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?
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.
A poem about my potential encounter with my deceased grandmother one Yom Kippur—and fear, doubt, mystery, and the mystical power of the sun.
Shlomo Carlebach said that gentiles tell stories to put themselves to sleep; Jews tell stories to wake themselves up.
This is one of the hardest things I’ll ever share: I didn’t fast on Yom Kippur. I know, right? A shanda for the goyim, take...
My whole life I had it backwards. It took a moment, just one small talk, to make me realize how wrong I was: Yom Kippur is the happiest day ever.
Like an alcoholic I feel like saying, "It's after Yom Kippur somewhere", as I crack open my spirit once again. Maybe I should stop. I've had over thirty Yom Kippurs already and I need to drive home.
I exist beyond biology....I am a warrior and my cause is honesty...I choose to feel everything.
