A poem about my potential encounter with my deceased grandmother one Yom Kippur—and fear, doubt, mystery, and the mystical power of the sun.
Chai Elul Sameach! A message for you from the angels on this auspicious day.
I’m all for the idea that sometimes the best way to fight darkness is to bring a little light into the world. But I think I also used that philosophy to avoid being involved with current events. Until a man proved to me that if I tuned in, I could save lives.
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?
Remember that there is a higher reality in the world. The material here and now is not all there is. Nobody can ever be perfect in the material world, but we darn well can live life with purpose and with meaning.
Am I an artist trying to work in religious themes, or am I a religious person trying to make art? Thoughts on a decade of Matisyahu and knowing oneself.
While in the desert, Moses' periods of seclusion on the mountain were key to his progress as a leader and the transmission of The Torah. Like any introvert, only by entering into a safe, individual space could this have happened.
Moments hold meaning. But do they change our lives in real, sustainable, ever-lasting ways?
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.
