Category Archives: growth

Some Postings Need No Title

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“I write not because I have the strength to write, but because I do not have the strength to remain silent.”
-Rav Avraham Yitzchok Kook zt’l

I came across the quote last night. I had copied it from somewhere and scribbled it in a journal way back in 1994. I wasn’t planning on posting, but I decided that consistency is a good thing, even if it means writing when I don’t feel like it.
It’s been a long week. Primarily due to the matzav in Eretz Yisrael. I’m worried, just like everyone else. Then, there’s the shadow of the Three Weeks hanging over Klal Yisrael. Finally it’s been a long week for for me blog-wise. I read over all of my postings and I feel that I probably take myself too seriously. That was not my intent. There is a more casual side to me.
Ever see the Beatles’ movie HELP? It’s great. The best part is the blurb on the back of the box about the flick. It states that the Beatles made the movie at a period of their life when they didn’t take themselves too seriously. While I enjoying posting about Rav Yisrael’s 13 Midos, it’s taken a toll on me. It’s like Elul in July.
I’ve been thinking a lot about the whole Ir Miklat-unintentional murder deal that we’ll hear in shul this Shabbos. Like most people, I try to relate the parshios to my life. As I’ve gotten older I think some of my core-personality has gotten misplaced. Maybe I’ve unintentionally “killed” my fun-loving-humorous-go-with-the-flow self, and I’ve been exiled to an Ir Miklat of my own design. I hope that’s not the case.
If I killed someone by accident, and retreated to an Ir Miklat, I’d never sleep. How could I when I know that my freedom would be dependant on the death of one person… the Kohen Gadol? Who would sleep?

“When a man learns that just as he broods over himself so does G-d yearn for him, he is at the beginning of a higher level of consciousness” (Rabbi Steinsaltz). This quote appears at the end of an article written by Rav Moshe Weinberger. You can read the entire article here. It’s well worth it.

Good Shabbos

Am I Less Deviant Now That I’m Older?

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My wife and I had the pleasure of spending an amazing Shabbos with a very close friend of mine (and his brother) from my shanna bet year in Eretz Yisroel and college days. Shabbos afternoon my friend asked me a pretty simple question:
Am I less deviant (read punk, individualistic, free-thinking, non-iconoclast, etc) than I use to be? Good question. Although, I would have expected nothing less from him.

I have often wondered the same question myself. From the time I was in high school and became frum until now, how much have I changed? In terms of how I look, its a radical change. It’s rather easy to externally blend into a frum lifestyle. I pretty much look like most people on any given weekday or Shabbos. Years ago, I stopped trying to show my individuality by what I wore on the outside. If you met me, you’d think I’m a pretty normal guy. That’s because I am.His question did get me thinking, though. Have I changed or mellowed out over the years? Probably a bit of both. The conversation with my friend reminded me of two great quotes. Both of them are from an interview with Sonic Youth in SPIN magazine that I read back in September of 1992.

“If you’re not growing, then you’re not living.”
“At times, the most conservative people or ideas are really quite radical.”

We are defined by our thoughts, speech, and actions. I’m told that the Baal HaTanya wrote about this quite a lot. We should not be stagnate. Just as we are inclined to attach ourselves to Hashem through Mitzvah observance, our natural inclination is to grow. I believe the above quotes are a more modern day versions of this:
There is no blade of grass below that does not have a malach on high that smites it and says to it: Grow! (Bereishis Rabbah 10:6-7)
Something as seemingly simple like grass has an urge to grow. Something so basic, knows that there is more to life if you reach upward.

I gave this entry a lot of thought over the past few days. I think that there us much more room for individuality when you set parameters for measurable behavior. If one “marches to their own beat” then you don’t have any way to judge just how different you are than anyone else.

As I was writing this, I thought about Parshas Korach. I must admit, I really wasn’t thinking, but remembering Rav Soloveitchik’s view of Korach, as found in REFLECTIONS OF THE RAV . The Rav states that “Korach was committed to the doctrine of religious subjectivism, which regards one’s personal feelings as primary in the religious experience. The value of the mitzvah is to be found not in its performance, but in its subjective impact upon the person.” This was how Korach thought. Rav Soloveitchik felt that “there are two levels in religious observance, the objective outer mitzvah and the subjective inner experience that accompanies it. Both the deed and the feeling constitute the total religious experience; the former without the latter is an incomplete act, an imperfect gesture. The objective act of performing the mitzvah is our starting point. The mitzvah does not depend on the emotion; rather, it induces the emotion. One’s religious inspiration and fervor are generated and guided by the mitzvah, not the reverse.”

A few months ago felt compelled to actually submit something to bangitout.com in reference to a list I had seen a while back. I received the following response to my submission:This message was created automatically by mail delivery software.
A message that you sent could not be delivered to one or more of its
recipients. This is a permanent error. The following address(es) failed:mailbox is full: retry timeout exceeded

Not good news for the Jews. I was pretty bummed. So I sent the email again. Same response.
In an attempt to answer the question that became the title of this posting, I submit the following:

My additions to “Top 10 ways you know you are a JEWISH HIPSTER”:
Your Itunes Library includes: Shlomo Carlebach, Shalsheles, Husker Du, C Lanzbom, Chaim Dovid, The Yitzhak Halevi Band, Rabbis Akiva Tatz and Moshe Weinberger, Bad Religion, and the Yeshiva Boys Choir
You turn “I Wanna Be Sedated” into a niggun
You quote the Kuzari and Kerouac in the same breath
You cancel your Rolling Stone subscription and start getting the JEWISH PRESS
Your cell phone ringer is a version of “Ki Va Moed” with killer electric guitar
On Sunday afternoons you Skateboard to Mincha, because the shul parking lot is good for shreddin’
Your wife’s mini-van’s radio is preset to both news-radio and the local alternative station
Your Shabbos Hat Box is covered with band stickers
When you hear the term “hardcore” you think of Black Flag and Novorodock
Your kids share your love of all things Piamenta

If you’re reading this (and you know who you are, because you went by a different name when you were younger) thanks. It was great seeing you again.

A Matter of Perspective

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Menuchas HaNefesh, Yishuv HaDaas, Reframing… it really doesn’t matter what title we use… the bottom line is that at times we need to put thing into perspective.
I learned this lesson when I was in 6th grade. Not in school or on the playground, but from “Return of the Jedi”. Straight from George Lucas’ script…
“BEN: Luke, you’re going to find that many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view.”

Later I learned that Rashi said it first in Parsha Shelach about the Meraglim viewing themselves as grasshoppers. Most recently on Father’s Day I forgot all that I learned from the above.

My wife planned the perfect father’s day for me. I got a photo cube to put on my desk at work (retro, but cool), a great breakfast, a trip with my family and brother (who was visiting us from NYC) to both a nature museum and a zoo, met up with some close friends who were in town, and then home for some pizza. I was aware the entire day that my family loves and appreciates me. I felt blessed that I didn’t work on Sundays. I was happy to be living somewhere with an excellent quality of life for myself and my family.
As we walked into our home, I noticed something that bothered me. I let it bother me too much, and my fantasitc day was totally wiped from my personal hard-drive. All the fun and good times were out the door.

How often do we get caught up on things that really don’t matter? I know for myself, even once, is one time too many. Someone doesn’t say hello to you in shul, you can’t find your car keys, a toy is left on the floor, the bakery sold the last chocolate cream pie, or you get a stain on your shirt while drinking something that’s not on your diet to begin with. Of couse, none of this is from personal experience. 🙂

I remember hearing in yeshiva, and then reading years later in the Rav Dessler biography about Rav Eliyahu Lopian. The story goes that he was once in Yerushayim waiting for a bus. As he sat with a sefer, he stopped learning for a second and looked up to see if the bus was coming. He told the bachur sitting with him that had he still been in Kelm, he would have gotten an hour long mussar shmooze. Why? Because looking to see if a bus is coming doesn’t make it come any faster! To get distracted from learning to look for a bus? What’s the point? You are in control of yourself, not in control of the bus.

Of course, I only remembered this story two days after Father’s Day. I was biking tonight, trying to clear my head and gather my thoughts. I was hoping, somehow, to gain a better perspective on things. Not the big things like family, work, tuition, summer camp, bills, shopping for Shabbos, or even what to wear tomorrow. I’m working on trying to gain a better perspective on the little things that shouldn’t bother me, but do. Zeh Lo Chashuv, right? What’s one thing that bothers you (that’s really not so important)?

I looked at my wife tonight, and thought, “Father’s Day, hah. What a joke. The real star is her. She puts up with me, deals with the kids, and navigates each of life’s ordeals with a calmness not seen by many.” I wish I could be more like her.

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The Mussar from a Haircut
Wecome to my first entry.
I got my pre-Pesach haircut yesterday. As a newcomer to Chicago, someone recommended a gentleman in my neighborhood, West Rogers Park. I walked in, sat down, and we started talking. He told me he gives haircuts to alot of orthodox people. In fact, he’s cut hair for 3 years olds, post-upsherin, (inlcuding kids that belong to some of my closest friends. Well, after the cut was finished, he held up the mirror, so I could take a look at the final product. “Now you look like a mentch. Of course, it’s not hard to look like a mentch, is it?” he said.

I was stunned. You know, he’s right. He’s never learned in cheder or opened a copy of Mesilas Yesharim. In fact, my new barber isn’t Jewish. This man who sees frum Jews 5 days a week for a living touched on a cornerstone of my Hashkafa. Acting like a Mentch is just as, if not more, important than looking like a Mentch. Klal Yisroel seems to have forgotten this. Just look at what happened last week in Boro Park. Or look at the person in the grocery store fighting with some for as space in line (especially before Pesach). What happened to being a Mentch Yisroel (for the Rav Hirsh fans reading this)?

My conversation at the barbershop sent me back in time almost 16 years ago. I was at YU and it was right after Lag B’Omer. Like everyone else it was time for haircut. I walked a few blocks and found a place that seemed off the beaten path. I had been sitting in the barber’s chair for about 2 minutes when in came Rabbi Dovid Lifshitz, Z”TL, the Suvalker Rav, and his shamash.
Reb Dovid, as he was known, sat next to me, and I froze. I had seen him around YU, heard about him, but never had any contact with someone of his caliber. “Nice day for a haircut”, he said. He then proceeded to ask me my name, where I was from, what brought me to YU, etc. He was interested in who I was. He didn’t mention anything about himself, except introducing himself to me as one of the teachers at YU.

Acting like a Mentch is just as, if not more, important than looking like a Mentch. My barber knew this, and Reb Dovid embodied it. What can we do to promote this lost yesod of yiddishkeit?