Category Archives: lessons

Mussar and the art of skateboard maintenance

Yeah, I know , I’m well a wear that I’m ripping off the title of the “most widely read philosophy book, ever”.  But a good title is a good title.

All of the part of a skateboard are important, yet they function interdependantly. If you enjoy using your board then you’ll want to keep up with maintenance. Those things we really care about we try to keep functioning as best as possible, if you don’t it will be bad news. If you don’t, for example, tighten the trucks of your skateboard then the board itself will be really loose when you ride. If your grip-tape rips or gets wet, you need to replace it, or you will have trouble staying on your board. If your wheels get worn down, then you can’t skate.  If you don’t maintain your board it’s a good sign that you are not to interested in skateboarding. 


Now, you can have best skateboard in the world, but if you don’t practice then it’s only nothing more than a stage prop. Even Tony Hawk (a professional skateboarder) can’t do a trick or even skate without having a board beneath his feet.  So part of maintenance is practice and part is actually having the board.

What’s the ‘how’ of maintenance when it comes to Yiddishkeit? That’s the question we all are asking.  For me, maintenance is connected to motivation. I think, idealy, it comes from both external and internal sources. You have to want to skateboard, but you also need the skateboard. In regard to my Yiddishkeit, it’s almost the same.

I can have all the gear: Yarmulke, tzitzis, kosher kitchen, etc but if I’m not motivated, then these are ‘stage props’. I can have the strongest desire to attach myself to Hashem and plan to sit an learn but without engaging in Mitzvos and Limud Torah, this desire isn’t actualized.

I wish there was an easy answer, but each person is different. If you were born into a family that is Torah observant then there must have a point when you realized, “Wow, I’m so blessed to live a life of Torah and Mitzvos”. If you were not raised within a Torah observant framework there had to have been some point in your life that you thought, “This is beautiful and it makes sense. I want this life of observance”.

That could be your point of motivation and urge to engage in maintenance. As the title of this post suggests, for me that point was when I first started learning about how to work Mitzvos Bein Adam L’Makom and Bein Adam L’Chavero. The emphasis on this within Yiddishkeit is what “Wows” me (this was not the initial attraction for me however. I had been observant for about 3 years before I actually read any mussar. That’s for another posting).

Find what excites you.  For some else it could be Shabbos, davening, chessed, the laws of Lashon Hara, Chassidus, Halacha, Gemora, lighting candles, the laws of family purity, Chumash, etc. Each of us has that one thing that, at one point, got us up in the morning. Somewhere along the way we just forgot what it was.

Keep all parts in tip top shape.  Just like all the parts of a skateboard are important so is a balance between the many aspects of observant life:  davening, mitzvos, learning, yom tov, nevel vasser, kavod habrios, tzedaka, etc.

Use it or lose it.  For me, this what seems to work, is to simply go back and see what excited me.  There is, I will admit, a great thrill and rush when you find a smooth stip of concrete and push off on your skateboard and let your own power and phsyics propel you.  That thrill is only an echo of what true Avodah should be and can be.

Revealing contents

A peek into a refrigerator can tell a lot about a person.  If you look the fridge in a kitchen in someones’ home and it’s empty it usually means that either they haven’t had time to go shopping or that they simply don’t have enough money to stock the fridge.




A peek into a fridge at the workplace reveals something else. For the past few months the fridge at my workplace has been full of lunches that people are bringing from home. It wasn’t always like that. Except for a few drinks and some Heinz Ketchup, the fridge was usually empty. Those who formally ate out daily have changed their habits, due to the economy, and started bringing lunch from home.


A fridge that is empty might symbolize economic problems. A fridge that is full might, also, symbolize economic problems. Often time, the real back story changes our preception. As most things in life, its not always what is containted inside that matters, but also why those contents are inside.

What I learned when I got my flu shot

Last week I got a flu shot. The person who administered the shot to me told me right before the shot that, “If I relax my arm, it won’t hurt as much later.”

I told her that was very interesting and asked if it had anything to do with the muscle being contracted. I was told that I was correct and that it’s more difficult to put the needle into the contracted muscle and that most people have a sore arm the next day because they put up that resistance.

A day later my arm didn’t hurt as much as usual, but  I could get that conversation out of my head. 

I am, in many respects, a rather easy-going and go-with-the-flow type of person.  I’m, also, rather set in my ways, at times.  Ususally I prefer to think of it as a “stick with your guns” attitude, but when all is said and done, I can be rather stiff-necked.  Grown and change are good things, like a flu shot.  The help you out in the long run and I have no trouble accepting them.  The problem, I realize for me, is that even when I do decide to grow/change there can be a little residual resistance that lingers.  That’s the kicker.

If I know that a specific action is a good choice to make and it will benefit me or my family, then it would seem only right to accept it and go-with-the-flow.  Putting up resistance and “contracting the muscle” will only make my arm sore.  So why put up even that little bit of resistance?  The obivious answer, for me, is that it’s a the most comfortable reaction…resisting change.

As I was thinking about this post, a teaching of R Moshe Chaim Luzzato (the Ramchal) came to mind.  In Derech Hashem (part 1, chapter 4, section 4) the Ramchal teaches that:

The Highest Wisdom too into account all the categories of man’s natural faults as well as all the concepts of true excellence and value required by man in order to become worthy of being drawn close to God and enjoying His good.  Taking everything into account, He set up patterns and restraints [my emphasis] through which everything excellent should be incorporated in man and everything separating him from God, removed.

The Ramchal then explains that the “patterns and restraints” are Hashem’s mitzvos.  I’ve always (well, since 1991) been enamored with this defintion of mitzvos.  Following both the postive mitzvos and prohibitions is really an issue of postive action and exercising our bechira (free will) to restrain ourselves and put up the right type of resistance when neccessary.  In light of my flu shot, I have woken up to the reality that resistance of things that are in my benefit will only leave me sore. 

For a real fascinating exploration of bechira, I suggest reading Dr.  Benzion Sortzkin’s  Bechira:  How Free is Free Will?

As heard from Rabbi Heshy Kleinman

(Photo from inmagine.com)
I was able to hear R Heshy Kleinman, author of the PRAYING WITH FIRE series, twice today.  Tonight he shared the following idea and story:
People often approach davening and the High Holidays and feel that they are not worthy of praying to Hashem.  They have made mistakes during their life or during the year.  They have done actions that have distanced themselves from their creator.  Let’s hear a story.
There was once a famous speaker who, before his offical speaking engagement would begin, would stand in front of his audience and hold up a $100 dollar bill.  He would then ask the crowd, “Who wants $100?”
Everyone would raise their hands and, of course, respond.  Then he would fold up the $100 bill and ask the same question.  Again, everyone in the crowd would respond in the positive.  Finally, he would take the $100 bill crumple it up, step on it and smash it.  The speaker would then, one last time, hold up this dirty $100 bill and ask, “Who wants $100”?  The entire audience would raise their hands.
You, see, no matter how used and abused a $100 bill is, it still never loses it’s value.  Each of us, explained Rabbi Kleinman, has an natural value.  We are each created in the image of Hashem and we each have a powerful connection and relationship with Hashem.  Our tefillos will always reach HaKodesh Baruch Hu, regardless of what we have done in our past.  Our value to Hashem can never diminish.

The derech of the reverse Gingerbread Man mentality

“Run, run, run as fast you can!
You can’t catch me,
I’m The Gingerbread Man!”

Recently while returning a copy of the Gingerbread Man to the library I skimmed through the book. It had been years since I had heard/read the story. I, at first, felt bad for the the Gingerbread Man. He wants to live a life of freedom, like other human beings. He makes a great escape and after a furious chase he eventually ends up being eaten by a fox.

Maybe its just a feeling of being out of sorts lately or the excitement/responsibilty of Elul, but I can see myself (at times) as a Gingerbread Man…of sorts.  What I mean is that the Gingerbread Man makes the mistake of thinking that he is meant for something greater than his potential.  He tries to fight the natural outcome of being a Gingerbread Man.  Despite some couragous antics and thinking that a fox will save him, his destity or Divine Providence is to be eaten.  His nature, that of being a cookie to be enjoyed with a bracha before and after, is the sole purpose of his existance.

There are times that I’ve gotten trapped into the reverse mentality of the Gingerbread Man.  While he, in his crispy-on-the-outside-and-soft-on-the-inside-greatness doesn’t realize that to go beyond the limits of his potential is futile, I can count the times that I have limited my own potenial own based on what I think that I cannot achieve.  When I think about what I could have done at several key points in my life I know that the only thing that stopped me was…me.

As an aside, it’s interesting that the story of the Gingerbread Man, passed down from generation to generation is still the story of a Gingerbread Man.  Perhaps women have a better self view of their potenial and roles in life than we men do.  I know that my wife married me because she saw my potential, not the warped view of Gingerbread Man, who saw what he wasn’t instead of what he was.

Ice cold chessed

At work we have fabulous ice trays in the freezer. They make really nice big ice cubes, perfect for iced coffee. I have noticed that some people use ice and others don’t. Some who use the ice will, sometimes, refill the ice cube trays, while others don’t seem to bother. One of the fundamental teachings of R Dessler was that people, at their essence, are either givers or takers.

Even with ice cubes.

Laugh if you want. It’s only ice, right? However, getting people, especially children, to realized this concept is extremely importantl in character development. I know that when I choose to give, I make everyone around me much happier. Since Purim (a yom tov that contains a mitzvah to give) I have been attempting to teach this concept to my kids. I realized that an easy act of giving was for my 8 yr old son to bring his 6 year old sister her breakfast or dinner from the kitchen to the dining room table and let his sister do the same for him. At first there was some resistance, but eventually both of them have started doing this on their own.

Ice, a smile, a kind word, or even a bowl of cereal makes a difference.

The hashkafic implacations of strikethrough

From Wikipedia:
Strikethrough (also called strikeout) is a typographical presentation of words with a horizontal line through the center of them. Here is an example.

It signifies one of two meanings. In ink-written, typewritten, or other non-erasable text, the words are a mistake and not meant for inclusion. When used on a computer screen, however, it indicates recently-deleted information. (The difference is that in the latter situation, the struck-through text previously was a legitimate part of the document.) It can also be used for humorous purposes, such as something that normally shouldn’t be shown is shown anyway, but with the striketrough put on, rather than the text being deleted.

I admit, using strikethrough is nice, once in a while.  The new version of Blogger in draft allows one to publish using the typographic element of strikethrough.  In life I hardly ever use a pencil, I prefer pen.  When taking notes, if I make a mistake I simply mark it out with a pen.  I have no problem with this.  When it comes to typing a letter, email, or posting, I try to give as much of a finished product as possible.

When it come to Yiddishkeit and mitzvah performance, I’m not so sure where I stand on strikethrough.  One one hand, it’s important to show ourselves and others that we make mistakes, think before we speak, and attempt to even take back things that we say (this can also be done with the DELETE or BACKSPACE key).

On the other hand, there is much to be said for a “finished product”‘ that represents hard work, rough drafts, editing, and spellcheck (currently missing in “Blogger in draft”).  There are stuggles that one may have and accomplishments that one may have made that result in the “finished product”.  These struggle and accomplishments might be of a private nature that only a close friend may know about.  It may be that only Hashem was privy to know of these things.

When it comes to giving chizuk, showing that I made a mistake in a certain area, and thus, exercised a strikethough on a particular thought, action, or word has merit.  However, showing the process involved in correcting something or doing teshuva seems to have even more merit, in my mind, as the total end result should be shelaymus (perfection).

A story about Rav Kook and Reb Aryeh Levin

(Picture from istockphoto.com)

SerandEz has an awesome post last week titled “A List Letterman Won’t Be Doing Anytime Soon ” . I had actually planned on posting the except below a long time ago, but had forgotten about posting it until I read the above mentioned post.
This story about Rav Kook and Reb Aryeh Levin from A Tzadik in Our Time is one that I tell my kids as soon as they can understand the lesson within it.

who taught him compassion

In his memoirs Reb Aryeh wrote:
I recall the early days, from 1905 onward, when it was granted me by the grace of the blessed Lord to go up to the holy land, and I came Jaffa. There I first went to visit our great master R. Abraham Isaac Kook (of blessed memory), who received everyone. We chatted together on themes of Torah study. After an early minhah (afternoon prayer-service) he went out, as his hallowed custom was, to stroll a bit in the fields and gather his thoughts; and I went along. On the way I plucked some branch or flower. Our great master was taken aback; and then he told me gently, “Believe me: In all my days I have taken care never to pluck a blade of grass or a flower needlessly, when it had the ability to grow or blossom. You know the teaching of the Sages that there is not a single blade of grass below, here on earth, which does not have a heavenly force (or angel) above telling it, Grow! Every sprout and leaf of grass says something, conveys some meaning. Every stone whispers some inner hidden message in the silence. Every creation utters its song (in praise of the Creator).”
Those words, spoken from a pure and holy heart, engraved
themselves deeply on my heart. From that time on I began to feel a strong sense of compassion for everything. (Pages 108-109)
There are many times when it would be faster to walk to shul by cutting across a grassy stretch of land on Shabbos or easier to ‘cut across the grass’ or even walk over the planted grass that for some reason is in the middle of a parking lot. There are times when it’s easier or quicker, I know. I, mostly, try to stay on the sidwalk, though. Mainly because of this story. If each blade of grass and stone has meaning, then even more so, each person.

Where Hashem’s Shechinah resides

During an Avos U’banim (father and son) learning program on Shabbos I had a discussion with my son (entering 3rd grade) and one of his friends (entering 5th grade) about behavior and kavod (honor) that we need to have while in a shul or beis midresh.

I quoted the Gemora in Megillah 29a that states the since the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash (Holy Temple) Hashem’s Shechinah (Presense) which use to reside in the the Beis HaMikdash, now on a certain level resides in a beis haknesses (shul) and beis hamidrash (study hall).

My son’s friend piped up, “I thought that Hashem is everywhere?”
My son then quickly quoted the famous Uncle Moishy lines, “Hashem is here, Hashem is there…Hashem is truly everywhere.”

They brought up a good point. I submitted to the following analogy to hopefully explain this concept:

We know that the sun give us light all over the section of the Earth that it shines upon. However if you were to take a magnifying glass and put a leave under it, with some careful focusing you can focus part of the sun’s light and burn a leaf (this was a favorite activity of mine when I was younger). By doing this we are not taking away any of the light that’s being shined by the sun. So to, as I explained to my son and his friend, when we say that Hashem’s Shechinah resides in both shuls and batei midrashim, it doesn’t mean that Hashem is only in these places and not everywhere else. The Shechina itself is only being re-focused in certain locations. That focusing of doesn’t take away from Hashem being everywhere.