An immersion in a mikvah is done without any clothing, so that there is no barrier between the skin and the water. Though Linda was the one immersing, I also felt exposed.
I didn’t bring it up with him directly, but I spoke to others about my concerns about his beard. The lack thereof. I was afraid that it meant that he accepted the army’s dress standards over our religious ones, allowing a foreign body to dictate his religious choices. My point of reference for that was my having given up playing music on Shabbos, despite that being antithetical to the standards of practicing and performing in the music world. Did that therefore mean that we didn’t share some important values, ones that would affect our relationship in the long term?
I don't really understand Talmud, but sometimes it speaks to me in ways I can't ignore.
Womanhood, and my struggle to contend with its many definitions and impressions on my life. Honest reflections on girlhood and growth, and the revolution of the sacred feminine.
It was the last chicken in Brooklyn. Well, the last one that was still clucking.
If you’re a BT who got/is currently getting slapped in the face by the reality of living in (or even visiting) a charedi community, including but not limited to Crown Heights, these are my insights, learned in the school of hard knocks.
My parents Abe and Sara wanted to be radical and change everything. But my rebellion was just being normal. Or at least, that’s what you would think if you saw me.
Bad treatment brings challenge, adventure, and humor if you open your mind.
The road to Jewish observance has felt like a constant process of disillusionment. But it was in that disillusionment that I learned to forge my own path.
A discussion with the creator of the Misaviv Hebrew Circle Calendar.
