I am flirting with all kinds of life changes and choices, from differing modes of observance. I am surrounding myself with more and more people who make their own way in this liquid Judaism which doesn't need to be Orthodoxy but still has G0d at the core. What is for me?
What's the point of remembering when memories are flawed anyway?
We are earthbound for a reason:
to experience the holiness of creation.
I always look down to see the needle enter my arm, so that I can better understand the frailty of life. It stings a little as it goes in, but the pain is worth it.
Given the options, I’m glad I don’t fit in. I’m glad I keep my eyes open. I’m glad institutions make my skin crawl, that being in church—or anyplace that feels like a western, Christian, colonized knockoff—doesn’t feel right to me.
Moments hold meaning. But do they change our lives in real, sustainable, ever-lasting ways?
A conversation about how to honor people, the Torah, and the nuances of public vs. private life turns into a conversation about how we define frum -- about what makes an observant person observant.
And here’s where I start to get uncomfortable.
Now is the time to heal the scars of centuries and of recent times, that have pulled us apart and away from each other. Now is the time to nurture ourselves.
And then I see that which I can not un-see. What it looks like when a car so barbarically hits an elderly man. What it looks like when the Angel of Death wrestles Man. What it looks like when spirit starts to fade from matter.
Being young and idealistic, unafraid and untied down, we did what any sensible couple would do. We sold all of our things, returned our wedding gifts, and moved across the world to study in Israel. It was scary and exciting and we had nothing to lose.
Except losing it all.
