Irony’s Revenge: The Post-Modern Shidduch Date

Jewish Dating Tips #1: If we call ourselves single, we make ourselves lonely—A single is a person shipwrecked on an island. Adam HaRishon, the first man was single. Nobody else has been single since. When you feel alone and single, make your life more meaningful. Start appreciating those around you. Use the most precious gift an unmarried person has – your free time – to help others.

Black yarmulke? Check. White shirt? Check. Black pants? Check. Black Shabbos shoes? Check. Tzitzit out? Check. Sense of self?….As I walk down my street, telling a lie with each footstep, I feel the stares and the subtle resentment of each passerby as they rightfully judge me as something I’m not. I never thought of t-shirts, jean shorts, colorful knitted kippas, and tiztizit, as a statement of who I am before, but in this moment, I long to be me again. Or at least to get to my “date”’s house sooner where they get it.

When I arrive, she’s in the bathroom putting the finishing touches on her costume. From the back, I can already see the difference. The vivacious girl known for wearing clothing so loud that if it actually covered more of her body, everyone within a 10-yard radius would be in danger of becoming blind and deaf, has transformed herself into Frumma Blahstein for our “date.”

“Call me Shua,” I say, arms behind my back and avoiding her gaze as though making eye-contact were signing a ketuba kesuba.

“I’m Nomi,” she says, doing the same (I guess). “Laura, take our picture! Derek, let’s make this as awkward as possible!”

“It’s Shua, and that won’t be hard,” I say. We settle on a position on either side of a plant and look anywhere but at each other. “This is going to be so much fun!” we say, almost in unison.

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Bare

From my blog:

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This is the story of a girl. Many girls, actually. This story was born long ago, but a recent confluence of events has compelled me to record it today. The events are as follows (some are more like situations than events):

  • Event 1: I live with two boys. This is a situation.
  • Event 2: I learn with boys. This is also a situation, but significant event-like moments are reached during the sessions in which we sit across the table from each other and stare into each other’s – um, gemaras.
  • Event 3. Last week, I went to a Shabbat dinner with males and females.
  • Event 4: Last week, I went to a Shabbat lunch with only females.
  • Fact: The difference was astounding.
Arak: a Mediterranean  anise- flavored spirit

Arak: a Mediterranean
anise- flavored spirit

Friday night was fun. There was wine, Arak, deep-voiced singing, and heated debate about discovering the nature of God versus simply following His laws. There were, of course, the overt displays of “bro love,” and the subtle touching of men and women that revealed the underlying desire of every person in that room to get the hell married already.

Saturday lunch was fun. There was wine, a pearl necklace, musical chairs, and discussion about whether showing Continue reading

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[Pardes From Jerusalem Podcast] Ki Tissa 5773: Breaking the Tablets

Pardes 1000xThis week, Rabbi Meir Schweiger discusses Parashat Ki Tissa in “Breaking the Tablets.”

Ki Tissa ’73
Shabbat shalom!

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Rosh Hodesh Adar at the Kotel

From my blog:

We went to the Kotel (Western Wall) to pray this morning for Rosh Hodesh Adar. It started last night organizing taxis for everyone from Pardes who wanted to go. This morning, I woke up at 5:30…I made the decision to wrap my arm tefillin and wear my coat over it. I wrapped it until my wrist, so under my coat it couldn’t be seen going through security. I put my Rosh (head) tefillin in my inside jacket pocket.

I met three other people from Pardes at 6:30am to get a taxi to the Kotel. We waited in line at security. They took my tallit and wouldn’t let me enter with it. They also took my empty tefillin bag. They didn’t know that it was already on my body. Honestly, I didn’t want them for protesting. I lay tefillin every morning, and it’s difficult for me to daven shacharit (the morning prayers) without tefillin now. There is a connection that comes with the tefillin. There is also a connection with the tallit, but as I told the reporters after they took my tallit, I want to pray at the Kotel, that’s why I came, so I’m willing to give up my tallit to be able to pray there on Rosh Hodesh. Continue reading

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[PCJE Dvar Torah] Jeff Amshalem — Circles and Lines: the Maor vaShamesh on Parshat Beshalach

An abridged version of a teaching from R. Kalonymus Kalpan Halevi Epstein, the Maor vaShamesh.

וַתִּקַּח מִרְיָם הַנְּבִיאָה אֲחוֹת אַהֲרֹן אֶת הַתֹּף בְּיָדָהּ וַתֵּצֶאןָ כָל הַנָּשִׁים אַחֲרֶיהָ בְּתֻפִּים וּבִמְחֹלֹת: וַתַּעַן לָהֶם מִרְיָם שִׁירוּ לַי־הֹוָ־ה כִּי גָאֹה גָּאָה סוּס וְרֹכְבוֹ רָמָה בַיָּם                

Miriam the prophetess, the sister of Aaron, took a timbrel in her hand, and all the women went out after her with their timbrels and dancing. And Miriam called out to them, “Sing to the LORD, Who is most exalted; horse and rider He has thrown into the sea.”     Exodus 15:20-21

Why does Moses say I will sing to the LORD, in the future tense, while Miriam says Sing to the LORD, in the present tense?

It seems there is a hint in the teaching from the Talmud that “In the future the Holy One of Blessing will hold a dance for the righteous, and will sit among them, and each of them will point to God, saying, “This is God for Whom I have hoped.” We can understand the connection if we look at how the cosmos was made. Continue reading

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Contra Dance in Jerusalem


The first time that I heard about contra dance, I was a sophomore in college and just taking the first baby steps towards having a social life with people my own age. It was described to me as a “really fun and really easy social dance, everyone should go.” I subsequently managed to find an excuse to not go every time someone asked, primarily because I didn’t like that group of people enough to drive an hour both ways on a school night.

The next year, at a different school and more inclined to talk to people instead of reading in every spare moment, I heard that there was a contra dance on campus. Since the idea had never been unappealing and I didn’t have to drive anywhere, I walked over to our community hall to try it out. Continue reading

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Women of the Wall Rosh Chodesh Tevet

Originally posted on my blog:

I recently learned about Women of the Wall and their struggle for equality at the Kotel, the Western Wall, the most significant religious site for Jews. Every Rosh Chodesh they go to the Kotel to pray together in a minyan (technically, a group of 10 Jewish men, but for them, 10 Jewish women.) They have been facing a lot of hostility from police/government. The Rabbinut, Orthodox rabbis, controls the Kotel and what is allowed to happen there. So this morning, was Friday and we didn’t have school, so I wanted to go and show my support…

 

I came early before the other women entered and filmed a little of the men’s side. They get to read Torah, dance, wear tallit and tefillin. All things the women aren’t allowed to do at the Kotel yet. Continue reading

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[Take 5] My Poland Trip in Perspective

This past Sunday night was Simchat Torah. I spent the evening in the Pardes beit midrash, dancing and singing, along with many of you. The energy in the room was palpable, and filled me up with a feeling of pure joy. I experienced a particularly moving moment when the singing shifted to “Am Yisrael Chai: The People of Israel Live.” I stood there, and I watched people jumping up and down, dancing faster and faster in circles, shouting “Am Yisrael Chai” with all of the energy they could muster.

At first, I couldn’t dance. I couldn’t move. I was instantly reminded of the last time that I heard this song. I was standing with my peers in the Auschwitz concentration camp on the Pardes heritage trip to Poland.

When I was asked to give a “take 5” on the Poland trip, I felt both honored and nervous. I am not sure that my words can do adequate justice as to how this trip has affected me, my Jewish identity, and the way that I walk through the world. But I’ll try.

After some hesitation, I decided to sign up for the Poland trip because I saw it as an opportunity to bear witness to the events of the Shoah, connect to my heritage, and simply because I felt in my gut that this was something I needed to do.

The whole trip, from beginning to end, was a powerful educational experience. Even before the trip, the group was committed to creating an atmosphere where each of us had a role in educating one other. One of my highlights of the trip was learning about all the different Poland personalities that my peers had researched, whether they were Torah giants, contributors to Yiddish culture, or righteous gentiles who risked their lives during the war.

Also, I was appreciative of the balance of the trip. While a significant amount of time was spent visiting concentration camps and holocaust sites, we also spent a significant amount of time learning about the vibrancy of pre-War Poland, Hassidut, and visiting important sites of Torah learning. Another highlight of mine was having an evening to study Torah in a yeshiva in Lublin, one that only a few decades ago had all of their books burned on the front lawn.

While I had many impactful moments on the trip, the greatest, and most unexpected, takeaway from the trip was what happened when I returned to Pardes. On the trip, we had the privilege of seeing many graves and important sites of Torah learning, which laid foundations for Torah study as we know it today. Because of this my learning was infused with new depth, and may separate aspects of my studies were weaved together. My eyes were open in a new way, and I was reading texts differently, and with more enthusiasm than before.

More importantly than this, I now, more than ever, see my learning in the beit midrash as an incredible privilege. And perhaps, going one step further, I see my Jewish identity as a gift, one that I am so incredibly grateful for.

In hindsight, choosing to go on the Poland trip was probably THE most important decision that I made last year. If you have any inkling of interest, I encourage you to go to the meeting on Monday, or talk to students who went on the trip last year. While we all experience things differently, I think that this trip can be an important and transformative trip for anyone.

So, as I stood in the beit midrash on Simchat Torah, I was at first frozen, flashing back to Poland, Auschwitz, the Holocaust, disaster, despair. But as I watched everyone singing and dancing around me, I felt the experience with such depth and emotion that I began dancing, too, and was reminded what it truly means to sing “Am Yisrael Chai,” on Simchat Torah, in Jerusalem.

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My Spiritual High at Zorba

Do you ever feel like there is a cage around you? Like you can carry it around but sometimes it gets heavy and tires you down. Perhaps it restrains you from moving in a comfortable way or running to what you really desire. I hadn’t really thought of myself in a cage at all before going to Zorba, a Festival in an Ashram in the Negev. I was unaware of this weight and constraint. Unaware of the energy I was wasting on thoughts and worries and food that are toxic to my being.

The music was pounding and my heart beat was in sync as my arms flowed freely and I felt my feet discover new bumps on the desert ground. I was blindfolded from seeing the outside world and forced only to look inside. To feel the music pulsing through my body, to feel the tension of being nervous and shy, to feel my muscles tense when I felt maybe I would bump someone. I looked deep inside myself as if my thoughts were separate from my rhythmic body movements. That is when I felt it, I swear I could even see it. My cage was opened and my body and mind were free and relaxed. Tension turned into excitement. Stiff calculated movements flowed as if I had been moving this way since birth. We did this dance practice for an hour. During that hour of dancing in the dark I dug deep and felt completely open to my emotions, good and bad as they rushed around. After the music stopped and we laid on our backs looking towards the sky I felt freer than I have ever felt. I felt connected and light. This was the true start of my spiritual high at Zorba.

Let me rewind a bit. Zorba is a festival that is held twice a year. The Ashram Bmidbar (In the Negev) also has other weekend workshops. Naomi Zaslow and I had heard from students last year how amazing the festival was so we excitedly signed up to go over Sukkot. The ride down rt 90 along the Dead Sea was breath taking. We arrived at the Festival set up our tents and went to explore.

Laura (L) and Naomi (R) at Zorba.

The grounds consist of a multitude of tents which they call “Olamim,” worlds. There is a Yoga world, a rebirthing world, a Buddah stage, a healthy eating world, a mystical world and many more. All throughout the day and night you are free to decide which lessons to attend. I was lucky enough to attend two amazing sessions at the healthy eating tent where I took lessons on the benefits of adding more raw food to your diet as well as having a love relationship with your hunger and food. I also took a few free dancing and meditation sessions as I described in the beginning. These were probably the most impactful because the was no real language barrier with dancing and I was able to just let go and feel uninhibited in front of strangers. It was in the dance sessions and the chakra breathing that I discovered what it means to be spiritually high. Our body and mind does not need any substance to feel incredibly good and free. After some of these sessions I felt such intense changes of being recharged spiritually and energetically. I think it is sad that our society runs so fast to using substances to achieve this feeling when there are natural and healthy ways to achieve it.

Lately I have been struggling with the intense sadness of loss because of the passing of my Uncle. It has been physically painful for me to recite the mourners Kaddish with meaning. Sometimes I feel like it comes out robotically and on these days I am grateful because I didn’t have to feel. During a music meditation I had a breakthrough with the mourners Kaddish and tefillah in general. I was standing eyes closed breathing to the music when I had the urged to recite Mincha. Under my breath I went through the service as best as my memory served me. Pausing from traditional text in my head and switching to personal prayer with ease. I was so grateful of the baby steps I have been taking to make prayer meaningful so I would be able to experience such a reward. I came to the time where I would be saying Kaddish in a minyan. A release shot throughout my body as tears rolled down my face and I recited word by word with each breath the mourners Kaddish. Though I was only whispering and no one was answering me I felt as though I was in the presence of a minyan that was also connected to themselves and G-d. I felt the pain more intensely and real than I had expected. When I finished I was out of breath and my body felt like it had run a marathon. I laid on the ground and felt my heart beat against the ground, as it soothed me into a meditative state.

On Shabbat I felt so connected to myself and to Israel. Naomi and I sat in front of our tent dressed in white flowy dresses and lit Shabbat candles that we placed in the center of a rock heart pattern. As people passed, some completely unaware that Shabbat was upon us, we wished them a Shabbat Shalom. There warm smiles and returned wishes were beautiful. The majority of people at the festival were very secular Israelis, but we were all still Jews with a spiritual connection to something. Some people gathered together to make Kiddush and we swayed to drum beats of Shabbat zmirrot. That night I layed out in the desert and stared at the expansive sky. I felt like I was lying amongst my ancestors who wandered the Negev during Biblical times. It was almost like that part in the Lion King when Musafa tells Simba that they can see their ancestors in the stars if they just look hard enough. I felt that laying there open to feeling the energy of the ground I was able to connect with generations of Israelites.

I have so much more I would like to share about this amazing experience. If anyone is interesting in going I would love to talk to you. I see though that recharges like this festival are needed in our busy lives. This was an extreme example, camping for three days at an ashram. In smaller doses though I think even going alone to the park and sitting with yourself and your thoughts can give you the recharge we need in our lives. I hope to take the idea of balance, openness and energy from my experience at Zorba.

I hope everyone had a very Happy Sukkot vacation and I look forward to dancing forward in life with you all.

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