The F Word

I refuse

To let it be heard

That horrid words

That makes the innocent cringe

And the perfect puddle on the floor

No one wants to hear

That four letter word

That instills failure

And fear

Cuz it means

We have done nothing right

But we all have it within us

There is no way to escape

I could choke it

Drown it

Four letters

Four

Insignificant letters

With more power

And more potential

To make a change

We hear it

And we want to be more

We hear it

And we want to be different

If I heard those four letters

That little F word

I would surely change my ways

There is no law

As definite and dynamic

As the F word

Flaw.

Giving Thanks

Since I will be traveling tomorrow and spending thanksgiving with a friend, I wanted to share some of the things I am thankful for... In the spirit of the holiday...

1. Three weeks from today I will finish my first semester of graduate. I am not sure what I was thinking in taking five classes, working part time and volunteering, but I am grateful that I am almost done with what I think will be my hardest semester.

2. In three weeks from today I will meet my new nephew. The little guy lives across the country and is almost a month old, so I am glad I get to see him.

3. I received an email today about my latest volunteer placement which will hopefully positively contribute to my experience as I move forward in my graduate program toward my career.

4. Coffee. Always. Plus, I have a free drink on my Starbucks card which will be awesome when I travel tomorrow.

5. Friends who check in even though I know they are busy.

6. My rabbi who has supported me for almost four years and continues to encourage me and listen to me when I rant, kvetch and yell.

7. Thinkthin bars. My latest obsession. And today I found cookies and cream and espresso flavors!

8. A job that is flexible with my work schedule. A co worker who supplements my paycheck with chocolate. Kids who are utterly hysterical, spotty and adorable all at the same time.

9. Israel. Even though I am 6000 miles away, I am grateful I can always call it home.

10. Even though I don't tell them enough, my parents. Without them, I would not be the person I am today or the person I can become.

Happy Thanksgiving.
Gobble, gobble.

What are you thankful for?

Stages of...

Note: I wrote this a few months ago when said guy had said no, this time for real. Flash forward a few months later, he is now engaged. When I found out, I cried like I never thought possible. While I went through these stages before, I went through them again. All I can say is that if he isn't the one, I am getting closer to finding him...

He said no...

No he didn't. Why would he? He couldn't have! 

Lock the doors. Give me a pint of ice cream. 

I don't want to talk. Don't want to listen.

He said no. But he didn't.

So there.

He said no...

That JERK! That inconsiderate, self-absorbed, selfish, callous JERK!

How could be so rude? Why is he so STUPID?!

Boys are stupid. That's it. They are dumb, unintelligent, cruel JERKS!

And he is the BIGGEST JERK OF ALL!

He said no...

Maybe if I had prayed more... maybe if I had done more good deeds.

Maybe if I had slept less, worked harder...

I'll be better. I'll pray harder. Please...

I just want him...

I'll do whatever it takes...

Take my heart... I don't need it.

He said no....

I don't want to go out.

I'm not gonna bother getting dressed... no one cares anyhow.

No one cares about me.

I mean, honestly, who would?

G-d, life sucks.

He said no...

He said no. He did't accept me.

But I accept my self.

I accept... that things will get better.

I will find someone better.

I will move on.

Mori V'Rabi

At around one in the morning

What should have been a time of peace

Turned into pain and mourning

Blood shed

Terror

I cannot imagine

The horror

This time

It was too close

To me

And while I am 6000 miles away

How can it be

That I would not cry

Or be afraid

My Rebbeim

Mori

My teacher

Rabi

My Rabbis

The ones who guided me through turbulent time

Are you ok (alive)?

Waiting

Waiting

Please answer

I cannot sleep

Until I know you are safe

But even then

Mori V'Rabi

What answer can you give

What comfort can you provided

Our collective soul

Has been stabbed

We are all bleeding

Mori V'Rabi

Give me an anwer

Give me hope

My emuna

Is being stretched thin
I don't want to snap

I want to go home

I want to be close

I want to be safe

Mori V'Rabi

My teacher

Teach me...

Where do we go from here?

A Day Like Today

We never should know of a day like today. But it happened. 

Terrorists entered a shul in Had Nof with only one intention: to kill, to maim and to murder.

http://www.theyeshivaworld.com/news/headlines-breaking-stories/271959/warning-graphic-images-from-jerusalem-terror-attack-in-har-nof-shul-%D7%94-%D7%99%D7%A0%D7%A7%D7%9D-%D7%93%D7%9E%D7%9D.html

http://www.timesofisrael.com/in-jerusalem-terrorists-shatter-silence-of-prayer-with-synagogue-bloodbath/

I cannot help but wonder.... Why?

What answer can I possibly give to this question?

I look at my family, my friends, my brothers and sisters in Eretz Yisroel and I cry. It hurts. My heart has been hurt. My home has been hurt. I cry with every wife who lost her husband. For every child who lost his father.

But the Ribono Shel Olam is watching as His children are being brutally stabbed and attacked and He must be crying. Is this world so awful that he wants his purest Tzadikim to be safe in Shamayim? Tatte, we are waiting for your name and glory to fill this world. For the terror and horror to end. But Tatte, if you take our Rebbeim, if you take our teachers and leaders, how will we know how to bring Moshiach? How will we learn your precious Torah if you take our leaders away?

Tatte... why are we being hurt like this?

There are no answers. There are no words. There is pain. There is hurt. There is unimaginable suffering for our people, for the families who lost a loved one. And there is no way to go back. The Tehorim took three steps forward in their Amidah... three steps to the Ribono Shel Olam, and He felt for whatever reason, they should be with him, body and soul... but why with such brutality...?

http://www.theyeshivaworld.com/news/boruch-dayan-emmes/272088/har-nof-terror-victim-r-avraham-goldberg-hyd.html

http://www.jewishpress.com/news/breaking-news/list-of-murdered-and-wounded-in-har-nof-massacre/2014/11/18/

All I know is I know nothing. But I am part of a people who continue to stand up in the face of such terror. We are still here. They have not won. They never will.

http://365daysofkatzs.wordpress.com/2014/11/18/holdinghands/

Out of the Depths

After spending a year in Israel, I truly discovered where home is. When I went back to visit this past February, despite only being there for a short time, I felt safe, at home and exactly where I belonged. This summer I worked in a camp with a very Religious Zionist perspective. Every day we were reminded about our beloved country. Even more so with the war going on. The atmosphere was permeated with Israel. It stirred up feelings I didn't know I had. I felt myself becoming obsessive with reading the news... trying to find some way to connect to my home, 6,000 miles away and being barraged with rockets and terrorist attacks. You could feel how everyone in the camp was struggling being so far away. We were compelled to do something to show our support, to somehow be connected while being so far away.

Over Shabbos I read "Out of the Depths," the personal memoir of former chief Rabbi Israel Meir Lau. It was impossible to put down (except for when I dozed off for my Shabbos nap.)

Rabbi Lau writes about his journey from Buchenwald to Eretz Yisroel. He documented his travels as an immigrant child who could not read or understand Hebrew to his time in Kol Torah Yeshiva to Chief Rabbi of Netanya and Tel Aviv and finally, Chief Rabbi of Israel. His life was bound up in the establishment of the State of Israel. The struggle of the British rule, the Arab attacks from every side and the need to make the world aware of the horrors of the Holocaust. It is a story that is so raw and real, yet at the same time, so pure. It is a story that in some way we all find ourselves joining with the Chief Rabbi in our collective journey home.

There was one passage in particular that stood out to me:

"At time when Israel finds herself at war, people often ask me how I feel from the perspective of a Holocaust survivor. I usually answer, 'Does have have to be a Holocaust survivor in order to understand the situation?' We are besieged, our lives our threatened, and the danger of our destruction has not yet passed. We Jews are still struggling for survival. All Jews are, in a certain sense, Holocause survivors. But for the survivors of that original holocaust, when the siege is tightened, the issue moves to the forefront, taking on an added significance." (Rabbi Israel Meir Lau, Out of the Depths, pg. 247)

These days, we all feel the siege. Whether by rocket attacks, rampant anti-Semitism or simply reading the news and being an emphatic Jew and realizing our collective struggle. When one Jew is shot, we all take the bullet. We mourn, we cry. But one thing that unites us all is our ability to move forward. The Holocaust was a time in our history where national morale could have wiped us out even more than Hitler could have. But instead, our homeland was born from the ashes. We take our pain, our resilience, and turn into light.

We turn cement blocks that are meant to stop terrorism and turn them into art.

If We Have To Live With Concrete Blocks…

We take pain and turn it into power. 

They bomb us, and we build. 

Build settlements in response to Jerusalem terror: minister

As a people, we are no stranger to tragedy. It something that was embedded into the design of the world. They will hate us no matter what. But instead of allowing that hate to destroy (look at 6000 years of Jewish history!) we continue to grow, to thrive.

For little ol' me, 6000 miles away from home, it is comforting and reassuring to know that I am connected to a nation, to a family, and to a history that will be united into the future.

Am Yisrael Chai.

Letting Go

I had to let go
Before I let in
A terrible sin
From which there is no return
If I ever learn
How to stay far away
Then maybe I can say
It was worth the hurt
Or perhaps
You don't even care
And if so
Then where
Were you and I ever going
I expected a fight
But resistance at night
Is weak
And you were never very strong.

What Are You Looking For?

I have learned to really, truly despise this question.

What are you looking for in a guy?

No one wants the real answer. They want the top three stereotypical descriptive words of a guy who sounds like just about any guy in any yeshiva/office/pit. I mean, let's be real. We all want the same thing. A nice guy, with good values and beliefs who wants to build a nice home.

Do I care what he wears? Do I care if he has a degree? Do I care if he is from in town or out of town?

Maybe.

What am I really looking for?

I want a guy who isn't afraid to be vulnerable. Who isn't afraid to feel something more than surface level superficiality. I want a guy who is constantly looking for meaning in his life. Does he let the small things slip past his eye? Or does he look for a deeper explanation? Does he recognize that G-d is truly a part of his life? Does he learn because that's what he is supposed to do, or because he knows that is actually the very pulse of his existence? Does he care about others? And I don't mean, "hey, how are you?" and then walks away. Does he genuinely take an interest in others? 

Will he appreciate that I recognize G-d through helping children who are fighting illness? Would he say "oh that's so depressing" and totally miss the mission that I want to achieve? Will he understand that yes, a child dying is painful, but that it doesn't have to break me? Will he cry with me? Would he hold me and let me feel the pain I need to feel and then help me to move on?

Will he read my poems? Will he appreciate my creativity? Will he accept my inability to be still and my desire to do more, to be more? Will he learn Nesivos Shalom and Rav Kook with me and accept that my Hashkafos are more confusing than a trip into Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory but nevertheless, I am still going to break through the glass ceiling and become closer to G-d?

The guy I am looking for cannot be summed up in a sentence or two. He cannot be expressed in ten words or less. He is more than just a piece of paper. Maybe that's why I find the traditional system so hard. When you are searching for meaning and reason, you don't think that it can be found in the pages of a book or on a printed sheet of paper. Meaning must be felt. It must be manipulated in your heart and soul. I have a hard time believing that because his paper says this and my paper says that then we must be a match. Get. Real.

Life is so much deeper, so much more vast than that. We as people are so complex, so intricate and real that to expect individuals to sum themselves in a few categories is so wrong.

I get it. It';s the best we have. but let;s be honest: the best we have is a pathetic attempt at building a world that requires so much more effort and honesty if we want to solve the crisis.

Let's rip up the papers. Let's shred them into little pieces. Let's give guys, girls, people searching for their other half, the chance to be real, to be themselves. Let's talk. Let's share. Let's recognize that we are only suffocating our future by living in the past. The system worked for a time. It did. But I know too many good people getting burned by a system that is flawed.

So... what am I looking for in a guy? I am looking for a guy who is looking for me.

I hope we find each other soon. And that everyone else who is searching finds their other half with great haste, great clarity, and great love.

Measuring Strength

I love running. I love the ache in my lungs, the burn in my legs and the feeling of sweat on my face. There is nothing glamorous about running. It's pretty gross to be honest.

After my second half marathon all I could feel was the vast amounts of liquid in my body and covering my clothes. Gatorade on my arms and legs. I had stepped in a puddle. I was sweating like I cannot even explain. Gross.

But that's not what this post is about.

This post is about strength.

When I was training for my half marathon, I frequented my local gym. Aside from the six TVs (which usually just showed depressing news) there was another attraction that made the gym a very entertaining place. I loved watching the guys come in, all tough in their gym clothes, tanks, tees, whatever, and go for the weights. The bench press. The true test of strength and manhood. From the corner of my eye I would watch as they packed on the weight and bent their knees preparing to lift the bar.

They would heave it up. OOH. Let it fall. AHH! And repeat. 

And then drop the bar with a definitive ARGH! The tough guy did two reps. Maybe three if he was feeling confident. Then they would get a drink, pause to watch the baseball replay. And that was it.

Now, I spent several months training. I am pretty sure those guys did not get any stronger or any more muscle. They were not consistent. They were not dedicated. They wanted to glory of saying they benched twice their weight without saying how many times. How impressive.

Physical strength is gained by dedication, consistency, repetition, and a whole lot of killing yourself over and over.

Spiritual strength is the same way. People who take on lofty goals after hearing an inspiring speech usually crash and burn. People who commit to one small thing over a long period of time usually do better. For example, I have committed myself to saying Asher Yatzar every time I use the bathroom. It is something so small you might think what's the point? Well the point is that after spending so much time with individuals who cannot regulate their body functions, rely on a catheter or need someone else to change them, I have learned to appreciate the fact that I can use the bathroom and my body functions the way it should.

But that is something I took on myself.

What about the things that are thrown at me? The challenges that face me constantly. Do I succumb? Do I throw one punch and then admit defeat? Do I stop running, stop moving, because it hurts? I would never get anywhere. But at the same time, should I even bother when I can only take  a step at a time or can only hit the target once out of every hundred times?

I know what my challenges are. I know that I have the strength to over come, but do I have the consistency? Once you can do enough repetitions you are ready for a heavier load. But that means you have to settle for the small successes.

Right now, my spiritual load is, figuratively, at 50, and I am trying to build my strength to get to 60. But 50 is heavy. 50 is hard. 50 is the constant messages I try to ignore, the phone calls I don't pick up and the lingering voices saying Oh, it's not so bad. 

But do I want to stay at 50? Do I want to know that I can get to 60? Or 70? Of course. So I will keep at 50 until I feel my body, my soul, can add more.... til I feel that I can face whatever the next challenge is that is thrown my way.

It hurts. It's hard. But I'll keep at it.

The Things I Wish Someone Told Me

Why You Should Ruin Your Shidduch Chances

I don’t think G-d ever said life doesn’t matter before you are married.  Life matters.  You matter.  And that thing bubbling inside of you called your life’s mission also matters

They talk of emuna. They talk of prayer. They talk of relentless badgering and incessant emails and phone calls. Sometimes they talk of the quiet... lonely... empty times.

They told me I have to behave. They told me I have to start now so I can support later.

Uch.

Well, today someone finally someone told me something that actually matters. He told me that I don't have to hide for fear of "ruining" myself. He told me I can be myself, even if I am just "myself."

Yea, I am young. Yea, I have plenty of time for marriage. But the waiting time sucks. It is a ticking clock that gets louder and slower with every passing second. So I am trying to fill each second with meaning. With magic. I want magic. I believe in magic. And most importantly, I believe in me.