When You Can't Live Your Dream

I've written nearly 2,000 posts on this blog since launching it in 2006. In my life and career, I've written millions of words. I was once an influencer in the Jewish world who spoke at conferences on panels and was a sought-after source of ... something. I've somehow impacted hundreds of people, answering questions about Judaism and converting to Judaism. I've managed to be the subject of forums and conversations and harassment and abuse, as well as praise and appreciation.

When I launched this blog, I wanted to tell my story and share my experiences. I don't know that my goal was to help others, but it was most definitely my version of self care before it was trending. And it had the happy byproduct of making me something of a "who's who" in the world, even if that world was small and it was Jewish. I loved that world.

And now? Although I have a dozen angles with which to share my life to the world, it no longer feels like a priority. I post a lot on Instagram, but my life is largely consumed with work and then the side hustles and helping my kids' preschool with marketing and my kids and husband. My spare moments are rare, and when they come, they're eaten up by grocery shopping or cooking or maybe catching an episode of Superstore with my husband or taking a shower.

I don't know who I am or what I'm doing anymore. When I ask myself what my passion is, what would make me happy, all I hear is "I want to write. Just let me write."

But most of the time, when I sit down to write, the keys are empty.

I write at work about manufacturing and marketing and fintech and senior living and a million other topics that I'm proud to be able to write about because I'm a damn-fine researcher and an even better writer.

I think the biggest problem is that I can't drop everything and do whatever I want because I'm not independently wealthy and we haven't saved properly. I can't live on a whim or live my dream or live my passion or whatever because it's not an option. I can live my truth, that's for sure, because my truth is that life is hard and I can't do what I want. Still.

So I'll keep plugging and chugging along and hoping something clicks, something happens, something sparks, something that means I can stop the side hustles and extras in favor of something that is fully satisfying and stuff-dreams-are-made-of worthy.

Ask Chaviva Anything: Shabbat Candles, Mitzvah #16, and More

Hey hey, it's time for another installment of Ask Chaviva Anything! Let's dig in.

Q: How do Jews participate in lighting candles on Friday evening when they have a son who plays high school football on Fridays?

If someone has a son playing football on Friday evenings, after sundown, on Shabbat, there is a pretty good chance they're not Torah observant (Orthodox if you want to go that route), so their observance of candle lighting will be in accordance to however they understand the law. Many families across the spectrum will light Shabbat candles, have some challah and wine and a nice dinner, and then go to the movies or sit down to binge on Netflix on Shabbat. 

Is this how I believe and feel that it should be done? Nope! Would I chastise someone who is going to take the step to light candles and then go to a football game? Nope! Is this how I want my children to observe Shabbat when they're older? Nope! But Jewish observance is fluid and people are on the ladder moving up and down and up and down. The ladder leads us all to HaShem, so as long as Jews are on the ladder, I think that's a darn good thing. 

Q: I am studying the 613 Mitzvot. #16 - what is the scroll of Torah that is to be written?

Good question here! So according to the Rambam's list of mitzvot, #16 is actually a mitzvah about character: "You shall not hate your brother in your heart; you shall surely rebuke your neighbor, and not bear sin because of him" (Leviticus 19:17). The #16 you're citing comes from a different list, probably those listed out by the Chofetz Chaim.

In most lists, the writing of the Torah mitzvah is #82 I believe.

Either way, the scroll of Torah is exactly what it sounds like! It's the five books of Moses, the written Torah. 

Q: Do Jews light a 7 branch menorah in their homes and is there a special way to light it?

Nope, and nope. Now, if you're thinking about the chanukiyah that we light every Chanukah, then yes, we light an eight-branched chanukiyah, and there is a special way to light it. Read more here. 

Judaism and Sparking Joy

I might be late to the party, as is want to happen when you've got three kids and a full-time job, but I want to talk about the Marie Kondo "KonMari" movement and that whole "does it spark joy" mantra. I've watched quite a few friends KonMari'd their houses and lives, and I got to thinking about the concept of joy and what sparks joy in my life, not to mention the amount of excess junk floating around my house that leaves me feeling like I'm drowning most days.

You see, I moved around a lot as an adult. I was never particularly attached to things. The stuff I was most attached to were my words, and those went with me wherever I was because of the magic of the interwebs. I remember losing a hand-scribbled poem I feverishly wrote in the back of a poetry venue in college and freaking out until I could actually locate the flyer (yes, the poem was written on the back of a bright orange flyer for another event). Paper was my enemy, things were my enemy, words were my voice and my power.

So, as I moved from Nebraska to Washington D.C. to Chicago to Connecticut to New Jersey to Denver to Israel, I took very little with me from place to place. I had my clothes, some books, a bit of Judaica, and that was it. I didn't need much. I never needed much. Things were replaceable, and they were just things.

Then I met my husband. Although he didn't have much in the way of stuff, he had a lot of stuff. Does that make sense? I feel like over the past six years we've collectively amassed an immense amount of junk and despite taking a bag or two to Goodwill every other week or so, we still have so much stuff. Is it because we have kids? Is it because we're settled? Why do we have so much stuff?

I'm sitting in the basement of our little house (seriously, our backyard is the same square footage as our whole house), looking around the room, and although I love this couch, I could live without it. Same with the TV and most of the books and the lamps and the other random things laying around. The photos, of course, would stay with me, as would the memory books from my kids' schooldays. I want them to be able to look at them someday and decide how and when to dispense of them.

But if I ask myself, do these things spark joy? That's different than asking if I need or even if I want them, isn't it? And it's definitely different than asking if these things make me happy, right?

According to some definitions, happiness is fleeting, while joy is long-lasting and deeply embedded in the mind, body, and spirit. So, although a quick trip out of state alone without having to worry about crying babies in the middle of the night might make me happy, will it bring me joy?

In Hebrew, there are a number of words that are translated regularly as "joy," including:

• simcha (שמחה‎): broadly used for happiness, but also for special happy occasions
• osher (אושר‎): used for a deeper, more lasting happiness (also where we get our son's name Asher!)
• gilah (גילה‎): often refers to an ecstatic outburst of joy
• ditzah (דיצה‎): often translated as a sublime joy
• sasson (ששון‎): a sudden or unexpected happiness
• ... and many, many more

Simcha, in particular, is fascinating in the Torah, because it's never experienced alone. Simcha is joy that is shared. In this way, then, happiness is a larger concept while joy is what happens in the moment (contrary to the definition offered above). Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, in a discussion of happiness and joy, quoted J.D. Salinger, who once said, "Happiness is a solid, joy is a liquid." And further, Rabbi Sacks says,

"Happiness is something you pursue. But joy is not. It discovers you. It has to do with a sense of connection to other people or to Gd. It comes from a different realm of happiness. It is a social emotion. It is the exhilaration we feel when we merge with others. It is the redemption of solitude."

This idea really resonates with me. Rabbi Sacks says that Judaism is an ode to joy, because through all of the ups and downs, tragedies and successes, the Jewish people have always found a way to be joyful, to gather, and to rejoice. Joy is found in the now, in the acceptance and appreciation of this very moment, and it all happens in the pursuit of happiness, I suppose. 

So, in a way, the KonMari approach of asking "Does this spark joy?" makes sense in the moment. It makes you consider the very instance in which you're living. However, if joy discovers you and not the other way around, the method makes no sense. 

Looking at my life, and knowing that I don't live in a world based on things, it's easy for me to see what joy there is in my life. People who come and go, experiencing the unexpected, moments that I could never have possibly imagined, those are all of the things that bring me joy, because it's about connections, engaging with words and emotions. It's bigger than things and stuff, it's all about something greater, something larger, something more important. 

And then, of course, there's the whole issue that the KonMari method might be venturing into animism, which presents a whole other issue ... but I'll let Jew in the City tackle that heavy topic.

Thoughts on Being the Jewish Convert Mom

Almost suddenly, I've realized that where I thought I was empty, I'm full. My point of view here on the blog was once as a woman going through a conversion, then as a Jewish woman navigating life as a convert, navigating life as a divorced convert, navigating life as an Israeli, navigating life as a mom ... and now?

Now I'm navigating life as a Jewish woman watching her children grow up in a completely different universe than the one she grew up in.

Every day I realize how completely and utterly unprepared I am for parenting Jewish children, but I also realize how lucky I am being able to watch my kids grow up with the gift of being members of Am Yisrael. I came late to my destiny, they'll grow up knowing theirs.

Here's to another adventure!

On the Backs of Women: Sheli v'shelechem shelah hu.

New favorite quote/piece of Torah?

My Torah knowledge and yours is actually hers.
Sheli v'shelechem shelah hu.
שלי ושלכם שלה הוא

The whole of the story goes like this about Rabbi Akiva and his wife Rachel:

He went back and sat for another twelve years in the study hall. When he came back he brought twenty-four thousand students with him. His wife heard and went out toward him to greet him. Her neighbors said: Borrow some clothes and wear them, as your current apparel is not appropriate to meet an important person. She said to them: “A righteous man understands the life of his beast” (Proverbs 12:10). When she came to him she fell on her face and kissed his feet. His attendants pushed her away as they did not know who she was, and he said to them: Leave her alone, as my Torah knowledge and yours is actually hers.

I read this in Eishes Chayil, and it came at the culmination of the book in explaining the culmination of what it means to be an Eishes Chayil. All that you do for your children and your husband and family and community, from dawn until dusk, working, and providing, and tidying, and everything else you do to allow those you love to become their best, most amazing selves, all comes back to the Eishes Chayil. 

The world is built on the backs and strength of women, of wives, of mothers. And that is quite the responsibility and point of pride. 

I'm gearing up to write a longer review of the book for publication, and I've got so many highlights, so many questions, so many thoughts. Stay tuned, it's coming!

Book Review: G-d versus gods by Rabbi Reuven Chaim Klein

Sometimes, it's just easier to do things in a video. Check out my review of Rabbi Klein's newest book G-d versus gods: Judaism in the Age of Idolatry, out now from Mosaica Press!


Get your copy on Amazon or Mosaica Press. 

All Shuk Up: Mujadra Basmati Rice Recipe, Vegetarian Jerusalem Mixed Grill, and More!

Hey hey happy Friday! Ah, it's nice to not have the pressures of work (it's been a long week, so I'm slacking today sort of but not really).

So I've been going all in on Instagram these days, and I've fallen deeply in love with the stories function. So, if you're on Instagram, make sure you're following me at @TheChaviva. I like how quick and easy it is to engage and interact with people, and it just fits in a bit better for me these days with all that's going on than long-form blogging does. I know, it's tough, but there we are.

First up: All Shuk Up! This is my new favorite obsession ... it's a company that importants goodies straight from Machane Yehudah (aka the shuk) in Jerusalem. Go there, buy all the things, and enjoy. Here are some of our favorites:

Shakshuka spice mix!

• Dried fruits: clementines, mangoes, strawberries, mango balls (like eating mango candy)
• Dried apples and cinnamon: I ate this on greek yogurt and HOLY CANNOLI. New favorite thing.
• Meurav Yerushalmi spice: recipe below!
• Moroccan Fish spice
• Shakshukah spice: using this tonight for Shabbat dinner and I'm super stoked. 
• Pistachio mix
• Za'atar Blueberry Pesto mix: This is ... just ... I have no words. It's SO good. Mix it into rice or quinoa, throw it on some hummus, eat it plain, toss it with some pasta, everything is possible. 
• Mujadra mix: see a recipe below!

I ordered a bunch of the $2.50 samplers of the dried fruit, and my kids were super jazzed with the ones mentioned above. They weren't huge fans of the watermelon or the banana rolls, but I thought they were both pretty awesome. 

Pistachio mix. DROOL!

If you place an order with them, mention my name in the comments so they know how you found them! There's also a discount code right now just in time for Tu B'Shevat. Enter TBSHVT at checkout for free shipping.

And now ... recipes!

So the mujadra mix is one of my husband's favorites. On my recent trip to Israel, I mulled back a TON of stuff from the shuk, including a mujadra mix that came pre-mixed with rice in it. This one doesn't have the rice in it, but it was easy enough to throw together a recipe for the Instant Pot. 

Mujadra Basmati Rice

Ingredients

• 1 cup All Shuk Up mujadra mix (lentils, onions, spices)
• 1 cup white basmati rice
• 2 1/2 cups water
• Dash of salt

Directions

• Spray the IP with your oil of choice to prevent sticking.
• Throw everything in the IP. 
• Cover and make sure the vent is sealed. 
• Cook for 10 minutes on high pressure.
• Let pressure release naturally or do a quick release >> it's up to you
• Enjoy! (I like to serve this with salmon.)

Mr. T would eat this every day of the week if he could, no lie. This will be one thing I have in stock always. He misses Israeli cuisine (he did live there for like 10 years), and so do I!

Next up is another spice mix Mr. T asked me to pick up: meurav Yerushalmi mix. One of the most popular meals you can get in Israel basically anywhere is the Jerusalem Mixed Grill: chicken hearts, spleens and liver mixed with bits of lamb cooked on a flat grill, seasoned with onion, and a ton of spices. 

Now, we're vegetarian at home but he's been jonesing for this, so I put on my kosher-cooking thinking cap and came up with this: Jerusatarian Mixed Grill. It's a vegetarian twist (really it's vegan) on the Mixed Grill using the meurav Yerusahlmi mix!

The proteins were Gardein's Beefless Crumbles + Chickpeas + Gardein's Chick'n Scallopini, and the recipe looks roughly something like this: 

[I wanted to put a picture here, but it's not the most photogenic of foods HA!]

Jerusatarian Mixed Grill

Ingredients

• 1 bag Gardein's Beefless Crumbles
• 1 cup chickpeas
• 3 Gardein Chick'n Scallopini
• 1 yellow onion thinly sliced
• Plenty of All Shuk Up's meurav Yerushalmi mix

Directions

• Fry up/sauté the yellow onion until it's brown and caramelized and set aside.
• Cook Beefless Crumbles according to package directions. 
• Cook Chick'n Scallopini according to package directions and then slice them into strips or chunks. 
• In a large wok-style or saute pan, mix together the onions, crumbles, chickpeas, chick'n, and meurav Yerushalmi mix until thoroughly combined. 
• Serve with pita, hummus, tahini, Israeli pickles, green olives, baba ganoush, and more. 

Are you going to order from All Shuk Up? Have you already ordered? What are you most excited about? 

Ask Chaviva Anything: Am I a Religious Jew?

Not related to this post, but ... I highly recommend getting this book. 

Ah another rousing installment of Ask Chaviva (Almost) Anything, and I got a few doozies. Let's start with the easy, yet incredibly offensive one, shall we?

Are you deeply religious? This seems like an absurd question given your conversion journey however it seems as though you mention surface things of a Jewish lifestyle (cooking, kids, Shabbat) but not the joy/love you have for the Gd of Jews and the actual faith itself. I suppose what I’m attempting to say is that you seem to be culturally Jewish without being religiously Jewish.

Well hello there. Now, I could get super offended at how completely offensive your question is, because you've asked a question based on reading some blog posts and not seeing me in real life or knowing me or really digging into the thousands of blog posts I've posted about my relationship with HaShem (which, by the way, is meant to be deeply personal and private) or things beyond the superficial, but that would be an exercise in futility. 

Making a statement suggesting that I'm not "religiously Jewish" is, well, gosh. I don't even know where to begin. It's presumptuous, it's offensive, it's hurtful, and, if you're a Jew, then you're breaking quite a few mitzvot regarding converts. 

I am a married, full-time working mother to three kids ages 5, 2.4, and nearly 9 months. On top of that, I do marketing work for my kids' preschool and work other side hustles to help keep our family on the up and up. First and foremost, I'm a Jew. Then I'm a mother. Then I'm a wife. Then I'm an Israeli. Then I'm writer. And so on. Capiche? 

This is the period in basically every Torah-observant Jewish woman's life where she can barely find five seconds alone to use the bathroom, let alone to spend hours online writing about her deepest inner feelings about HaShem and what it means to be a Jewish woman and mother and how I can't seem to find the brain space and focus to formally daven. That being said, I cry out to HaShem daily ... for strength, shalom, guidance. 

So, before you go throwing around things like "Oh you sure seem like a cultural Jew, but not a religious Jew!" take a step back and recognize that I'm a real human with a real human brain and a real human life that is a whole heckuva lot more busy that you can possibly imagine. My religiosity is my business, not yours, not anyone else's. 

I'll also say that I am sorry for whatever it is that you're going through that you have to project these sentiments on me. We often project our greatest struggles onto others as a means of deflection, so I hope you find your peace and direction as well.

Oh, one more thing, this:

And now for the tougher one ...

Did you know you have a huge “Messianic” following? How do you feel about that and what do you think of their lying by omission to be in Jewish places (such as mikvas)?

Wait, WHAT?! No, I had no idea. How do you know this? Where do I find this following? How, what, where, when ...? I'm baffled here. 

Okay, now to compose myself ... I'm not sure that there is such a huge problem with these people making their way into mikva'ot, because that's such a personal experience it's not like they're influencing others while they're there. Messianics who go door to door or work their way into Jewish preschools or organizations and slowly plant materials and ideas among communities, that's what seriously bothers me. The sneaky factor of Messianics drives me nuts. I'm an advocate of being loud and proud about who you are and what you believe, not sneaking around and defining yourself by what you aren't or by some kind of mask of who you are. If Messianics want to be Messianics, they should own it and stop trying to sneak their way into people's minds. 

But seriously, who are these people and where is this following!?

Are you in imamother? Favorite topics?

I'm not. Should I be? What are YOUR favorite topics?

---

Want to ask me something? Try not to be an offensive jerk about it, okay? Ask away!

Recap: Jewish New Media Summit 2018

Hanging with Motti Seligson of Chabad and Howard Feldman of his own awesomeness and ChaiFM.

I was privileged to be invited to the 2018 Jewish New Media Summit this past week in Israel. I left on Thursday, November 22nd, got to Israel in time for Shabbat the next day, slept all of Shabbat, and then got to conferencing on Sunday, November 25th through Wednesday, November 28th. Here's a quick recap of each day:

• Day One: The opening night began in Zedekiah's Cave with some yummy-looking food I mostly couldn't eat (gluten, sigh). The weird thing about this venue was that, well, we're the media and influencers and bloggers and there was no cellular or wi-fi available. Nothing like throwing a bunch of media folk in a cave without the ability to relay what's going on to the rest of the world. We listened to Michael Oren go on and on about how amazing Donald Trump is and then got a stellar comedic presentation by Avi Liberman. The evening ended with a truly bizarre performance by Voca People (so much talent, way too much shtick). Bedtime? Roughly 10 something p.m.
• Day Two: The first full day of the conference was filled with back-to-back speakers and presentations starting at 8 a.m. Again, in a space with not great wi-fi. This day was probably one of the most informative, mostly thanks to a talk gave by journalist Matti Friedman, which I'll talk more about in a bit. Then, we packed up and moved on to dinner, followed by a special viewing of the new light show at David's Tower, which was absolutely incredible. While everyone took a mini tour and got their drink on, I went down to the Kotel for an incredibly moving evening before hitting the sack around 1 a.m.
• Day Three: I was supposed to go on an Old City tour, but I ended up in Tel Aviv touring some pretty exceptional places, including Start-Up Nation Central HQ. Then, we got a private, delicious tour of the Carmel Market, where there are shockingly plenty of kosher places, including the most delicious hummus place I've ever been to in my life. The new trend? Hamshuka! Stay tuned for more on that tour in another post. The evening ended at a club where there was no food for me to eat, so I cut out early because, well, it wasn't my cup of tea. 
• Day Four: The day started at President Ruvi's house, which was pretty awesome, because the President of Israel is basically like the grandfather you always wanted. We then went on to the Knesset, where we got a beautiful tour of Chagall Hall and then got a huge surprise: Bibi, who was supposed to show up the first day, showed up at Knesset! The best part? He answered our questions like a truly real, honest, transparent person. Then? I as he left, I asked him if he'd take a photo with me, to which he said "No," followed by a quick, "Okay, quickly." Brilliant!

So most of my takeaways come from Days Two and Day Three, a lot of this based on what Matti Friedman had to say followed by tropes that continued over the next few days. The three major takeaways for me were these: 

1. The conflict narrative was crafted, and journalists place facts into that narrative and make them fit. Whether the facts are positive or negative, they fit into the narrative by the will of the press. The problem? The press fancy themselves activists these days. The world doesn't need activists, it needs facts and an honest narrative seated in history. As Matti Friedman says, if a reporter is sent to cover what is meant to be a major protest and only three people are there, the journalist has to fit the facts into the narrative, so the lede will read: "A small, but vocal group of protestors ..." I'm going to be uploading some of his talk a bit later, so stay tuned. 
2. Diaspora Jews, especially liberals and younger Jews, have more exclamation points than question marks, and more information than knowledge. Israel's primary focus right now is to help Diaspora Jewry turn its exclamation points into question marks and to turn information into knowledge. Questions and knowledge are the key to truth, and they're two areas that need so much more work.
3. Anti-Zionism has become the proxy for antiSemitism. It's safer and more people can get away with it because the assumption is that anti-Zionism is about the state and not the people who run the state. But it's merely become a socially acceptable substitute for antiSemitism. Can you be anti-Zionistic without being antiSemitic, you'll ask? As there are plenty of Jews who are anti-Zionism. But think back to America and Europe leading up to World War II. There were plenty of Jews born of a higher class who sought to hide their Jewishness and even berate the shtetl-dwelling Jew as lesser and "bad for the Jews." So, it's basically that, but all over again. And in that case, no matter how upper crust and wealthy and removed from the shtetl you were, once Hitler rose to power, you were on the level with every other Jew on the planet. Perhaps Jews who are anti-Zionistic are trying to self preserve under the guise of nobility and human rights, but as history has shown, Jews who battle other Jews never succeed. 

Hanging out at Start-Up Nation Central HQ!

Here are some of the additional takeaways/interesting tidbits that have stuck with me: 

• There are more journalists stationed in Israel to cover the "conflict" than there are stationed in the whole of Africa or China or India. This is pretty shocking/appalling/disgusting, consider the following reality.
• The truth of the matter is that the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is small peanuts and a blip on the radar of the larger problem. Matti Friedman explained this masterfully: If magically, tomorrow, the Israeli-Palestinian conflict resolved and there was peace or not peace, two states, or one, Arabs and Muslims would still be killing each other. The Syrian war wouldn't magically end. Hamas and ISIS wouldn't just disappear. People make the "conflict" out to be so much bigger than it is, and this is the biggest part of the problem and the biggest missing piece of the narrative.
• The diaspora is a necessity. There is no longer a push for every Jew to pick up and make Aliyah. As a result of this, Israel sees itself playing a much more pressing role in Diaspora safety, Israel education, and so on. 
• Israel is concerned about the rate of ignorance of world Jewry about its own Jewishness, Israel, and the Hebrew language. At the same time, Israelis are growing more and more ignorant about Diaspora Jewry, and as such are beginning “reverse birthright” experiences. 

The Israeli Knesset (parliament) 

The interesting thing about all of these takeaways is that, while true, I can't begin to see how sweeping change can occur. It's not an overnight thing, but we live in a world where people see the facts that they want to see and they fit them into the narrative they've been given. So, those who believe Arab Muslims are an abused minority in Israel will continue to find the facts that fit that narrative within their own personal echo chamber, and it doesn't matter how many people speak out and say "Hey! We have full rights in Israel and love it here!" it's not going to change a single mind. 

Additionally, I think that the narrative is too deeply implanted. Israel is a mere 70 years old, but the narrative of a conflict as old as time itself, which just isn't true, is more sexy than talking about something that started up in the 1960s and is complicated because it involves the larger Arab world, Russia, America, and Europe. 

How does re-education begin? That's my question. It can't come from Israel. It can't come from Jews. People who have bought into the narrative of their echo chamber can't hear the facts and information and turn them into knowledge if they're coming from people like me. So how does it start? Who is responsible? 

As we get closer and closer to 100 years out from the blossoming of Nazism and World War II and the subsequent rise of anti-Zionism as a proxy for anti-Semitism, I grow afraid and weary. When little boys walking down the street are getting beat up for being Jewish and anti-Semitic incidents are on the rise at alarming rates, I wonder who will step up and re-educate and re-inform the masses so history doesn't repeat itself. 

Find the Chaviva!

Overall, the best part of the entire experience was the connections and re-connections I got to make. Also, I've got bucketloads of pictures up on Instagram and Facebook, and lots of live Tweets from the conference itself. 

Ask Chaviva Anything: Of Chanukah, Immigration, and Genetics

I realized I have a TON of "Ask Chaviva Anything" questions that went unanswered over the past few years, so I thought, now is a great time to hit some of them. Hopefully the people who asked are still reading. If not? My apologies!

Do u & ur family ever go totally crazy for Chanukah and put up lots of blue and white lites and inflatable lighted decorations and stuff like that? Holiday lites in winter time remind me of a magical winter wonder land!

Nope! We do the basics: A few Chanukiyot and maybe a little sign. In fact, this year, while we were at Target, Asher picked up a little Chanukah sign so I bought it. I'll probably hang it on the front door. But beyond that? No decorations. Most Jews don't actually go nuts for the decorations. I do, however, Love holiday lights. 

When I was a kid, our one Christmas tradition was driving around and looking at all the holiday lights. I think it's still relevant, and okay, to do this now with my kids. We call them "thank you" lights (Thanks Daniel Tiger!) and teach the kids that it's how our neighbors show their thankfulness and friendliness. So, this year, for the first time, my plan is to go out one night with Asher to a neighbored where there are lots of lights, and give him a piece of my childhood as I never have before. 

Do you ever find yourself upset still at how hard it was for your husband to immigrate to the USA?

Yes, 100 percent yes. I think about it a lot. When we have little argument for I'm stressed or I'm wondering what I'm doing here in this part of my life, I think about it. It still makes me cry, actually. We have very different memories about how everything happened, which is also hard. But I became a much stronger person as a result of it, and it definitely has helped inform how I vote based on immigration issues, too. 

Is there a DNA test for Jewish ancestry? If so which is best? I am a carrier of Tay-Sachs and have a sister who died from the disease. I have been asked by doctors if I am Ashkenazi Jewish, but I don't know for sure. (There is an abnormally high rate of Tay-Sachs among the Cajuns in south-central Louisiana.)

We did 23andMe.com and were very happy with the results. In fact, Mr. T found out that he's 99.9 percent Ashkenazi Jew (we knew this, but having the proof is pretty epic) and I discovered what I already knew: I'm French, German, English, and Scottish with zero Ashkenazi Jewry in my DNA. If you click this link and buy, you'll get 10% off your purchase of a kit, too!

Want to ask me something? Click here: Ask away!

I visited Israel: And This is How It Felt

Here's me at Startup HQ in Tel Aviv. 

I wrote this while sitting on the plane in Israel during boarding. These are the days I miss, when words just spill out of me like the overflowing havdalah cup on Saturday nights. It doesn't always happen like this, but when it does, I know I'm getting close to being back to my happy place. 

When I made aliyah back in 2012, I had two — count 'em two — solid jobs. I was pretty sure that neither would let me go, because both were Jewish organizations and I was, after all, moving to Israel. Then, just a few months after arriving in Israel and meeting Mr. T, I was let go without much ceremony. It was heartbreaking. I got married, I got pregnant, and I was jobless. I picked up some freelance content writing work through connections, I applied for several full-time jobs in the tech sector doing stuff I didn’t want to do, and I turned down a few jobs because I couldn’t handle the soul-sucking possibilities.

I spent the second half of my time in Israel underemployed and mostly broke. It was incredibly depressing and demoralizing. My English was great and a definite plus, but my Hebrew wasn’t good enough to make it in most workplaces.

For the longest time, my biggest worry about returning to Israel has been the financial one. Everyone says where there’s a will, there’s a way, but I refuse to live in poverty, constantly in the red, wondering how I’m going to buy groceries. I’ve done it in Israel. I’ve done it in the U.S. I refuse to do it again — and I refuse to live on credit.

During my trip this past week to Israel, I was supposed to spend a day touring the Old City and Har Ha’Bayit. I found out last minute that I can’t visit Har Ha’Bayit without visiting the mikvah first, and then our rabbi said it was a blanket “no” for visiting anyway. There were three other tracks, and I opted for the one that seemed least attractive: a high-tech day in startup nation in Tel Aviv. Some of the people I’d really connected with on the trip were heading on that track, so I said okay, and we were off.

We met with some really fascinating people (and one guy who wasn’t so fascinating) and I ended up realizing that, since leaving Israel, I’ve acquired quite a bit of experience in fields that could — and should — make me marketable in Israel now.

Not only did I spend nearly two years working for a hardware IoT startup that I took to market, but I’ve also been working in inbound marketing and all it entails as a copywriter and editor. My English is 100, and with the right time and patience, my Hebrew can get back to where it was.

As the tour guide said when I told him my recent experience, he said that people would be doing backflips to hire me. Now’s the time to come back, he said.

My ultimate dream is that Tesla opens an office in Israel and Mr. T can put in for an easy transfer and that my job, in which the entire company is remote, will let me work from Israel as long as is humanly possible. I’m just thinking about all of the potential business my company could acquire in Israel.

My wheels are spinning, and I’m considering carefully and thoughtfully what a return to Israel looks like. It’s so funny that I arrived and spent two or three days thinking to myself that a return to Israel with my three monkeys and husband in tow was an impossibility. And then, at some point, the magic of Israel, of the place, the people, it all hit me hard and I can think of nothing other than a quick return.

So, we’ll see how/where things go. Mr. T would drop everything tomorrow to move back. I, on the other hand, am much more practical and have to consider all the variables — financial chief among them.

And now? Time to buckle up for wheels up on my way back to the U.S. L’hitraot Yisrael (see ya Israel).

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Here is something I wrote while visiting the Kotel (aka the Western Wall, and please don't call it the "wailing wall"), I wrote this in a moment of overwhelming emotion in which I felt like my breath had been knocked out of me and my heart leapt out of my chest. I was crying, overwhelmed, more so than I've ever been at the Kotel. I don't know what or why, but something was happening. 

Pigeons pining for our prayers

Pecking away at souls they know are there

Digging deeper into walls of stone

Finding comfort in this place we long to call home. 

Heartsick and the breath stolen

From my breast I can’t breath,

I can’t speak, can't see,

Because all there is is stone.

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Want to ask me something? Click here: Ask away!

Reviving a Bygone Era: Poetry

Once upon a time, I wrote a lot of poetry. For ages, I was convinced I was going to be a poet. I went into university as an English major set on the idea of being an intellectually advanced poetry-composing artist. My dreams were swept under the rug after a visit to my dentist. Yes, during that visit I saw an English diploma hanging on her wall, and, after asking her about it, I decided that I absolutely was not going to go down the path of a wasted degree (but honestly, a necessarily evil, they're all pretty much wasted these days).

I did my best to continue writing, doing slam poetry, trying to keep my mind nimble, but somewhere along the line (during my first marriage) I fell out of love with it. I miss poetry, I miss being able to sit down and the words just flowing like they were already out there in existence and I was merely recording them (think: the Oral Torah) for future generations.

On that note, here's an oldie but a goodie that I once penned in the days when I was generically Missouri born and Nebraska grown Amanda Edwards, shortly before my Reform conversion.

Shmutzik

I fill the shoes of a Jew, and the

wind that floats by your face may be a piece of

me.  but I am no longer in a ghetto.  for now,

they say.  I am in the shul, next to you where you ponder

how history has repeated itself.  I feel like

repetition, with your fingerprint on my history.

northern Africa, Poland, Germany … history moves like

water in its cycle.  changing, but always coming

back to it’s primary form.

and you walk past me as if you can smell it on me,

like fresh matzo or kosher wine.

perhaps I have the nose, the nose that seems to run,

everyone thinks, in centuries of g-d’s chosen.

or maybe you smell on me gelt, centuries

of money lenders and bankers. used and tossed

aside as needed and beckoned upon by kings and

other gentiles. you know it’s christianity’s history

that swore Jews to the money trade.

but it is merely the badge I wear on my arm,

this g-d forsaken yellow badge.  the chutzpah

of the goy who invented such a symbol, a mark

of some kind of chaye.  centuries after it was

created it is stapled to the skin of everyone who

was promised the holy land, who cherishes the

Sabbath and lives respectfully for and of life.

i didn’t kill your g-d.  Jesus was a liberal Jew.

do you notice that for centuries my community

has wanted nothing more than to live in peace?

and we are created and destroyed by being moved,

expelled, killed, murdered, our precious objects

of Passover and holy days stolen and ruined.

my halakah has been forked by your history.

museums are the resting place for my history, my

blood, my memories are kept in plastic boxes

with little cards and dates that mean nothing but to

say this is when a branch broke, a leaf fell, a vine

was ripped from it’s place and made to forget.

my torah, your book, my Talmud, your prayer,

your weapon, my words. my death, your hand.

my mother tells me I am merely a luftmensh, blind

to what will happen to my people someday. she

says to me, ‘my little bubbala, you know that

history has murdered a memory, soon the memory

will be murdered as well.’  we are all g-d’s chosen.

fershtay? do you understand? there is no rachmones

for anything my history has done for your present.

but history has learned nothing of itself, and I remember

everything of it, as it is in my blood, my eyes, my nose,

my fingers.  i breathe and sigh history’s mistakes everyday.

so let us lomir redn mamaloshn.

12 million voices, half murdered.

ashes to ashes, dust to dust, dirt to shmutzik.

you or I, it makes no difference.

little key:

shmutzik: dirt

shul: school

matzo: the bread made during Passover

gelt: money

gentiles: non-Jews

chutzpah: nerve, gall

chaye: beast

halakah: path (in Judaism)

Torah/Talmud: key Jewish books

luftmensh: someone with their head in the clouds

bubbala: darling

fershtay: do you understand?

rachmones: compassion

lomir redn mamaloshn: literally, “let’s talk Yiddish” or “get to the point”