First, to update you on dd18’s condition.  Thank G-d she is doing well; yesterday for the first time we didn’t hear the sound of shock and trauma in her voice when she spoke.  She has a cast on her right arm which makes doing the things we do in daily life difficult and draining, but she’s in a dorm where she has friends who have been wonderful.  She’s still in pain all over her body but she’s taking painkillers and with time this should pass.  Thank you all for your prayers and good wishes.

I haven’t been writing much in the last couple of weeks because the situation in Israel has been very hard.  It seems inappropriate to write about day to day things when the lives of so many have been turned upside down and destroyed, and I don’t have the words to write about the events that are happening here.  Last week I wanted to write about 26 year old Dalya Lemkos, purposely run over with a car and then stabbed to death by a terrorist; as soon as I saw her photo I knew she was a giving person with a heart of gold.  This week the horrors continued with the synagogue massacre in Jerusalem the day after dd18 was hit by a car.  Jews wrapped in prayer shawls were attacked in the midst of prayer with meat cleavers, an axe and guns.

There are so many more events than this taking place every single day; only the worst of the attacks are reported.  Even here in Karmiel there was an attempt by an Arab to run down a soldier last week (we have a lot of Arabs in our area and have peaceful relations with them; they are doctors, store owners, security guards; they live in our neighborhoods and shop in our stores).  I have written and rewritten and rewritten again thoughts on what is happening, and posted none of it.

Rebbetzin Tzipora Heller is a world-renowned Torah educator who lives in Har Nof, the Jerusalem neighborhood where the massacre took place.  Her son-in-law and twelve year old grandson were present when the attack took place; her grandson escaped to safety but his father was critically injured when attacked with an axe.  He miraculously regained consciousness yesterday.  I am grappling with trying to keep a G-d oriented focus on the tragedies the Jewish people are suffering now, and Rebbetzin Heller shared the following today, which was helpful to me and I believe will be helpful to all of you.   (My added clarifications are  in parentheses.)

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>>Dear friends,

So many of you have showed concern and written, and even more of you have davened. I have no words to tell you how much this means not only to me, but to every one of us. Thank G-d, Shmuli (her son in law)  is much better. He is aware, able to communicate and reminded a friend that he is only giving him his seat on the morning bus to Mir (his yeshiva) temporarily. That doesn’t mean that the story is over. If we closed the book here it would be a cruel denial of our having lived through a pogrom that left Har Nof with four new widows, and 24 new orphans.

The four men who were killed were buried, and their death caused many of us to rethink our ideas about what death is really about. Is dying a brutal death at the hands of people you never met and certainly don’t threaten in any way a senseless desecration of life? Is dying for no reason other than the fact that you are a Jew a meaningless tragedy? Death is never sweet for those who are left behind, but there is some comfort in knowing that the death of these four men was a reflection of the way that they chose to live.

Their deaths had meaning.

The men who died in Kehillas Benei Torah died as they lived; they were dedicated to living with emunah and beginning their days with dedication. They were killed for not being Muslim.  When Miri (her daughter) received the call from the hospital social worker telling her to get to Hadassah (hospital) as soon as possible and not to come alone was one of the worst moments that anyone could have.  All four people in the car spent the twenty minute ride saying all of the variations of  “I can’t believe that this can be happening. It sounds terrible” than you can possibly imagine.

When we were allowed into the recovery room to see Shmuli after his initial surgery there were no tears, we were too shell-shocked.  It takes only seconds to assume a new sort of normal.  When I asked the nurse what the trickle of blood that I saw flowing out of Shmuli’s ear, she told me that they were able to control the majority of the flow, and that this isn’t really significant.  When they do the second surgery they’ll take care of it. The answer sounded reasonable and left me feeling relieved. I had accepted that blood coming out of a man’s head was normal, and that a second surgery was something to look forward to.  I don’t know what Miri was thinking, but the one thing that I know never crossed her mind or mine was regret.

Regret

Neither of us wished that he would have stayed home from the synagogue Tuesday any more than Sunday or Monday.  Neither of us wished that Mordechai would be the kind of kid who doesn’t like to go to shul with his dad.  We both know that the villain of the story isn’t the co-incidences of time and place that led them to be in Kehillas Bnei Torah Tuesday morning.  The villain is the man with the cleaver and the man with the gun. They are the stars of the tragedy but you can’t let yourself be blind to the fact that they are supported by a cast of thousands.  The countless kids who are taught hatred from their earliest youth for anyone who isn’t them. The kadi in the mosque who spews out Itbach al Yahud (kill the Jews) in his Friday sermon after duly praising Al-lah the Compassionate. There are bit players in the ongoing drama.

They have made the media the message, and the subtle and not so subtle anti-Semitism disguised pathological hatred for Israel all deserve billing.  Neither Miri nor I thought about them at the moment.  We were both aware of something much bigger, more real than the ongoing soap opera called Them against Us.  It’s called faith in G-d, who can turn things around in a moment, and whose will isn’t known to us, but His chessed (loving kindness) is.  It was the only thing that mattered in the recovery room.

Emunah (Faith)

Emunah means knowing that everything has one source, knowing that there is purpose and meaning.  It means that you will one day account for your life to the One who gave it to you.  It means that you are living on one page of an endless book, and the only thing that really matters is what kind of person you choose to become.

Choose Light

You can choose light.  You can choose learning.  You can choose acts of kindness.  You can choose closeness to the wounded by continuing to daven for Shmuel Yerucham ben Baila, Chaim Yechiel ben Malka and Eitan ben Sara.  The rabbanim have strongly recommended lighting Shabbos candles earlier.  Maharal (Torah sage who lived hundreds of years ago) tells us that the light of these candles is the same light that Torah sheds.  You can transcend your limitations and your attachment to materialism by giving charity.

A fund has been started for the widows and orphans left behind.  Donations can be sent to Kupat Ha’Ir, Victims of Har Nof Massacre Fund №: 20159, which is earmarked for the victims of Har Nof’s tragedy.  Various funds have been started, but the Rabbanim of the neighborhood have recommended this one because they are able to provide you with an American tax-deductible receipt to those who wish them. Choose to be part of their lives at this time. After all, you are part of the family.  (Edited to add – here is an online link where you can donate – https://www.kupat.org/contribute/?source=0&fund=66.)

Post this to your friends who want to look beyond the surface.

Love always,

Tziporah<<

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Please click here to see the message from the four widows from the Har Nof attack of what they request our response be. 

With that I wish you all a peaceful Shabbos, as well a wish for perspective, hope and growth from all that the Jewish people are suffering not only in Israel but worldwide at this time.

Avivah

When I was burned in the spring, I told myself I was going to make nurturing myself my top priority and that a weekly massage would be part of that.  Well, I’m not so good at self-nurturing even when I’m trying and it took me seven months until I had my first massage last week!

After last week’s session my naturopath strongly recommended that I come back soon for another session since she noticed that I seemed restless even after the massage.

I scheduled the second session for today as a birthday gift to myself.  Massage is such an amazing way to release tensions stored up in the body.   I initiated these appointments because I’ve been feeling kind of flat lately.  It’s like each trauma that I went through in the last three years took a piece out of me and now parts of me that made me who I am aren’t active in me anymore.  I’ve been feeling like I should be actively and consciously moving towards a goal that I don’t have, and even if I did, I don’t have the energy or desire to take action on it.

The massage was once again wonderful but what was equally helpful was the conversation that preceded it.  My naturopath listened to me describing how unsettled I’ve been feeling and then said, what strikes her is that I need a lot of quiet at this time in my life.  I told her my life is very quiet now, only six kids are at home, everyone is healthy and doing well, my husband is working.  She said I don’t seem to realize that my quiet life would be very busy to most people!

She said, “Think of yourself as having been on a three year journey. What does a person look and feel like at the end of a journey?  They’re exhausted, their body aches all over and they need to rest.  You don’t recover from a three year journey in two days.  Well, you’ve just gone through three years of serious challenges and you have to give yourself time to regroup.”

Her encouragement was to make self-care my top priority and let go of the feeling that there are other things I should be doing now other than taking care of myself and my family.  It was incredibly validating, because my feeling has been that I just can’t take on anything else right now even though I think I should.  It was so validating to hear someone tell me that it’s appropriate and healthy to slow down at this point.  This is what I needed – not encouragement to believe in myself, to go for my dreams, to make something happen – but permission to take life slow, for someone to tell me that I’m not being lazy or unmotivated but that this is what I should be doing right now.

She reassured me that when the time is right, I’ll once again have the focus and direction to do the things I want to do, I’ll know what they are and move directly towards them but now isn’t the time for it.

You know, I tell others things like this regularly but somehow it’s hard to tell yourself these things even when you know they’re true.  It was much more powerful and helpful coming from her, trusting not only her life experience but someone outside of you can often see things about you much more clearly than you can.

Sometimes I look around and it seems so many people are accomplishing wonderful things – it looks like I’m staying in place while they’re moving forward.  Today I was reminded to trust life’s timing; when something is meant to happen, it will happen without having to be forced.  The perfect birthday message!

Avivah

I’ve begun learning to play the flute!  The native American flute, to be specific.  Are you wondering how I chose that?

Honestly, it’s not the first instrument that came to mind when I mentally went through a list of instruments I might be interested in.   In fact, it wasn’t anywhere on my list!

I wanted an instrument that wouldn’t be too loud, that would sound reasonably good from the beginning, something that would be relaxing and enjoyable to learn to play. That eliminated most instruments. (When I was in fourth and part of fifth grade, I played the clarinet – I still remember the well-justified jokes in my family about it sounding like a lovesick moose. :))

I love the mellow music of a saxophone but felt it would be a long, long time until I could play the kind of music I’d want to listen to.  Plus it’s loud and sounds horrible until you get decent.  I live in an apartment building and the thinking of my very sound-sensitive neighbors made this a stressful thought.

I then learned about the harp.  Just the solution I was looking for!  Soothing, relaxing, and not too loud. Yes, the harp would be just right!  I even found a used midsized harp for a reasonable sum of money – in the US.  Here in Israel, I found one used full-sized harp for 5500 shekels (over $1500). Not what I want or need to start off before I know if I’ll enjoy it or not.  Someone told me she knew someone who gives lessons and would bring a harp for the lesson, but I don’t want to be limited to playing an instrument only during lessons.

I mentioned my dilemma to dh, and he suggested I learn the native American flute.  It certainly wasn’t what I had in mind, but I didn’t want to wait months or longer until a harp at the right price came into my life to begin to play an instrument.  My mother has a couple of flutes so I called to ask her if I could borrow one.  Not only did she agree to let me borrow one, she gifted it to me!

I went online to search for tips for beginners.  I started practicing fingering right away, and within a few minutes, I loved it!  I love the resonant, meditative, soulful sound.

Something that has struck me is that this is an organic instrument and the approach to playing this is similarly organic (ie not linear/Western).  Online video instructors have said things like, “Let the music play through you, let your soul speak”.  “It’s about expressing who you are, what you do and how you do it, you’re not performing, you’re just enjoying it.  It’s just fun.  Allow it to flow.”  Of course you can use this flute to play standard music but they encourage you to find the voice of your soul before starting sheet music.

I’m just starting out and I’m finding this advice helpful.  When I close my eyes and drop any expectations of what it should sound like, I really enjoy playing.  When I don’t, I feel impatient with myself, that I need some sheet music, something to follow by the book so that there’s some guarantee that what I’m playing will sound ‘right’.  (I’m also beginning with sheet music which is a different way of playing and also nice.)

Rabbi Lazer Brody writes that the native American flute seems to be the same as the flute played in the Holy Temple.  It was described in the Talmud as a simple five or six hole flute made of bamboo, bone or wood – strikingly similar to the native American flute.

I don’t have ambitious goals – I’m picking it up when the mood strikes me and playing for as long or as little as I like.  Of course I love the idea of being able to play anything and sound amazing but I don’t need to put that kind of pressure on myself for an activity that is intended to be relaxing and enjoyable!

Avivah

Over a week ago I had the opportunity to travel with a group of women to the graves of several Jewish sages in northern Israel.  (This is an amazing blessing about living in Israel, where you can have ‘field trips’ like these!)

I went to Amuka, where many pray to merit to meet their spouses – I was at Amuka only once, when I was seventeen and praying for my own shidduch!  The drive there isn’t easy, with hairpin turns and a steep descent.  I don’t know when I’ll be able to return (or when I’ll be ready to repeat that drive!), so I took the opportunity to pray for the future spouses for all of my children (all the way down to two year old Yirmiyahu :)) and for continued marital harmony for me and my husband.

Afterwards we traveled to Tzfat to the grave of the Ari HaKadosh, and from there to Meron, to the grave of Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai.  At Meron, there were several people collecting for charity but I didn’t know they’d be there and didn’t have money ready to give.  After I finished my prayers inside, I took out money to give each of the collectors on the way out.

The last woman I gave to looked at the coins I placed in her hand and as I walked away, began yelling after me: “What am I supposed to buy with this money?  I can’t even buy flowers for the holiday with this!”  As she was yelling about my stinginess, I was thinking how much easier it is to deal with someone’s displeasure when they aren’t close to you.  I didn’t like that she was annoyed at me when I was trying to be helpful but I was able to accept that was her feeling and let of it.

This remains a lesson for myself at this particular time – to maintain an appropriate emotional distance from those who return acts of good will with hostility, to feel compassion for their troubled state rather than blaming myself for not having done enough or been enough.

Gmar chasima tova to you all – may you have a meaningful, cleansing, powerful Yom Kippur as you let go of the limitations that keep you from forgiveness of yourself and others.  May you see yourself accurately, with all of the flaws that need work and teshuva, and appreciate all the beauty and strength that you mistakenly tell yourself isn’t enough.

Avivah

I have been having the most amazing experience in the last two weeks.  Suddenly several good friends from the past who I lost touch with are popping up again into my life!  It’s uncanny.  One person would be really nice but this sudden inpouring of people who remained close to my heart even after losing touch is just incredible.

Two of these reconnections came through my ds21.  He called a couple of weeks ago and told me to guess who his new roommate is.  I guessed the son of a friend who lives in Israel who I used to be close with.  ‘No’, he said, adding in an offhanded way, ‘though he also just started at the yeshiva’!  It turns out his new roommate is the son of a good friend in Canada who he was together in gan with – in Israel – when they were both three!  His yeshiva has only 37 guys, mostly Americans, and yet the son of two friends from Israel (who used to be our immediate neighbors in a building of only four families) and another young man from Canada – and of course my son, who came from the US – all ended up together!

The next friend I lost touch with when I moved from Israel to the US about 15 years ago.  Initially we sent one another letters (remember what communication was like before cheap/free international calling and email?) but over time that petered out.  She somehow found my contact information and we enjoyed our first talk in 15 years.  She said to me, “Avivah, it doesn’t feel as if any time at all has gone by when I’m talking to you!”  It really didn’t.

Lastly is the reconnnection of a dear friend from high school/seminary.  She was with me at my stepfather’s funeral when we were both 16, she was there when my mom flew to Israel for my wedding and her luggage got left behind – she accompanied my mom to the airport to pick it up an hour before my wedding was scheduled to begin.  (In case you’re wondering, we held off the reception until they got back – it was a mad rush.)  We last saw each other when my oldest was three months old.  And now after 21 years, thanks to a picture posted by a classmate of hers on Facebook, we reconnected.  (Please daven for Chaya Raizelle bas Chana Shaina that the medical diagnosis she receives today is clear.)

When I had considered trying to get back in touch with friends, I thought maybe they wouldn’t be interested, they’d be busy – life moves on and maybe I still felt a connection but they didn’t.  But it wasn’t like that at all.  They were all as delighted to speak with me as I was to speak to them.  The connections you make when you’re younger and have more time for friendships are very difficult to duplicate as you get older and busier.

I’ve been blessed with friends who are such incredible people – they were then and they’ve only become more amazing women throughout the years.  As I listened to each of them, I kept thinking what special people they are.  I’m really, really fortunate to have people in my life who have inspired and encouraged me and during our recent conversations, they continued to do so.

I have such a deep sense of love for these friends and I’m so grateful that it was possible to for us to be in one another’s lives again after so long.   True friendships are a special gift.  Now we have to make the effort to keep the rekindled friendship going!

Avivah

Earlier this week I traveled to Jerusalem for the Temech business conference, an event geared specifically to religious women.  The organizer is one of my blog readers and I was delighted to meet her – and other blog readers- there.

I had a fantastic time connecting with so many people!  This was the best thing and worst thing about the conference – too many great people to talk to! – and I missed the last session that I wanted to sit in on because of my shmoozing.  🙂

Naturally I heard other women saying how wonderful and empowering it was, and I also heard some grumbles.  It made me think about how quick people are to complain and how slow they are to express their appreciation.

Several weeks ago I completed a repair in my building that was part of a problem for eight years.  I took on the job of building representative in the beginning of August and at that time I hired someone who located the leaks in the building and then took care of getting them fixed. The final part of the repairs was to replace the tiles that had been pulled up in the entranceway of the building before I took over.  These had been left open because they didn’t want to close up the flooring only to have to rip it up again if the pipes there were the cause of the leaks.

I spent months speaking to all the members of the building until I got a majority of people to sign that they agreed to have the entrance way repaired.  That gave me the legal backing to do the repairs.  But it still meant I had to get everyone to pay, which was very, very difficult.  This was a huge stress for me.

Someone in the building called me when I was in the hospital after I was burned and asked how she could help. I told her I was feeling very pressured that I hadn’t yet collected money from everyone, and the biggest thing she could do for me was to speak to the three people who hadn’t yet paid.  She agreed and I was very grateful for this because it took a huge weight off my head.  The only problem was that these are tough people to deal with. So this woman trying to help was brought to tears when speaking to them because the way they talk is to yell and attack you, and I was left to collect the rest of the money on my own.  (Yes, being yelled at and attacked.  Fun times.)

There were many hours put into getting this done and many, many steps involved in what could have been a very simple repair.  17 months after the floor was left broken open and nine months after I began the process of getting this repair done, I had the entrance flooring completed.  It was such a huge accomplishment that I felt like throwing myself a party.  But I mentally prepared myself to not be thanked, not for the many hours I put into getting it done, nor the end result.  That’s human nature, to comment only when something is wrong.

Good thing.  Not only was there hardly a word of thanks, but the next morning someone yelled up to me through my window – from outside – that the building was disgusting and dirty since the floor hadn’t been mopped after the repair was done!  It couldn’t be mopped after the tiling was done since it had to be left to dry overnight, but it had been thoroughly swept.   After almost a year and a half of daily looking at this eyesore and safety hazard, she couldn’t spend literally one moment to appreciate that it was fixed.

That’s how some people are, no matter what they only see what they don’t have.  Some people actually look for things to be miserable about.  This is the key to having a miserable life!  Look for everything in life that doesn’t line up for what you want and then complain to everyone you see about what a miserable life you are and how much you suffer.  Ignore everything good that happens and take it for granted as your due.

Several weeks ago I received a note from a blog reader expressing her appreciation for what I write.   I’m blessed with a high quality readership and always appreciate when readers take the time to let me know if something I’ve written has been helpful for them.  In this case, she not only wrote but took the extra effort to put a card in the mail to me from overseas!  As nice as it was for me to receive, the person writing it got just as much as I did from the act of writing and sending it.  You know what she got?

She reinforced with her action the kind of person she wants to be and the kind of life she wants to have.  Writing that card made her a more thoughtful, caring and appreciative person, and as a result she’ll have a more fulfilling and happy life.

Expressing gratitude can be hard, since it means acknowledging that someone enhanced your life in some way, which implies that you would have been lacking without it.  Also, sometimes people feel they have to notice what they don’t have because the focus on what they want will bring them more.

It doesn’t work like that.  You don’t become better by bashing yourself for being inadequate and life doesn’t hand you more goodies when you don’t notice the huge platters piled up all around you.

The more you appreciate what you have in your life, the more good will flow in.  Regardless of what you do or don’t have in your life in that moment, focusing on what you have will make you a happier person.  And being a happier person means you have a more fulfilling life.  This happens step by tiny step, every time you pause and practice gratitude in your life.

It’s that simple.

Avivah

(This post is part of the Hearth and Soul hop.)

After seven weeks of spiritual preparation, Shavuos is almost here!

My physical preparations for the holiday are similar to every year.  We have one fish meal, one meat meal, and have a dairy breakfast kiddush that includes cottage cheese, sliced cheese, flavored yogurts, butter and cheesecake.

I’ll once again be giving a class on Shavuos afternoon for women; this year I’ll be talking about some of the life lessons we can learn from the Book of Ruth (5 pm – 25 Tse’elon St.).  It’s an amazing book repleted with many levels of wisdom.  I’ll also be sharing some thoughts on Shavuos more briefly at a women’s kiddush on Shavuos morning (10 am – 36 Shizaf St.).

In past years I’ve often felt spiritually unprepared for this holiday, which is foundational to the Jewish people as a marker of the giving of the Torah thousands of years ago.  This year, I was sent an incredible growth opportunity that has helped me have my mindset in the right place.

Two months ago, boiling cosmetic wax exploded in my face, coating my entire face and neck.   The only thing I could think was, “I’m burning, I’m burning!”  When inside the ambulance they asked me to rate my pain from 1 – 10 (ten being the worst), I could hardly think through the pain to answer them.  Since I wasn’t screaming in pain I told them a 5.

When I later told my ds15 this, he was incredulous.  He said, “Mommy, 5 on the pain scale is when people are still smiling!”  If I had been able to accurately say how I was feeling, I would have said a 9; 10 was when it exploded all over my face and I have no reference for anything in my life to that pain.  But I couldn’t think through the waves of pain I was in to give an accurate number – I could hardly speak at all.  In the emergency room, I overheard someone ask my attending doctor why I hadn’t been given pain medication, and he told them my pain was only at a 5.  Later in the burn unit the nurse was shocked that I hadn’t had pain meds in the ER and told me I didn’t have to be a martyr.  I told her I wasn’t being a martyr, no one offered me any.

The pain I felt was only a small part of what I was feeling – the terror about what my face was going to look like afterwards was so high that it was even more intense than my physical pain.  I’ve shared my thoughts then to find a perspective that helped me manage that fear; now I’ll share what I did to manage the pain.

After glancing in the mirror above the sink where I was splashing my face with water to keep it cool, I saw my skin peeling away and that was terrifying.  For a moment I couldn’t breathe and my stomach dropped and I had a horrible feeling of doomed desperation.

My face felt like as if it was literally on fire – an intense heat that didn’t abate. When the ambulance crew came, I told them I needed something right away for my face, I was burning.  It took about fifteen minutes until they put wet compresses on my face.  I don’t know how I would have managed this if I hadn’t brought a soaking towel with me; this and mostly my thoughts were all that kept it bearable.

As I lay there in the ambulance, I imagined that the burning feeling was actually a cooling, soothing sensation; I pictured God placing cooling gel packs all over my face.  Along with the gel packs, I searched my mind for peaceful and pleasant images to focus on… it was hard to think …most images were too hard to hold on to through the pain.  What kept coming up were the potted plants on my porch.  I didn’t let myself focus on the pain;  I kept pushing my thoughts back to the gel pack and my plants.  This was my pain medication.

This may sound strange, but when I was burned, I had an overwhelming feeling of God swooping me up and telling me how much He loved me.  Time slowed down and things that had been agitating in my mind quieted and disappeared.  I’ve gone through other difficult things and it took a long time to see something good about them, but this time it was clear to me from the very beginning that this was sent to me for emotional healing and spiritual elevation.

My face is  healing amazingly fast.  Two weeks ago I went back to the burn specialist in Jerusalem and asked her how long it would take for my face to be totally healed.  She said that everyone is different and it’s impossible to know, and then added, “ But you,” she told me, “the change from when you were here last to how you look now is literally a miracle!” And people who saw me two weeks ago and saw me this week can’t believe the difference since then.  It’s amazing.

The burn specialist told me on my first visit that it’s inexplicable that I didn’t sustain third degree burns – she explained that wax usually penetrates an additional layer of skin.  I asked her what she attributed this to – was it because I immediately washed my face and kept it moist until I got medical help?  No, this didn’t make a difference – she said the fact that I sustained only second degree burns was “your mazal (luck)”.  If I had third degree burns, I would have been hospitalized for months and who knows what my face would look like…

And my eyes… I was wearing glasses but the force of the explosion blew wax all over one eyelid and right under both eyes  – literally all that wasn’t burned on my face were my eyes and the bridge of my nose where my glasses were resting.  When I think of life without vision and how easily I could have lost that …I can’t even think about how good God was to me without getting teary.

This experience has taught me things I needed to learn, things that I’m trying to keep in the forefront of my mind even in the day to day busy living.  It’s helped me to let go and trust God more, knowing that things that are meant to happen will happen no matter what.  That I don’t have to be afraid of the unknown because He’ll help me get through whatever is coming.  It’s helped me to fully embrace the stage of life where I am, living where I do, being who I am.  It’s helped me to nurture myself more and love myself more.  And it’s helped me to recognize what is most important in life – becoming the person that God wants me to be, through the lens of Torah.

This has been my preparation for Shavuos this year.  As I finish writing this, It’s 9 am on erev Shavuos and I haven’t yet started my cooking, my husband hasn’t yet left to do the shopping, and I haven’t yet worked out the specifics of what I’ll be giving a class on.  But inside me I feel ready for Shavuos.

Wishing you all an uplifting and meaningful Shavuos!

Avivah