What will you do with all of this outrageous beauty?
Because sometimes you write your story down, even though you'd rather just scream.
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.
Somewhere in a midrash it describes how during the plague of darkness the darkness was so thick that the Egyptians were unable to move around. That’s how I feel, spiritually. I feel like the darkness is so thick that I cannot move an inch.
The old adage goes, “You can never go home again”. So when I've spent so much time on the road and finally walk through that door once again, what am I returning to, exactly?
My father would never come back. I never got to say goodbye. Was it all my fault?
Jews are in pain and I don't know what to do about it.
Who knew you could learn so much from some plants?
Have you ever stopped yourself partway through a holiday, prayer service or religious event and thought “What am I even doing here”?