My Dad was a world traveler. 
I should really amend that statement. 
My Dad worked for an international firm which necessitated his traveling to many exotic locations. 
For long stretches of time. 
When I was a little girl I missed my Dad very much. 
When he would return from a long trip the first question I would ask him was how long he would be staying home. 
The spectre of his prolonged journeys haunted me. 
When he would return, he would regale us with some stories of  his travels. 
For example , he spoke about India and the cows commandeering the streets, making mention that I would be very unhappy amongst the free roaming animals. 
Or South America,  the home of the llama. 
My sister and I probably had the dubious distinction of having the largest collection of llama jewelry on the planet. I always wondered how he managed to find these pieces until it finally occurred to me when I grew older, that he probably purchased these trinkets in the airport on his way home which explains the llama theme from his years of travel to the land where llamas roam. 
My Dad was a pragmatic person and not typically the poetic type, but I best remember his description of a visit to the Amazon (the longest river in the world, not the largest online retailer in the world). 
His journey to that region included a Shabbat and he told us his experience standing by the banks of the river and reciting the Kabbalat Shabbat, the prayers that usher in Shabbat by himself. He pondered that it might have been the first time those prayers had been uttered in that place. 
As a person who kept the dietary laws, my Dad packed carefully, dedicating an entire suitcase to sardines, salami and Matza along with other tasteless non perishable items which ensured he wouldn’t  starve. 
When I was young I thought it was all very glamorous. 
I felt sorry for myself that my Dad was away on these journeys for such long stretches of time. 
It was only later in life that I realized that the person who suffered the most on these journeys - was my Dad. 
He was separated from his family for weeks at a time, subsisting on packaged and awful food,  (sardines - ugh 😑) with the goal to provide for his family. 

Ever feel like you are in dire straits?
Ever wonder what “dire straits” actually means?
Some of you might think it’s a reference to a 1970’s British rock band with the same name. 
They actually chose their name to reference their position in life at the time - struggling and broke. 
To be in dire straits means to be in a difficult or even desperate situation. The phrase originates from 19th century nautical terminology. “Straits are narrow and treacherous passages of water that need to be navigated carefully” Merriam-Webster. 
There is actually a period in the Hebrew calendar which is called “between the straits” and it starts today and continues for three weeks. 
Today is the Fast of the 17th of Tammuz (Shiva Asar B’Tammuz).  We fast today to remember that on this day the walls of Jerusalem were breached by Titus and the Roman army approximately 2,000 years ago. 
 Our rabbis teach us that many tragic events occurred on this date in the past. 
Moses descended from Mt Sinai and when he saw the people worshipping a golden calf, Moses broke  the tablets on which the Ten Commandments were inscribed. 
It is also the date when the  Jews ceased to offer the daily sacrifice in the Temple, thereby signifying the end of a holy era.
The Roman general Apostomus burned a Torah scroll which set the stage for burning Jewish books throughout the centuries. An idol was placed in the Sanctuary of the Holy Temple.
On the 17th of Tammuz when the walls of Jerusalem were breached during the Second Temole era, it must have felt as though the world as they knew it, was coming to and end. 
It was!
Hopelessness. 
Today is also the 1000 day since October 7 when once again there was a breach and many horrors were unleashed on our people. 
A tragedy of epic proportions. 
We are still reeling from the many repercussions. 
Hopelessness. 
How do we as a people move forward in the face of such despair?
The Three Weeks which are also called the time of dire straits, or between the straits is bookended by 17 Tammuz and Av 9, the date when both Temples in Jerusalem were destroyed. 
The second Temple has yet to be rebuilt and our Sages teach us that this is due to our continued baseless hatred of one another. 

I have a dear friend whose name is almost exactly the same as mine. 
Our first names are off by one letter and our family name is the same. 
We travel in similar circles and shop in the same stores.
Over the years we have experienced some funny incidents of mistaken identity. 
I once got a text from a friend telling me she would meet me in 15 minutes on a street in New York’s neighborhood of the Five Towns. 
Being in Georgia, I told her it would take me more than 15 minutes to get there. 
Another time I received a UPS shipment. In the delivery box, enshrined in tissue paper, lay a stunning dress. 
It was lovely, my size and very much my taste. 
The box originated from the same area in New York. 
It only took a moment. 
I overcame my evil inclination and reluctantly called the dress shop, of which I am an occasional patron,  and suggested this garment must belong to my alter ego. 
Indeed!
(Shame I wouldn’t have minded keeping it!)
Lately the confusion is worsening. We are both in the computer system of a vendor where my friend is trying to make a major purchase. 
I receive frequent emails on the progress of this transaction. 
Despite repeated attempts, I can’t make it stop. 
It’s starting to feel voyeuristic. 
I am getting too much of a sneak peak into my friend’s personal life. 
It’s very uncomfortable. 
It is as if I’m being given a front row view on an aspect of her private life. 
This week is a double Torah portion of Chukat - Balak. 

I’m leaving on a jet plane…
✈️ 
This coming weekend is the Bar Mitzva of a grandson in Chicago. 
We are looking forward to this special occasion, especially because this is a very special young man. 
This grandson has some special needs and is a source of much pride to his parents. 
One of his superpowers is that he is extremely observant. He notices everything about another’s behavior to the degree that he can imitate that person perfectly. 
He sees the big picture. 
As I head out on an airplane soon , I wonder what I may learn and observe on the journey. 
Will I see a glimpse of a bigger picture. 
Rabbi Weinreb of Cincinnati shared an experience he had on a recent flight. 
(I told you Rabbis always have airplane stories). 
His flight was proceeding without incident when the pilot came on and asked for attention. He then asked everyone to check underneath the seat to make sure the lifevest was in place. If it was missing, the pilot asked passengers to immediately notify a flight attendant. 
That was the extent of the announcement. 
Rabbi Weinreb admits that this announcement shook him up. He reached under the seat to ensure the lifevest was there and then he reached for his Tehillim, Psalms, and began to fervently pray for a safe landing. 
While the Rabbi was getting more and more nervous and concerned, he noticed the flight crew seemed relaxed and unconcerned. 
He was highly confused. 
After some anxiety ridden moments passed he inquired of a flight attendant. 
She asked him if he found the lifevest and when he answered in the affirmative the flight attendant merely told him to return it to its proper place. 
Thoroughly confused the Rabbi asked the flight attendant what was the nature of the emergency. 
No emergency at all. 
Turned out that when the flight took off a number of vests had rolled to the back of the plane. They were just trying to figure out which seats were missing life vests. 
Rabbi Weinreb realized that this is what life is all about. 

Apparently my eye makeup is not waterproof.
Despite the protestations of the cosmetic company in question, some recent crying jags have resulted in beautiful raccoon eyes and black streaks down the cheeks.
Crying is a unique response.
It is rare to find an action that can express extreme and opposite emotions.
Tears are considered to be the “sweat of the soul”.
When we are extremely sad - we cry.
When we are extremely happy - we cry.
Tears spill when we are angry, frustrated, hysterically laughing and deeply moved.
The Talmud teaches us that when the Temple in Jerusalem was destroyed, the gates of prayer were shut. Despite that seemingly dark reality, the Talmud continues that the Gates of Teard always remain open.
Crying out to Gd in any sort of pain is a way to reach out even when we cannot find the words to articulate our lacking.
This week’s Torah Portion is called Shlach, which means “send”. It is the tragic story of the 12 spies were sent to scout out the Land of Israel prior to entry.
Instead of seeing the incredible beauty of the Land, the spies returned with a negative report which they shared with the Jewish people upon their return. Instead of rejoicing in anticipation of entering the Land of Israel, the people sat in their tents and cried.
Rabbi Shaul Rosenblatt reminds us that the Torah highlights a facet of human nature. “When things are tough, it’s much easier to wallow in our own self pity than to embrace and overcome the challenge.”
The date the spies returned from their reconnaissance was the 9th day of the Hebrew month of Av.
Gd decreed that since the Jewish people cried for no reason at that time, there would be ample reason to cry on that day in the future.
And so it was.
The first Holy Temple in Jerusalem was destroyed on the 9th of Av.
The second Temple was also destroyed on the 9th of Av and it is the anniversary of many tragic Jewish historical events, including the expulsion of the Jews from Spain in 1492.
Rabbi Rosenblatt reminds us that crying in the Jewish tradition is an appropriate way to express emotion. It is healthy to cry when one is in any kind of pain or when one is frustrated. The only kind of crying that is not healthy is crying out of self pity. When one feels hopeless then that crying takes away the resolve to step up and face challenges.
That is why Gd told the Jews who cried over the report of the spies that there would be a reason to cry in the future. That would transform the cry to something more productive.

Isn’t it amazing how some people have a story wherever they go?
Often speakers and pulpit rabbis seem to experience life changing events on every mundane airplane ride.
I think about this a lot.
And following on my recent obsession on the theme of being an “observant Jew” (see past articles for the definition I have been inspired by) it makes sense. Often people who speak are hoping to inspire with their message. Stands to reason that such people are keen observers of their environment and those that intersect with their path. They notice and learn from others and the wisdom they share.
Note to self: pay more attention in those public settings and don’t bury nose in book.
Rabbi Efram Goldberg recently had such an experience.
He shares that on a flight the passenger sitting next to him was growing increasingly agitated by the malfunction of her seat back screen. She got so distraught she was practically punching the screen in an effort to activate it. She caught the attention of a flight attendant and dramatically exclaimed that “nothing is working”.
The flight attendant calmly reframed.
“Nothing is working? We are in a metal box 33,000 feet in the air which will bring us to a new destination in a few hours. The plane is working fine. Isn’t that the main thing?”
Rabbi Goldberg cogitates on those words and brings from them a beautiful life lesson which connects to our Torah portion.
He reminds us that all of us have things that “aren’t working”, and those things may be minor or very significant. But if we focus on the things that are working, like breathing, seeing, hearing, thinking amongst a myriad of “mundane” gifts, we might feel quite differently about our lot in life.
This week’s Torah portion is called Behaalotcha, which means when you go up.
It is the conversation which is being had with Aaron the High Priest who is being given instruction on the lighting of the Menora.
In this portion there are many other topics. One of which is the series of complaints which the people lodge against Moses, decrying their situation. They mourn certain foodstuffs they used to eat in Egypt and gripe about the manna, the Superfood which was door dashed to the front of their tents. It is difficult to imagine these complaints.

Mazel Tov!
That’s the blessing that rings out when someone shares their good news.
We go to a simcha, a joyous occasion, a wedding, Brit, Bar or Bat Mitzva and we say Mazel Tov to those who are celebrating.
Someone buys a gorgeous new house or a brand new car.
Mazel Tov we say.
Seems quite straightforward.
We are well versed in the proper etiquette.
Sometimes it’s harder than one thinks.
What if we are experiencing financial hardship when our dear friend just bought a gorgeous house.
What if we are experiencing infertility when we attend the Brit.
What if we have just ended a long term relationship that we thought would end in a happily ever after as we attend a cherished friend’s wedding.
What kind of a Mazel Tov are we extending?
In this week’s Torah portion is called Naso, which means lift up.
In this portion we have the very famous priestly blessing.
This blessing is extended by the priests to the congregation to this day. The priests ascend the platform which is called the Duchan and from there they share the blessing on the congregation.
I may have shared with you before the story of a young man from the former Soviet Union who was able to emigrate to New York. As a very accomplished student, he received a scholarship to Yeshiva University where he was assigned a tutor to help him navigate the system. The young man worked diligently and tirelessly, achieving much success. His tutor, worried for his health suggested a break. He recommended an hour or two in the student lounge in front of the television, suggesting it was a good way to learn some English. The tutor left the student in front of the TV until a few moments later the young man rushed in and said he found a relative on TV. It turns out that the show playing was Startrek and Mr. Spock had just shown his famous hand motion. Leonard Nimoy was a Jewish actor and he incorporated some of his Jewish heritage into his part. The sign Mr. Spock made with his hand was the way a Cohen/priest hold his hand when administering the priestly blessing. It turned out that this young man grew up in the former Soviet Union when practicing Judaism was highly dangerous. His grandfather taught him one thing. He showed the boy the hand motion of the priestly blessing and said this is the sign of our family. He admonished his grandson never to forget it.
The Russian young man ended his story by saying he was probably the first person to learn he was a Cohen from Mr. Spock.

Hi all.
Don’t worry.
You did not lose a day.
It’s not Thursday.
It is indeed Wednesday.
The holiday of Shavuot begins tomorrow evening and is celebrated for two days, Friday and Shabbat.
This confusion of days reminds me of something that happened a number of years ago when Shavuot was on Friday and Shabbat.
I was actually in labor on my way to give birth. We were living in Baltimore at the time and we were headed to Sinai hospital.
Here it was Shavuot and we were headed to Sinai. (Mt Sinai is where we received the Torah, the 613 Commandments, on Shavuot. Jewish hospitals are sometimes called Sinai or Mt Sinai because all who were ill were cured there at the time the Torah was given.)
We don’t drive on holidays. but the impending birth allowed us to do so as long as no unnecessary mechanical efforts were made, like turning on the radio.
We pulled up at Sinai hospital and my husband jumped out of the car to help me get out but he didn’t turn off the engine. The dispensation which allows for driving or doing anything mechanical with the car, runs out when the destination has been achieved.
Non Jewish Sinai hospital staff are well versed in Jewish law and are familiar with Rabbis jumping out of cars on Shabbat and leaving them running. The policy was for them to then park the car and bring the keys to reception.
So we were not worried about the reaction we would receive from the parking attendant.
Until the gentleman on duty called after my husband’s retreating back as he was bringing me to the Emergency entrance yelling
“ Rabbi! It’s Friday”.
So reaching out one day earlier than expected with a quick Shavuot message.

We have just commenced the fourth of the five Books of the Torah. This book is entitled BaMidbar which means “in the desert”, and the first Torah portion has the same name. The portion begins with a census being taken of the Jewish people.
This counting seems superfluous as there was a census taken after the sin of the Golden Calf.
Why does one count something repeatedly?
When we love that something very much, we have a tendency to count it again and again to make sure all is still there.
Think of a miser counting his gold coins.
Or, in a more relatable example, think of the mom in Disney, counting heads over and over to make sure not one child is missing.
Both examples of love instigating counting.
When Gd counts us it is to give the message that each one of us counts.
This may seem counterintuitive.
We know the Nazis had an obsession with counting their Jews. They tortured the Jewish inmates by repetitively counting them in the most inhumane of circumstances. They also assigned numbers to their prisoners. The philosophy of these barbarians was to dehumanize each Jew, stripping identity and replacing it with a number.
Gd’s counting is the polar opposite. It is a loving counting which embraces and supports the identity of each person.
Gd is saying to each of us that we matter. Without our presence in the world there is a hole in the tapestry of Creation.
That is because each of us has a role to play.
The Book of BaMidbar, is also called the Book of Numbers. In Hebrew, Sefer Pekidim.
The word Pekidim is very similar to the word Tafkid which means job or mission.
Our job is to focus and find our job.
In her recent book which has topped the New York Times best seller list, Rachel Goldberg Polin shares much poignant wisdom. Her book, “When We See You Again” is required reading in my opinion.
Rachel shares a teaching of the Baal Shem Tov, the father of Chasidism, who was asked
“Why does a soul come to the world?” Why are we here? What’s the point?
He answered that a soul comes to this earth to do one act of kindness. One moment.
This does not mean that the rest of life is meaningless, there have to be continual acts of kindness, growth and improvement. But it means there really is an intricate plan for you to do one thing, one day for one person. And what if we’ve accomplished that deed at a young age, why are we still here? Perhaps because someone needs to do their kindness to ME and it hasn’t happened yet.
Because we are all part of this synergy of interwovenness.
Taken from an interview of Rachel Goldberg Polin @unpackingisraelihistory
We as a Jewish people function at our highest level when we experience that “interwovenness”. We only received the Torah when we were so unified that we were “like one heart with one soul”.
But in that unity we never want to lose sight of the one.
We do not set out to lose our identity, to just become a number, rather we want to retain our individuality while maintaining a deep connection to each other.

When I was a young adult, I was so blessed to have the opportunity to study in Israel for two years. My gap year turned from year to years and had my mother not called me home I would be there till this day.
The fact that I was so enamored with Israel may not surprise many but there was an obstacle that I had to overcome.
My first year studying in the land of milk and honey was what is called a “Shmitta” year.
What, might you ask, is Shmitta?
It is the seventh year of a seven year cycle during which the Torah commands the Jews in the Land of Israel to allow the land to lay fallow.
Practically speaking, this means no agricultural work.
Just as there are six days of work and on the seventh day we rest, so too the land also experiences a sabbatical.
On December 10,1992, an article appeared in The New York Times. It interviewed the general secretary of a kibbutz, a farm collective, Kibbutz Chofetz Chaim was founded in 1944 with the intention to create a kibbutz based on Torah law. That meant that all precepts regarding agriculture would be adhered to carefully. They were put to the test immediately because the few months following their founding was a Shmitta year.
Times were very challenging, food was scarce, nonetheless the Kibbutz conquered the challenge.
I’m 1992 the author of the NYT article gave testimony that the kibbutz continued to fulfill the Torah commandments regarding agriculture saying it “takes the Word at its word”.
“The land belongs to the Almighty and not to you” said Moshe Brukenthal, the Kibbutz general secretary. “It’s good to be reminded there’s Someone higher than you”.
Leaving the farms untended can seem to portend ruin for the farmer. But there are multitudes of miraculous stories that abound regarding the Divine Providence which is extended to those who take this difficult challenge.
One famous story was reported about a Moshav which is located about 15 minutes away from Kibbutz Chofetz Chaim.
In the 1951-2 Shmitta year, Kommemiyut was a newly established Moshav which had also made the commitment to Shmitta observance. That year a massive swarm of locusts devastated the farms in the vicinity of Kommemiyut. It was reported at the time that when the locusts reached the boundaries of the Moshav they took a sharp turn leaving all their fields untouched.
This week’s Torah portion (a double one again) of Behar and Bechukotai, is the source for these laws.
In the Parsha the Torah mentions that when we learn about these laws we may become afraid that we won’t have enough food. The Torah preempts the question which is top of our minds and asks for us
“What will we eat”?