Category Archives: personal

A letter to my Daughter

Dear [First Name] [Middle Name],


You are now past the middle part of your first grade year and just got your siddur. You came home from school so excited about your “siddur party” and were so proud of yourself.  Mommy and I are very proud, as well.  On Shabbos night we sat together on the sofa, while your older brother played with your younger sister.  I went to the bookshelf and brought down a siddur that belonged to my grandfather, your great-grandfather.  It was printed in 1857, so it’s 152 years old.  This is probably the oldest thing we have in our home.  It’s way older than, even, me!


We sat and opened up this very old siddur and I showed you that it was printed in a place called Vienna, Austria.  Vienna, interestingly enough is where Mommy’s dad, your Zaide a’h was from.  We looked at the tefillos and I showed you that the same things that you daven from your new siddur are also in this very old siddur…even Sh’ma!


I’ll give this letter to you when you are older and, hopefully, will appreciate the idea that are past, present, and future are all connected to davening to Hashem and when you open a siddur you are opening your heart!


Love,


Abba

Identity Theft

It didn’t happen overnight.  It was a gradual change.  The essencials that made up who I was seemed to slip away.

An ambush, probably.  A covert operation, if you will.  I couldn’t really say when it first happened.  I do know that at somepoint I did or said something and realized that “this isn’t me.”

On of the biggest weapons of the Yetzer Hora is to make us forget who we are.  It could, in fact, be the biggest Yetzer Hora out there.  This mode of attack is based on making us forget or become desensitized to the fact that each of us are a child of the King of Kings.  This happens when we become to comfortable with ourselves, our abilities, and our hopes.  It’s an attack that hurts, an attack that confuses us (which is the main goal of the Yetzer Hora) from different angles:  our goals, our motivations, our enthusiasm, and our accomplishments.

And to make things worse, when this happens to me and I reflect on it (after the fact) I’m almost impressed with the tactics used by this Yetzer Hora.  It’s not that I forget about the King, chas veshalom, because that would be too easy.  No, it’s not an attack against Hashem.  It’s simply forgetting that I’m the son of the King.  It’s the impression that I have no connection or invitation to the Kedusha, the Torah, or the Mitzvos that Hashem created for me.  That’s the knock-out punch.

Games

(Photo from Fractal Press)
Games.  Some people love them and others can’t stand playing them.  I like some games (like Blokus, Go, Nok Hockey, and the song “Games” by Husker Du), but I’m not a fan of people who play psychological games with others.
I do like Jenga.  I’ve liked it since college.  I like the fact that you can play it with a group and that you can even just play with it alone and it’s just a challenging.  I have found two very important Mussar lessons in playing Jenga.
Firstly:  Every action we do has an effect.  The effect can either be to build or knock down.  This is very true when it comes to what we say to people and how we act.  A smille, kind word, inquiry into how one is feeling, or simply saying “Hello” can have a major impact on someone.  A simple action on a Mitzvah level has untold effects both in this world and the next (this book is a prime example).  A negative look or remark can destroy even the strongest person.
Secondly:  Even if something topples or gets knocked down, you can start again.  That’s
what Teshuva is all about.  It’s not the end of the world if the game ends or right at a critical point in a high pressured game of Jenga with your older kids your 2 yr old uber-toddler decides to “touch the tower”, and it all comes falling down.  It’s just a game.  You can just start over and maybe the next time you’ll win.

Am I reading too much into a simple game of Jenga?  Probably so, but I’m always looking for a lesson to learn in everything.

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.

Opening my heart

Towards the end of the Amidah we say:
פְּתַח לִבִּי בְּתורָתֶךָ. וּבְמִצְותֶיךָ תִּרְדּף נַפְשִׁי
May my heart be open to your Torah.  May my soul pursue your Mitzvos.

I’m on round two of going through the second volume of the Bilvavi Mishkan Evneh.  A few nights ago I came across this:

If the Torah he has learned and the prayers he has prayed until today have not brought him to the state of feeling in his heart that Hashem is a real perceptible entity Whom it is pleasant to live with and cleave to, his Torah and mitzvos were only in the mind, but the heart was not functioning properly. (chapter three)

Yeah, this one brought me to a screeching halt.  This is the real deal.  If I’m don’t feel like davening, washing negel vasser, making a bracha, lighting neiros, learning, dressing tzenuah or doing chessed, it’s a problem.  What if I do those things and still feel nothing?  It must be that my heart isn’t open. 

Each generation has their own specific Yetzer Hara.  Not putting enough heart into Yiddishkeit just might be ours.  There’s a cure, though.  It might not be for everyone, but it’s worth a try and has helped me over the past year and a half.  
 
The gemara in Kiddushin 30b says: Hashem has told Yisrael, “My children, I have created the Evil Inclination, and I have created the Torah as an antidote against it.”  Again, each generation has their own specific Yetzer Hara.  With that in mind, I think it’s safe to type that each generation is given specific seforim and teachers that are vessels of Torah containing the antidote we need against the Evil Inclination of our times. 

Much as been written about the gadlus of the Bilvavi Mishkan Evneh seforim and their author, Rav Itamar Schwartz.  I am, by no means, a talmud of his or his seforim.  I’m simply more of an armchair or between-aliyos reader.  I’m constantly amazed, even in the English, how clearly he gives over important concepts that I have seemed to have forgotten over the years and brings to light new mind-blowing ideas with such tangible everyday life examples.  Even more importantly that opening my mind, my heart has begun be be opened again, as well.  It’s been a slow process, but when I put in the effort, I’m a better Jew.

Building A Sancuary in the Heart isn’t overly intellectual, hippy-trippy, or feel-good-and-feel-frummer writing.  Its’ success is due to the fact that the seforim speak to each person differently.  In fact, the whole approach to Rav Schwartz’s teaching is very different that that of other Rabbeim.  His Torah has been made available to everyone via the web.  The seforim, mp3s and videos are all there, just waiting for you.  If you don’t feel like the Jew you were several years ago, when Mitzvos and the idea of being close to Hashem seemed to be something you yearned for, then this might be the antidote you need