That’s me: a death-obsessed, fearful, life-loving, food-savoring soul who can barely function in this space-filled world. Somehow, I manage to have great adventures.
An astonishing fire blazes within. You must spill forth this light, or be consumed from inside. This is the sacred act of spark extraction. This is returning to the knowing in your bones.
Take a tour of the spiritual opulence of Jerusalem in Sukkah season. Mystical enthusiasts the world over flock here like flies to Rosh Hashana honey. At the heart of this throbbing hub of spirit is Hagilboa street, home to a bevy of mystic magnates and inheritors of vast spiritual fortunes. See how the mystic upper-crust live.
You went off to some island. You spent all day speaking in tongues to a king. There was plenty of food and too many people. Now what?
The passage of time is horrifying to face and acknowledge. But can it lead to something beautiful?
My spiritual quest is kind of skewed since I so want our world and lives to have mystical significance. I wrote a poem about it all.
And so, I thank you, Jews, every single one of you...When I pray, you’re in it with me, joining me in that most vulnerable mission. Whether you’re in synagogue with me, or at another one miles away, or in a different time zone, or still asleep, I have to believe we are connected.