I’m lonely for a real leader. I’m surrounded by charismatic pulpit Rabbis, authors, lecturers, Halachic geniuses and community activists-- yet something is missing. I don’t feel like there’s anyone out there fighting for me.
Reflections on community, from a Yom Kippur of inspiration and challenge.
My writing tends towards intimate self-disclosure. It's exhilarating, terrifying, and dangerous for me. I hope it promotes growth and change.
To so many common expectations, I say: "I would prefer not to."
Shabbat is a time of peace, but for an anxiety-sufferer, the quiet can be a struggle in itself.
I was made for breaking. I am built from the raw material of utter destruction, every fissure
bursting with crumpled petition.
Is it so bad to have the walls breached?
Without it there could be no growth.
Isolation would set in,
The possible would remain impossible.
I don't really understand Talmud, but sometimes it speaks to me in ways I can't ignore.
