself back, back into identifying my past, my roots, my inner drive and vitality, recognizing from where I have come and where I am heading.

Right next to my little boy. Feet still dangling. Smile still glowing.

Still looking up.