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.
Tell me about my role as a Jewish Woman and why you’ve never had to consider yours.
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.
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.
Appearance-based prejudice is everywhere, and I am very guilty despite my ideals. It's hard to overcome, but let's try.
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.
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.
Despite their joy, Father's Day and Mother's Day exacerbate wounds. How does the motherless child feel while her classmates are making cards for Mom?
I’m lonely for a real leader. I’m surrounded by charismatic pulpit Rabbis, authors, lecturers, Halachic geniuses and community activists-- yet something is missing. I don’t feel like there’s anyone out there fighting for me.
