A poem that squeezes humor and even transcendence out of my obsessiveness, ineptitude, and rotten choices. I'm guessing many can relate in various ways.
Coming to terms with coming out of the convert closet.
Is it wrong to angle for an edge while visibly Jewish? The Accidental Talmudist and his wife recall an uncomfortable encounter at a nightclub.
A poem about crazy glimpses of alternate realities, and my desire to reach beyond my world, into something new.
A former Buddhist monk got me thinking that time is a horrifying illusion that we can transcend.
Because sometimes you write your story down, even though you'd rather just scream.
Most Jewish communities, whether Orthodox, secular, or somewhere in between, silence something key to my mind or my soul. I dream of a place to call home.
Jewish, Muslim, and Christian women basked in 48 hours of meaningful sensations - a phenomenon I pray was captured by the cameras for the world to see.
If that security guard/Were to ask me today/“Little girl are you lost?”/.../The unspoken answer/Would be yes
How many times do we as women push ourselves to go to sleep “just an hour later”, skip that meal, run out to do a chore that “can’t wait until tomorrow” because we hear our families singing Eishet Chayil in our heads and wish we felt like we deserved it?
