I guess in many ways my life was splattered by this intense desire to save the underdog.
While acknowledging the possible danger of being on the Temple Mount, my overall senses were exhilaration, joy, and closeness to G-d.
I chose this happy path that I'm on. Not the cancer. Life. I want to spread it around like cancer spreads.
I was raised on a solid diet of DC Comics back in the 80s and thusly have a soft spot for secret identities and leagues and secret societies and such.
Shlomo Gaisin of Zusha shares a beautiful niggun and soulful essay in his debut post on Hevria.
I was recently asked, "Sal, what kind of Jew are you?" It was not a rhetorical question.
"Please let me write something worthy, something weighty, or winged....or whatever You want...just bring it! Because we need it...bad, G-d!"
I think that's why I started making up stories. Because I wanted to read something, and the story I wanted to read didn't exist.
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?
As my soul began to shift into 58th Century consciousness, I became imbued with a deeper awareness and confidence in my life calling.
