Just a bunch of stones

Well, angelfish, the solution to your problem is simple.  The only way to get what you want is to become a human yourself.


It was 1:53PM Monday afternoon as I stood outside of Pardes dialing the Jewish Agency.  When the call ended 4 minutes later, I felt so distant from this country and the people living here.  All I wanted to do was fly home and get away from it all.  Why?  Let's go back to the beginning.

The bearded old men say I'm not Jewish according to Jewish law.  Okay, fine.  I appreciate Jewish law from an Orthodox perspective and can accept that.  But I didn't just accept it.  I came to believe it.  So the men tell me that I need to go through another conversion process.  It's my understanding that the most widely accepted way is through the Rabbinate.  Wonderful, I can do that.  A not-so-bearded, not-so-old friend tells me that to make things easier, I need to prove my eligibility for making Aliyah.  No big deal.  I just need a couple of documents and everything will be wonderful.  So I get in touch with the Jewish Agency on this beautiful Monday afternoon.  It should have been a simple conversation but, as I came to learn, things are never simple with the Jewish Agency.

It doesn't really matter what was said during the phone call.  What does matter is the fact that I've never felt so distant from this community.  Israel is the country I pray about multiple times a day.  It's the place that every Jew can call home and feel welcomed in.  Yet, because a bunch of bearded old men claim that I'm not Jewish, I'm pushed farther and farther away.  So now I'm stuck.  I've been convinced to believe that I'm not Jewish and now obstacles that seem impossible to overcome are thrown in my pathway.  This isn't the land I've prayed about.  How am I supposed to deal with all of this?

Early Tuesday morning we left for the Pardes tiyul (trip) to the Negev.  It took all of 5 minutes for me to feel connected again.  Here we were surrounded by barren land, free of all politics, bureaucracies, and the bearded old men.  The next three days helped to put everything in perspective- this was the land that I prayed about.  This is the place where Abraham circumcised himself, Isaac was bound to Hashem, and Moses freed the Jewish people.  The barren land we traveled through gave life to the Jewish nation.

Last week's parsha was Vayeitzei.  We learn about Jacob's journey of leaving his home, falling in love with his cousin, jumping through hoops to marry said cousin, ending up with two wives and twelve kids, and eventually gaining the courage to stand up to his father in law.  Aside from the crazy love affairs, I connected deeply to this parsha.  I was reading an article (thank you Chabad) that zoomed in on Bereishit 31:46:

ויאמר יעקב לאחיו לקטו אבנים ויקחו אבנים ויעשו גל ויאכלו שם על הגל

And Jacob said to his brothers (Rashi: his sons) "Gather stones."  And they took stones and made a pile and they ate there on the pile.

Jacob builds a wall (pile) to separate his land from Laban's land.  Neither they, nor their descendants, will be able to cross over these stones for the sake of war.  The word the Torah uses for pile can also mean reveal (לגלות).  There's a Chasidic teaching that says this border can be seen as a separation between the sacred and mundane, yet sometimes it's necessary to cross this border in order to reveal the holiness in an ordinary world.

For me, the cross into the desert felt like exactly that- Jerusalem lost its holiness until I was able to discover what lied beyond its borders.  The גל, the pile, helped me regain a sense of balance to jump back into this fight with the bearded old men.  B'ezrat Hashem, it won't take me 14 years to reach my goal, but I'm back in the game for the long run.

Ready or not, here I come.

TGI (almost) Cheshvan

We dance, we kiss, we schmooze, we carry on, we go home happy.  What do you say?  Come on.

The holiday of Sukkot is sometimes referred to as the Festival of In-gathering.  In the agricultural world, this time period marks the completion of the harvest and the beginning of the planting/rainy season.  Sukkot is also referred to as the season of our rejoicing.  The end of the harvest cycle is a time for celebration but this holiday also starts a mere 4 days after Yom Kippur.  We spent 25 hours afflicting our souls and made it out alive.  What better time than this to celebrate?  

The following line appears in the Torah reading of the 8th day of Sukkot:

שבעת ימים תחג ליהוה אלהיך במקום אשר יבחר יהוה כי יברכך יהוה אלהיך בכל תבואתך ובכל מעשה ידיך והיית אך שמח

Seven days you will celebrate to Hashem, your God, in the place that He will choose, because Hashem, your God, will bless you in all of your produce and in all of the work of your hands and you will only be happy.

The Torah commands that you only experience joy during this festival.  There have been lengthy discussions held by everyone as to how this is possible.  Human emotions are a complicated thing that we generally don't have much control over.  How can we maintain this level of happiness for a whole week?

I've been thinking about this for awhile.  This commandment reminds me of the big red button that says, in all caps, "do not push."  The second you see this button, the only thing you want to do is push it and see what happens.  It's human nature- when you're told to do one thing, you're inclined to do the opposite.  So why would God command us to feel a certain way?

Sukkot is a time for us to get back in touch with the basics.  We live in temporary booths for the week where we do all of our sleeping, eating, and "hanging out."  It's so easy for us to connect with the natural world and feel God's presence.  The Torah was quite brilliant to declare such a holiday happen right after Yom Kippur and the Days of Awe.  We've been given a clean slate and can now start over.  Like infants, we begin from nothing.  The commandment to be happy (in my personal, non-rabbinic opinion) has a deeper meaning.  Sadness/anger may start to develop as it's generally impossible to escape.  Instead of wallowing in these emotions (like we normally do) we should take this time to let the negative feelings pass and actively concentrate on the happier times.  By sitting in the Sukkah, we realize just how tiny our lives can be and how huge Hashem's presence is.  Like the infant that relies on its parents for everything, so too do we rely on God's kindness and giving nature.

This became quite apparent during Simchat Torah.  It's no secret that this is one of my favorite holidays.  My calves are still fairly mad at me and like to send constant reminders of their anger every time I go up and down the stairs.  In any case, things felt different this year.  I've dedicated 10 months to studying Torah- the same Torah I was holding during the Hakafot.  There was a moment when I blocked out the singing and dancing around me and thought about what it was that I was holding.  Hashem gave this to me to learn from and to develop into an "adult" from the "infant" that I am.  It connects the Jewish people, not just to each other, but to the world around us.  I could feel my heart glowing.  Or maybe that was just my locked up neshama trying to get out.  Ha...


It was great to finally get things back to "normal"- full of Kabbalat Shabbat and the whole shebang.  I was invited to Shabbos dinner by one of the families from Yedidya.  The night was incredible.  There was another couple there (math and science geeks!) with their newborn daughter.  Dinner conversation was full of exhilirating topics and deep questions.  After everyone else left, we ended up standing in the kitchen until midnight talking the night away.  I felt such a sense of being home.  They're truly an incredible family.

I'm happy to see the month of Tishrei come to an end.  The chaggim were beyond amazing, but I'm incredibly excited to jump into the meat and potatoes of my classes.  This month was such a whirlwind of emotions but now it's time to settle down and jump into Torah all day erryday.

Playing a game of nighttime daytime...

This is no ordinary lamp.  It once changed the course of a young man's life.  A young man, who, like this lamp, was more than what he seemed.  A diamond in the rough.


Yom Kippur did not bring about the fast that I had expected.  During my Friday afternoon prep, I made sure to pack a bag of tissues to prevent the snot-tastrophe of Rosh Hashanna.  As it turns out, I didn't need any of them.  Davening proved to be extremely frustrating until we hit Mincha.  But let's back track first.  My story (in a super small nutshell) goes as follows:

During my various experiences at school, I made the decision to be Shomer Shabbat.  I started asking a million questions and took on every learning experience that I could get my hands on.  At some point, I was informed that I wasn't Halachically Jewish.  Now this came as a huge slap in the face.  I was raised Jewish.  I believed in this stuff.  How could anyone look at me and tell me that it was all an illusion?  In the months following that conversation, I felt completely disconnected from the Jewish world.  The anxiety would build up just walking past Chabad on the way to campus.  Being the Director of Shabbat Experience became a nearly impossible task.  Praying was absolutely out of the question.  There's no way that the God I believed in could possibly allow someone to take my identity away from me.  I was hurt and angry and felt nothing but betrayal.  My faith was shot for awhile.  It took some time to get things back on track but my relationship with God hadn't fully repaired itself.  There was still a lot of anger and confusion present but I tried to look at it as any relationship.  You get angry at your lover and then kiss and make up.  It's all part of the game.  All I could do was continue praying in hopes that things would smooth out.  Then I hopped on a plane to dedicate a year to understanding the ways of the community that I so deeply wanted to be a part of.

Maybe it's the fact that I'm in Jerusalem.  Maybe it's a result of the few classes we've had at Pardes.  Maybe it's a matter of the people I've been meeting or the conversations I've been able to engage in.  Whatever it was, I had such a sense of clarity by the time Yom Kippur was over.  It seemed (at first) that my prayers were completely empty.  All I could feel was a grumbly stomach and the beginnings of a massive headache.  My heart seemed to be hiding.  For someone who almost always connected to prayer on a deeper level, this was beyond frustrating.  Why wasn't I connecting?  It finally hit me at Mincha- I didn't feel the usual turmoil because, for once, I was completely at peace.  The time period during the Days of Awe was such an intense journey.  I was forced to examine my life from so many different perspectives that I finally had a complete picture.  It became so clear that God had never betrayed me.  The anger and frustration had left.  I was completely at ease for the first time in months.

This, hands down, was the most meaningful Yom Kippur I've yet to experience.  It wasn't just about my journey but about the day as a whole.  To sum it up, here's a video:

The entire 25-hour period was full of contrast.  We sat through Kol Nidrei Friday night and then left shul to see every single Israeli out in the streets.  It was like happy hour without the drinks.  And the bikes?  Kids everywhere on bikes!  You thought you were finally safe from crazy Israeli drivers but their 4-year-olds on bicycles are just as bad.  Then there's the actual content during the service.  We go from singing upbeat praises about Hashem to standing hunched over, humbly acknowledging all of our sins.  During the Temple Service, we find ourselves on the floor as an expression of total submission to God.  It ends in a celebration that the Cohen Gadol was able to atone for all of our sins and actually made it out alive.  People were singing and clapping and parading around shul.  Who knew such things could take place on Yom Kippur.

The final blast of the shofar opened the tear gates (signature move...it had to happen).  This piercing sound marked the end of the intense 10 day journey we had just traveled along.  The past 25 hours alone were a complete roller coaster.  I had done everything I possibly could to find favor in Hashem's eyes.  The reality of everything started to set in and I was left to feel nothing but awe.


I feel confident moving forward and can finally say that I'm excited to see what comes next.  Only time will tell what this year will bring.

Like sheep, we flock.

We all go a little mad sometimes.  Haven't you?



You remember Cobble's Knot from Maniac Magee?  The large ball of knotted string that Cobble would award a year's worth of pizza to anyone who could untie it?  That's what the inside of my mind feels like.  Something tells me this post won't do it justice, but here goes nothing...


I made the decision to daven at Yedidya for the Holidays.  It's a Modern Orthodox shul located about 2 minutes from Pardes.  They don't have a Rabbi but they sure do have a strong sense of community.  I went to check them out last Shabbos to make sure I'd be comfortable there.  Shacharit started at 8:30 and I got there around 8:25...only to find that they were in the middle of the repetition of the Musaf Amida.  Something wasn't right.  A woman came over and informed me that I had stumbled into the early morning minyan and that I really wanted to be upstairs.  We started talking and I asked about Rosh Hashanna seating.  The conversation resulted in an invite to 2nd day lunch (score!).

In my Self, Soul, and Text class, we analyzed sources that discussed that the best time to pray is when you're in a state of semi-consciousness.  When you're half asleep, you don't have the ability to logically think and therefore can put your complete heart into your prayers.  I didn't need these source sheets to understand the truth behind this idea.  Due to some miscommunications, I made the decision to go to 5:40 Shacharit every morning.  I soon discovered that 5AM is such a beautiful time to be awake.  In our Mishna class, we've been discussing what the latest time is to say the nighttime Shema.  According to Rabbi Gamliel, you can say it until the column of light starts to come up (aka: dawn).  It was comforting to know that if a bunch of rabbi's sons wandered into our apartment after a night in the "drinking house" and hadn't yet said their nighttime Shema, it wouldn't have been too late.  But I digress.  I made the short trip to shul in the crisp, chilly air and joined the other morning birds.

Davening this year was an experience and a half.  I was filled with such a wide range of emotions.  This was the first time that I was ever away from my home shul and my family for the Holidays.  I went from knowing everyone to being the visiting stranger in the back of the shul.  If I was going to be welcomed back, there was no opportunity to hide the shoes of the Cohanim.  This was the first time I've ever been homesick.  On the other hand, I was able to really focus on the service and the prayers coming out of my mouth.  I was able to reflect on the previous year- the ups and downs and all arounds.  I thought about my roller coaster relationship with Hashem.  I thought about my raging emotions towards Judaism ranging from complete anger and confusion to absolute awe and amazement.  Will God judge me harshly or was this all part of the plan?  They say that on Rosh Hashana, every human is like a sheep being inspected by God, one by one.  Imagining myself as a sheep being inspected to the fullest extent was such a nerve wracking experience.

I did, however, find a lot of comfort in the shul's technical problems.  There was an electrical fire in the middle of the second night.  Fortunately, there was no serious damage but the shul was without electricity until after chag.  This meant no lights or air conditioning.  We davened the beginning of Shacharit outside along with the birds waking up with the sunrise.  And, of course, with the obnoxious cats running around our feet.  One of the women made a sarcastic comment about the shul and all of its problems.  If only she had realized that everyone at home was sitting there with their snorkels and umbrellas praying to stay dry...

All in all, it was a pretty intense couple of days.  I still don't think I've fully recovered but there will be time for that on another day.

Things I've learned recently:
1.  Just because the "column of light" has appeared doesn't mean there will be enough light in the apartment to get ready.  We should have set the timer a little later so the lights would still be on at 5:40AM.
2.  Always know where the blech is and be sure to plug it in before chag.  Just because you don't mind eating cold dino nuggets and pizza doesn't mean you should be forced into doing so.
3.  Bring an ample supply of tissues to shul.  It's pretty terrible getting on the floor for Aleinu and discovering just how much snot can come out of the human body.
4.  Stumbling into wrong places will lead to delicious meals with strangers.
5.  Delicious meals with strangers will lead to familiar conversations about the pros and cons of shul and what changes can and should be made.

Something tells me it's going to be a beautiful year.

שנה טובה ומתוקה וגמר חתימה טובה

כל ההתחלות קשות

Of course, I'm just a cricket singing my way from hearth to hearth.  But let me tell you what made me change my mind.


The month of Elul is the last month of the Jewish civil calendar.  It leads us into the High Holidays and prepares us for the Days of Repentance.  When done properly, this time period can be extremely intense.  People will begin the process of asking for forgiveness by reaching out to others that they've hurt during the past year.  God will not be able to forgive us for our wrongdoings to other people until those individuals forgive us first- which is not as easy as it may seem.  My favorite custom of this time period is the blowing of the shofar.  The shofar is blown every day (except for Shabbat) from the 2nd of Elul until the 28th.  Some say that this piercing sound will arouse our souls as we prepare for the Days of Awe.  It will inspire us to jump out of our normal routine and prepare us for the Holy Days to follow.

This morning was our first official day of school (and yes, we have a roommate "first day of school" picture).  Orientation took place in the morning and the afternoon was spent in meetings with our Chumash/Talmud teachers.  It seems like everyone is wonderful and this is going to be a great year.  But what was the most memorable part of the day?  Hearing the shofar blown.  I stood there, with my eyes closed, listening to this piercing sound.  Something erupted within my heart.  It was like a fire had been ignited and the light began to spread throughout my whole body.  I felt it deep within my bones, slowly spreading to the surface of my skin.  By the time it was over, I was covered in goosebumps.  Never in my life has a single sound created such an emotional and physical response from me.  I honestly feel so blessed to be in this place in my life where such things can be felt.

In such a black and white world, I've never seen so many colors before.

שמע קולנו

You know, I have the strangest feeling that I've seen that ship before.  A long time ago, when I was very young.


I was telling Sarah the other day that I was quite nervous about this trip.  Simply for the reason that when I was on Birthright, I was moved to tears every single day and crying for a solid period of 10 months was just not going to fly.  I didn't feel as moved this time and attributed it to the fact that I felt home this time around.  As a friend put it, "Yeah, you are home, it takes a few days. But you are there... Well, this place is yours. Your own it."  Turns out, I was just in shock and extremely overwhelmed.  Once I started processing, it was clear that moments of true inspiration are found absolutely everywhere.

The sixteenth b'racha of the Amida is a plea to Hashem that all of our prayers are heard.  Our sages have suggested that this prayer (or some variation of it) was cried out by the Israelites while in Egypt.  It's also a time within the Amida to recite any individual prayers.  Personally, I use it as a time to talk to Hashem, one on one, and let Him know what I'm feeling or what I think I need help with.  The past year has been quite difficult in terms of my Judaism and I've always used this part of davening to try and restrengthen my faith.  I didn't realize just how powerful those few lines could be until I was standing at the Kotel feeling His presence.  Moments before, I could feel the heat of the sun baking down on my skin and the dehydration messing with my insides.  Yet at that instant, the only thing I could feel was complete and utter awe while in a state of gratitude.  After every struggle and battle, I was finally here- ready to take on the next wave of conflicts.

Thursday was quite the eventful day.  Before actually finding the Kotel, I was quite lost wandering around the Old City.  I accidentally stumbled across the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and decided to go in.  To be completely honest, I had no idea what this place was or what it meant to the people who visited the site.  However, you don't need to know the significance of this place in order to appreciate the devotion that other people have for their respective religions.  I stood there completely mesmerized watching everyone who passed by.  Regardless of the extreme heat, I had such intense goose bumps.

I finally decided it was time to leave and continued wandering around looking for a sign to point me in the right direction.  That's when I met Eul.  Eul was born to a Jewish mother and Muslim father.  He's fluent in Hebrew, Arabic, and English, and works in a scarf store.  Eul was willing to sell me a beautiful green scarf at a wonderful discount because he really liked me and could see us being friends.  he was upset when I declined his offer to stay for tea/coffee and made it clear that he was not interested in my body whatsoever but truly liked the person that I am.  He asked for my number and wanted me to promise him that I would hang out with him.  After much negotiating, we agreed that I would take his number and then pinky promised that I would think about calling him.  He then gave me directions to the Kotel and I was out of there.

Needless to say, his number has been deleted.

Thursday ended in an attempt to make my way to Tel Aviv.  That adventure turned into a bus going the wrong way (or did I get on the wrong bus?), a trip to Charedi town, my extreme awareness of my elbows, and a dead phone.  Moral of the story:  If a creepy guy tries to sell you a discounted scarf, take it as a sign that you'll need to dress extremely modestly in the near future.

Shabbos was beyond incredible.  I finally was able to start meeting other Pardesniks.  It's amazing to see all of these different types of practicing Jews coming together as one.  I've always been semi self conscious about my practices and didn't really know how to feel about "exposing" myself to a new crowd.  This group, without a doubt, has brought about some of the best feelings I've felt in a long time.  There's no need to hide any part of my story because everyone here has such an open heart and ability to listen.

I've studied the story of Abraham welcoming guests SO many times when I had to play the part of Abraham and invite "strangers" to unfamiliar territory (thank you Binghamton Hillel).  This passage takes on a completely different meaning the second I find myself as the stranger looking to "Abraham" for guidance.  It really does mean a world of a difference.

בוקר טוב מירושלים!

Promise me you'll always remember:  You're braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.


I'm finally here and boy does it feel great.  My travel buddy to Copenhagen made for an enjoyable experience.  Tim is from Charleston and was flying to Denmark for week-long meetings for his work with a pharmaceutical company.  He's married with two kids and has excellent tastes in food, commercials, and sarcasm.  We got along splendidly.  Pre-takeoff, I commented about my anxiety of flying.  He mentioned later that he didn't buy it.  For some reason the response "I'm so drugged right now.  Life is great." was not the one he had expected.  Before we went our separate ways, he made sure to let me know that I was an excellent flying buddy.  Ha.

The Copenhagen airport was nice and cozy.  There were bars and liquor stores everywhere you looked- who wouldn't feel at home?  I half considered stopping in at one until I realized it was 7AM local time and nothing was really open at that point.  Apparently they didn't get the message that it was 5o'clock somewhere...or 1AM from where I came from.  I made it to my gate and grabbed a seat.  An older man started talking to me about Binghamton.  He used to work in the area and then asked if the snailing team was about watching snails swim down the Susquehanna.  Yes, sir....of course that's what that means.

After 5 long hours of struggling to be awake, we finally boarded the flight to Tel Aviv.  Unfortunately, this flying buddy was not as pleasant.  He asked about what my plans were in Israel and then made sure to tell me his thoughts about everything.  Monotheism creates wars.  There's only one god, but we should believe in lots of "sub-gods."  He considers himself to be Orthodox.  When he asked me if driving on Shabbos is allowed in Conservative Judaism, he cut me off and said "Not what people think- what does Hashem say?"  The rest was a bunch of mumbling nonsense.  I don't think he realized that I hadn't slept in about 24 hours and had already popped more drugs.  I finally told him I didn't fly well and proceeded to fall asleep until we were about to land.

Leaving the airport was quick and easy.  I hopped into the sherut to Jersualem along with 9 other people and we were off.  Finally made it to the apartment around 9PM where Sarah was all ready for me.  This place is absolutely beautiful.  I woke up around 6:30 and made a beeline to the roof.  Davening has never felt so incredible before.  The rest of the morning has been spent walking in circles around the apartment and sitting in every chair to see how it feels.  I feel like Sheldon trying to find "my spot."

We're heading out to the shuk today to find food and all other wonderful things.  But for now, I shall sit on our balcony creeping on all of the neighbors.

#rooftopshacharis

The final countdown

All our dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them.


The time has come, the walrus said, to begin this incredible adventure.  That's not quite what the walrus said but that's not important.  People have been asking for months how I feel about this trip.  I sit here now wondering what it is that I feel.  If I had to describe it, I feel the complete opposite of being numb.  It's like every emotion is raging inside my body.  I'm ready to explode.

The follow up question to how I'm feeling is always "what are you most excited about?"  I've thought long and hard about this.  The thought of spending a year in the Holy Land, being so close to Hashem, is incredible.  The idea of being surrounded by a strong Jewish community 24/7 is mind blowing.  Knowing that I'll be spending my days learning without too many other commitments is also great.  But what am I most excited about?  I'll have a period of 10 months where I can focus on me and my story.  I'll have time to define my Judaism without worrying about anyone else.  I won't have to be defensive about my practices because we're all going to be on similar pages- we're all there to learn and discover.  10 months devoted to being a sponge.  You can't beat that.


In less than 24 hours, I'll be getting onto that plane...along with my 30 pills of Xanax.

And so it begins

The path to your destiny lies within the magic of your heart.


The first day I became aware of my "Jewish journey" was August 14th, 2010.  It was a hot and humid Shabbos afternoon down in St. Louis.  I, along with four of my peers, had just spent the week training to become Peer Network Engagement Interns at Hillel.  We sat in on lectures and participated in discussions that provided us with the tools we needed to return to campus and help other students along their journeys.  But this afternoon was set aside for us.  It was time to hear each other's stories and, in doing so, hear our own.

Nearly three years later, I sit here ready to embark on the next big adventure.  To be completely honest, I've never been more scared in my life.  I look at all of the changes I've made since that sunny Missouri day (keeping Shabbat, reconsidering the egalitarian lifestyle, etc...) and can only wonder what will happen in the next 10 months.  It's no secret that I'm on the fast track to observant Judaism; but am I making the right decisions?  I ask myself that on a daily basis.  Is this the path to my destiny?  The world may never know.

The original inspiration for this blog was to be used as a way to keep my parents involved in every step I take.  Phone calls can only last so long and journal entries aren't advanced enough to ask you questions that you had already answered along the way.  Not that parents do that or anything...

In any case, I hope to use this as a place to document what lies ahead.  As Mr. Lightyear likes to say, to infinity and beyond!