Can you imagine the practical grace in your thoroughgoing pulsation?
Fear/Loss/Death/Prayer/Faith/Love. This is a small poem about big things.
I think we can all agree that one thing Chabad tradition got right was the establishment of healthy, spiritual habits. This one's my fave.
We've been exhibiting the tendency to run on empty, to pretend the tank is full despite complete depletion.
I spend the whole week living like a pinball; bouncing and ricocheting through life. By the week’s end, the last thing I need is someone telling me how to relax.
"It’s for the children," they remind themselves piously. But the children, the children are out on the street.
A new version of an ancient song from the Haggadah for your Pesach pleasure.
