Israel, my home...?

A blast of fresh air. Cold air. Frigid, New York temperature, in early December. Winter was coming on, fast and furious.

Exiting the subway steps, blending with the mass of people, Manhattan at night, the heart of New York.

The lights, the life, the sounds and smells. I stop walking, and just let it all wash over me. Feel the vibrations, the sensations. I feel like I'm living once again.

The subway filled with weirdos, and strange people, preaching, about the bible, their savior, and whatnot. The jostling, and shoving, and swearing. All part of the experience. It's MINE. It's home.

The spray paint, the garbage, the bleakness, and black. But MINE.

I look up at the sky. Snowflakes are drifting lazily down, settling in my hair, and on my coat. I open my mouth and taste the cold bits of heaven.

First snowfall of the season, and I am here for it. Home. Where I belong.

Ten glorious days, home from Seminary for my sister's wedding, I take it all in, embrace it. I've missed this! My country, my people, my language, my home-town, my friends. It's all so familiar. 

Ice skating in Bryant park, sliding, and gliding, and falling, and grabbing on to people. Broadway, and Starbucks! Christmas lights, and trees covered in snow. I almost forgot how it felt, this feeling, the holidays coming, excitement in the air.

Chanukah is around the corner. Eight days of fun, and laughter. And food. Donuts, and latkes, and chocolate coins, and real coins. Dreidel, and family parties, and trips with friends. Curled up around the Menorah, absorbing its warmth, while telling the story of the miracle of the oil that happened long ago.

But my Chanukah will not be in snow. I won't be home, because I'm going back. Back. Such a strange word.

All good things must come to an end. It's time to go back. There. 

To Israel, Eretz Yisroel. My people, my land. A place of Holiness.

Then why, instead of feeling like I'm going home, does it feel like I'm leaving, and going back? 

New York, Israel. Going home, leaving home.

Where is my home? I don't know, it's so confusing.

I cry on the plane, because I miss my family, and the fun times I had at home.

As the wheels touchdown on the holy soil of Eretz Yisroel, the land of the Jews, my people, I don't feel home. I feel lost. Disoriented. 

The life of the wandering Jew.

I'm back now. But this place still doesn't feel like home. 

I'm waiting for Moshiach, a time of completeness, when this place, these people, will feel like my home, and my family.

But until then, I'm just back. And missing home. Wherever that is.

The moshiach man

Amongst all the hustle and bustle, and jostling and shoving, that comes with a typical shopping trip to the mall, I heard it. One voice a little louder then everyone else. So familiar, it made my head turn. There he was. The moshiach man.

Typically dressed, in a black suit, white shirt, (no tie) slightly smashed up hat, he was out amongst the masses, doing his stuff.

'Moshiach! Moshiach is coming! Yehudim! Put on tefillin! Do a good deed, moshiach is coming!'

He was doing his rounds, and I was doing my shopping.

He seemed to be following me. Every store I found myself in, there he was, trying to get another Jew, and yet another, to put on tefillin, while spreading the word that yes, moshiach is coming, and we must be ready.

I had a half smile on my face, a kind of grin. It was nice to see a 'familiar' face amongst all these strangers. He was 'mine', we were part of the same family.

And yet, there he was, doing something good, helping other people, doing something the Rebbe not only asked, demanded of each of us. And what was I doing? Browsing, shopping, filling my cart with personal items for me, all about me.

I wasn't out there doing mivtzoim, giving out candles, telling everyone about moshiach, like I should have been doing. I was thinking only of me. How selfish.

So what right did I have to smile when I saw him? How could I even identify with him, while we were so different, worlds apart in our missions?

It gave me something to think about. Yes, I still get a warm feeling when I see a fellow Lubavitcher 'spreading the word', doing their stuff. Because we are one, and it makes me happy to see someone doing the right thing.

The moshiach man is somewhere out there, still doing his stuff, and sending out the call, the wake up call, for all Yidden to get ready, cuz moshiach is coming soon.

And next time I go shopping, I will try to do my part too. I will put some candles in my bag. Thats the first step. Whether or not they see the light of day (no pun intended) is yet to be decided.

But at least I can smile when I see the moshiach man again. Because we have the same mission, him and I. We are working towards the same goal.

Wake up Yidden. Moshiach is coming!

We demand moshiach NOW!!

So many promises, so many words, its hard to believe them anymore. We've waited for 5769 years, for You. We can't wait anymore. We've suffered for so long. We can't suffer anymore.

Redemption. A word so sweet, you can taste it. Victory. A time when there will be no wars, no evil, no pain. We wait for this time. Must we wait in vain?

A child waits with nose pressed to the glass for an esteemed visitor, who is coming soon. Soon to a child means now. A month is not soon, nor a week, or a day. Soon, is now.

Time passes, and still its soon.

When will he come?

Soon.

We are your children, G-d. You have promised us the redemption, soon.

When, we ask. And You tell us, soon.

How soon?

Soon, my child. Have patiance.

But we have no more patiance.

You promised us, and we got excited.

We prepared, we polished our buttons, we packed our suitcases. We collected good deeds so we'd be ready when the cloud came to get us, and bring us to the promised land.

And still we wait.

Soon.

War. people crying, dying, ripped apart, the world is filled with pain.

We turn to You, our Father, with tear filled eyes and ask, when? When will it all end?

And You answered, soon.

And we believed You.

We went down to Egypt, and suffered, hard labor, beating, they killed our children.

And we asked You, Father, when?

And You answered, soon.

We had some peace. But this was not the 'soon' You spoke of. This was temporary. An illusion.

Once again we were brought into exile. And we suffered. And we asked You, when?

And You answered, soon.

They surrounded us. They didn't want to kill us, they wanted us to destroy ourselves. And we did. Hunger. Poverty. People eating their children.

And we turned to You with pain filled eyes and ask You, when?

And You answer, soon.

Ten of the greatest leaders, burned at the stake, the sole reason being, they were Jews. They wished to serve You, to fulfill Your commandments.

And we turned to You, with the fire reflected in our eyes, and we asked You, when?

And You answer, soon.

Throughout the ages we've suffered unthinkable inflictions. At the hands of the goyim, evil knows no bounds. They didn't just want to kill our bodies. They wanted to maim our souls. But we died, for You. We gave up our souls, for You.

And we don't ask You why. We know there must be reasons. You can keep Your reasons, we have no use for them. But when, G-d, when?

Six million Jews, slaughtered, massacred, unthinkable terrors, pain, evils. At the hands of beasts, inhuman.

And throughout the fires of hell we ask You, beg of You, plead, when, G-d, when will it all end???

And You answer, soon.

We conquer our land, we wish to live there, in peace. Thats all we ask. 

But there is no peace. The enemy lives in our midst.

People blown to pieces, captured, tortured, killed, kicked out of their homes with no where to go. Only because they are Jews.

This is not true peace. There will be no peace until the world is complete. 

But when will that be? Soon, G-d, soon??

Not a day goes by without a death, or many. Good, innocent people die, for what? Children left without parents, parents burying their kids. 

Poverty, strife, fighting, wars, hate, suffering. The world is filled with suffering.

Does it not hurt You, our father, to see us suffering? Do You not cry along with us, and feel our pain?

Throughout it all, we ask You, when? When will You bring us the redemption that You've promised for so long? When will the good times come, and the evil disappear?

And You answer softly, soon, my child.

I've grown up, G-d. I am no longer a child. One time, long ago, Your answer may have appeased me. I may have been okay to hear its coming soon.

But no longer. 

I try so hard to believe, to hold on to my faith. But I can't wait any longer.

You tease us, G-d. You hold out promises in front of us and say, reach, my child. Come get it, and it will be yours.

And we do. We try. But as soon as we get close, You pull it away, just a little further.

We don't give up. Not yet. We still have the fight in us.

So we try again. We prepare ourselves, we do good deeds, we pray.

But as soon as we get close, once again, it's rudely pulled just out of our reach.

Tantalizing, taunting.

I can't play this game of Yours any longer.

There is no answer to why.

There is no answer to when.

Not soon, G-d. Now. We need it now!

We've waited too long, we refuse to wait any longer. We demand Moshiach Now!!!

Where is he?

Where are You?

When???

Love, my brother.

This article has been published in The Jewish Press

They come in many colors, shapes, and sizes. They have many similarities, and at the same time, so many differences. They look different, they act different, they speak different languages. But they have one thing in common, one interlinking thread that binds them all together.

They share the same Father, the same heritage, the same nation.

They are all Jews.

Some of them wear straimels, some wear just hats, tall or short. Some wear velvet yalmukas, some wear white, some wear kippa srugas (knitted) and some wear none at all.

They wear kappatas, jackets, white shirts, colorful. White socks, black, or bare feet.

Shaitels, snoods, falls, or no covering. Skirts, long or short, long sleeves, short sleeves, no sleeves, pants.

Two candles after marriage, one candle from age three. Arranged marriages, shidduchim, or blind dates.

Praying in English, Hebrew, so many differant ways.

Bobov, Beltzer, Breslov, Chassidish, Yeshivish, Mizrachi, Dati Leumi, Charaidi, Chilonim, Chabad.

But we are all Jews.

You may look at me, and judge me for how I dress, act, or speak. You may not understand a lot of what I do, or disagree with it. You may pass me in the street, and look down upon me, for I am different than you. We are strangers, you and I.

But we are all Jews.

We all stood together at Mt. Sinei, and received the Torah, 10 commandments, 613 mitzvos, millions of interpretations. We all declared G-d as our King, we all accepted His commandments, we all uttered the words 'Naase Venishma', together, one voice, loud and clear.

We are one.

We all camped together. Vayichan Sham Yisroel- k'ish echad b'leiv echad- one heart, one soul.

We built the Beis Hamikdash together, we went into golus together, and we were redeemed, together.

We shared joy, and pain.

We share a history, you and I.

We are one.

One family, one Father, many children. We each chose our own path, our own interpretation, our own way of serving G-d. We each believe we are right. But 'right' comes in many ways. You try to change me, because you believe you are right, and I am wrong. But in serving G-d, there is no right or wrong.

Just like siblings, we fight. At times, we may hate each other, a hate so strong, that it blinds us from the love. We forget our connection, the natural bond that we share. We judge each other, hurt each other, insult each other.

But we are one.

My brother, it is time to let go of that hate, and let the love in, let it wash away our differences.

One lamb amongst 70 wolves. One nation, so small, against the world, who wants to kill us, hate us, destroy us.

So why must we destroy ourselves? Let the world do its job.

It is time to love. To unite against the forces of evil who wish to destroy us.

We must show G-d, our Father, that we are deserving of His love, of His gift, of redemption.

Two men, so diverse in their way of serving G-d, sit and share a word of Torah.

They are bridging the gap.

A boy puts on Tefillin with someone who has never uttered a word of prayer in his life.

They are bridging the gap.

Simchas Bais Hashuava.

Chassidim, Misnagdim, Bobov, Yeshivish, Lubavitch. Linking arms, one circle, one dance.

A shliach opens his home, his heart, to a man passing through.

Doesn't matter who he is, where he came from, what he looks like.

He has a soul, he is a Jew.

Little by little, we are bridging the gap.

So many siblings, part of one big family. They may not always like each other, or get along. But they share a love so deep, a natural connection, that can never be broken.

The love gets covered up with hate, with stupidity, with foolishness. We let our differences get in the way.

It is time to uncover the love, tap into it, show it.

I love you, my brother. Believe it, accept it, cherish it.

And please, find it in your heart to love me back.

You are mine.

I am yours.

We are one.

Chabad- one family

Today I felt.... confused. So many mixed emotions. At one second, I was so happy, then the next, I was so unsure of myself. I wanted to scream for joy, and I wanted to cower under my blanket, and wish the world would go away.

I'm homesick. But not for my house. I do miss my family, but thats not why I'm homesick. I'm homesick for my home as a chossid. 770. The Rebe's home.

The funny thing is, whenever I'm in Crown Heights, I hardly ever go to 770. I stay away. But now, I yearn to be there. I yearn to feel that comforting feeling, the Rebbe's presence. I yearn to go the ohel, and connect with my Rebbe.

I was sitting in the classroom today, feeling glum. And in walked a Rabbi. I don't know him, and he doesn't know me. But I felt like hugging him, losing myself in his embrace. And no, not because I was hitting on him. Because he's the epitome of all I'm missing right now.

When I see a Rabbi with a black hat an jacket, I identify with it. They're like family, they're familiar.

I was in summer camp in Florida, and we didn't see too many frum Jews. One day, I saw a mitzva tank in the shopping center. I felt like running over to the bochurim there, and saying, 'It's me! I'm one of you! I'm lubavitch too!' But of course I didn't.

It's just a feeling you get, being part of something, something major. Right now I'm feeling a little detached from it all.

I'm homesick. I miss my family.

I think it's time for me to reconnect.

Time is slipping away... where are you?

Sometimes I feel like my life is out of control. Like I'm on a roller coaster thats going no where.

Today we had a class on time management. Ha! Do I need someone to tell me how to manage my time better? No. I just have to tell myself, Altie, get off your lazy tuchis and do what you have to do, get your life together, get a move on!

But I don't like to listen to myself.
So I sat there and I listened while the teacher lectured us on managing your time better, on controlling time, and not letting it control you, being organized, making goals for yourself, and working towards those goals, utilizing every day, minute, and hour to help you fulfill those goals.

My ears listened, but my heart did not. M y heart was screaming, 'stop! I don't want to hear it anymore! Don't tell me these kinds of things!' Cuz it hurt. It hit home. I know that I waste a lot of time, that I procrastinate, that I'm lazy and don't do half the things I should be doing, and don't motivate myself to do new things I've always wanted to do. I know all these things, and more. And the truth hurts.

The teacher likes to ask us, 'are you here now?' Meaning, you may be physically here, but are you really here? Is your mind and heart listening along with your ears?
I can't answer that question, cuz a lot of the time the answer to the 1st here (physically) is a no. I come late to class, or I don't go at all. I'm here, but I'm not here.
Once in a while I'll wake up and realize, my life is slipping away, minute by minute, and I'm wasting my time. What am I gonna have to show for my years here on this earth? And thats the scariest thought.

This is my last year of structured learning, being part of an enviromant, where they give it all to you. After this year, it's all up to me, whether I want to learn, or go to a farbrengin, or do half the stuff I do now cuz I feel that I have to.

I am not taking advantage of it now, I'm wasting my time, and there wont be a later.
'Time is the present, slipping away, and the future becoming the present.' Scary.
It's kind of like asking yourself, Ayeka? Where are you in life, and where are you going? What are you doing to get there? It's something to think about. Every person needs this once in a while, a wake up call, to examine their life, and reevaluate.

This was my wake-up call.
Will I practice what I preach?
Thats the real test.

Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket...

Tonight I saw a shooting star.

I lay on the ground under the night sky, deep black, with twinkling stars and constellations surrounding a glowing, silvery moon. I lay there, and I thought. About many things.

I thought about where I am in life, where I want to be, and how far apart those two places are. I looked up at the sky and I spoke to G-d.

I told Him how hard it is to be a Jew, with all our commandments and obligations, how hard it is to do the right thing in a world where there is no 'right' and 'wrong'. I asked Him to love me even though I don't do everything I should do, and I asked Him to help me in my Avoda.

I wanted to cry. I wanted that refreshing feeling you get after a good cry, when all your emotions are cleaned up, and you feel ready to face the future. But my eyes were dry.

Then I started to sing. I sang a Niggun, because my Neshama always feels connected to that. My eyes started tearing, and my voice choked up.

Then I sang my favorite song. I don't even know all the words, I know just the main paragraph, but that's enough. It goes like this:

If only we could see You now,

Adaink tzum aich, we'd say somehow,

we want so much to make you proud,

Tatte we all cry aloud!

A Chossid I am proud to be,

Thanks for all You've given me,

Rebbe, your children need you now!

I sang the song, and I cried.

Because I can't see the Rebbe whom we love so much, because all I have to go by is stories, other peoples memories, videos, and pictures.

 Because I  wasn't by a farbrengin, never heard words from the Rebbe's mouth, because I'm forced to learn the Rebbe's wisdom from a book, instead of from the Rebbe himself.

Because I never went to a yechidus, because I never received a dollar from his holy hand, because I never felt his piercing blue eyes staring through my soul.

I cried and I asked the Rebbe where He is, why he isn't here when I need him. I looked up at the black velvety sky, so vast and empty, and that's when I saw it. A brilliant light shooting across the sky. My shooting star.

And that's when I knew, that the Rebbe is here with us, every step of the way. That he never left us, and never will. That at times we may feel alone, but we just have to call out, to ask the Rebbe for help, and he'll be there for us.

And that was the most comforting feeling.

I know my Hiskashrus needs a lot of work. But now I know that the Rebbe is here, watching over me, and he listens when I call.

I look up at the night sky, and I see my shooting star. And I know.

No mind games

www.guba.com/watch/3000097498   (Derren Brown: The heist)

13 people. Good, standing, upright citizens. Obeyed the law, payed their taxes, would never even think of committing a crime. And they were all British. (If that doesn't say something about their characters, I don't know what does.) 

One man, on a mission. To persuade these people to commit an armed robbery, to steal 100,000 pounds. Would they do it?

It was narrowed down to 4 people. The results: 3 out of the 4 held up a toy gun, told the man to get down on the ground, grabbed the money, and ran. Normal behavior?

They were not hypnotized. In the words of Derren Brown, "hypnosis doesn't exist. It just works on peoples natural suggestibility, their expectations and capacity to unconsciously role play."

This is mind control. It's not telling someone what to do. It's suggesting it, so that the person himself will make a conscience decision to do it.

A man from 'Yad LeAchim' came to talk to us about their organization. They do many things, among them, they help families who were targeted (and 'converted') by missionaries. The man used this film to show us how it works. 

If a missionary just walked up to someone and said, 'hey, wanna become christian?' it wouldn't work. So they use mind control on people. Specifically through videos and reading material that contain hidden pictures, and this stuff 'suggests' the message of conversion, until the person himself actually makes the decision to convert.

The man said something that gave me food for thought. There is mind control in our day and age. It's so easy to say, 'ha! brainwashing, hypnosis, mind control? That stuff will never effect me!' But in fact it does. The media, the fasion industry, friends. 

If the world says red shirts are 'in', and you run out and buy 10 of them, you are falling for a certain form of mind control. 

If your 'friend' looks down upon you for only listening to Jewish music, and you stop because of what she says, you are letting her control you.

It's not easy. Especially today, living in a world that we do, we are very succeptable to all forms of outside influences, peer pressure, etc. We find ourselves making decisions, not necessarily good ones, that we would never have made if not for what that person said, or what I read in that magazine.

So what's the solution? To live on a little island, with no billboards, magazines, people who will negitivly effect you? Obviously not, otherwise G-d would have created a little island for each of us. (That would have been cool, to live on my own little island. How peaceful...)

G-d put us in this world, with all these temptations, and bad influences all around us so we should fight it. So we should stand above the world, and do the right thing, in the face of all this evil.

Before you make a decision, think. Am I doing this because it's what I want, because I think it's right, and I'm following G-d's command? Or am I doing it because someone else said it's right? Think about it.

It's not easy. But then again, who ever said it was supposed to be easy?

Ben Yehuda on Motzei Shabbat...

Well it wasn't motzei shabbos. (we're not allowed to be there then.) It was friday afternoon, and this was my 1st visit to the infamous 'Ben Yehuda street.'

It took me all of 2 glances up and down the street to realize this place was waaay overrated, and not a place I wanted to hang out. It looked like a market place. Like one of those town squares in all those olden day movies, where the villigers come to hang out and have a good time.

 Only, these weren't villagers. They were Frum teenagers, mostly Americans, Yeshiva boys, and seminary girls, all hanging out and having a good time.

It would have been one thing if there were little groups of boys and girls, seperate from eachother. But they had to mingle. I saw them holding hands, hugging, girls were screaching when they saw their friends (cuz they havnt seen eachother for one whole week.)

I hate bluefringe. But sadly, this was exactly as their song, 'flippin out', described it. And it made me sad.

I sat at a table with my friends, wishing I was miles away from this place. Behind me, there were 2 guys sitting together. (yeshivish guys.) One was on his phone, he sounded upset, and his closing line in the conversation was, 'this time I'm hanging up on you first!'. And he slammed down the phone. (I sadly assumed he was talking to his girlfriend.)

I looked at my friend, and sort of laughed. I pitied him, for his lifestyle, for the choices he made.

A girl walked over to their table, said hi to one of the guys, seemed happy to see him. She openedher arms wide, for a hug, and he seemed kind of hesitant. 'Aren't you like, shomer?' he asked her. 'Oh no, that was a long time ago, and only for a day.' she answered him. And they gave eachother a big hug.

I looked at my friend with a sad look on my face. I told her what I thought. I think it's one thing if it's a girlfriend-boyfriend relationship. According to the world, you're not worth much if you don't have one. But at least thats a relationship that G-d intended there to be. That a boy and girl should have feelings for eachother, and want to touch, thats natural. It makes sense.

But the whole concept now of, 'guy friends, female friends', is so sad, and wrong. You're taking a holy sacred relationship, that G-d intended for men and women, and turning into a 'mwa mwa' type of relationship. I see my friends, and I hug them. I'm happy to see them. But if all of a sudden guys are equal to your female friends, if they also get a hug every time you see them, then what will be when you have a real boyfriend, a real reltionship with a guy, like G-d intended? It will be down the grabage, thats where.

The guys behind me heard what I was saying, and they didnt look too pleased at being told off. They looked like they might try to argue my point, but I just got up and walked away. (I dont like when people try to tell me I'm wrong, plus, I wasn't interested in talking to the subject of my displeasure.)

So that was my visit to Ben Yehuda street. I've been there one time since then, but only cuz my friend dragged me along with her. It's not a place I want to be seen, or associated with.

Theres a big picture of the Rebbe which hangs on Ben Yehuda street, and overlooks all that is going on. I find it sad that the Rebbe has to see all this shmutz.

I pray every day for Moshiach, and no more foolishness on Ben Yehuda street.

Shabbos in Tsfas

It was freezing! My toes, in the cute sandels i chose for that day, were numb. My fleece sweater wasn't enough to shield me from the biting wind. So THIS was tsfas.

I was so excited, cuz my principal let me go on thrusday night, even though we're usually supposed to go in Friday. (We made a deal that I'd have to be on time to class every day, something I'm still struggling with.)

I breathed in deeply, savoring the cool mountain air. I was looking forward to this shabbos. I was not dissapointed.

The farbrangins were amazing! One was in hebrew, so I didnt understand everything.
Friday night I ate by the Friedman family, and Rabbi Friedman farbranged after the meal. He had so many stories to tell, so many interesting ideas. We discussed Ahavas Yisroel. To what extent do you have to love your fellow Jew, how do you know if its really love, or someone using you, etc. He told a really nice story.

It was almost time for davening in 770, and a man was standing directly in the path where the Rebbe was supposed to be walking. The gabbeim tried to get him to move, but he wouldn't budge. they pushed, they shoved, they yelled at him, even through his hat.

 But he held onto the table, and said he had something very important to ask the Rebbe. Suddenly, the Rebbe was there. He saw what was going on and said, leave the man alone. Let him ask his question. Afterwards, everyone found out, that his request was not for him, but for a friend of his, for a bracha for a child. He had such mesiras nefesh, and stood firm in the face of adversity, just for another Jew.

On the other hand, if somone comes over to you in shul during davening, and wants to chat, to talk when your not supposed to, cuz you dont want to 'hurt' him, is wrong. Theres a time and place for everything. that would not be ahavas yisroel, that would be stupidity.

I stayed up till 5 am talking to my friend, and ate by the Chitriks shabbos day. It was a really nice meal.

We had another farbrengin with Rabbi Tzeitlan. It was about a lot of things, but the main point was, don't just sit there thinking about your midos, and how you have to change them. Just DO! thats the main thing. Go on mivtzoim, learn a sicha, give Tzedaka. THAT will change your midos, not contimplation. He also spoke about simcha, and being happy even when you feel you can't. That point hit home, cuz I find it so hard to be b'simcha sometimes.

All in all it was a very inspiring uplifting shabbos.

I returned motzei shabbos to my dorm, on such a high, and boom. I dropped. I got depressed, I wanted to go back to Tsfas. All my good intentions I had were in the garbage.
So did shabbos mae any differance in me? was i a changed person because of it? I could have been, but i wasn't. It WAS an amazing shabbos, but because I didn't do anything about it, nothing was differant. I wasn't differant.

Yesterday was the 7th of Cheshvan. Thats when we start praying for rain (in Israel) and Tishrai is truly over. I asked myself honestly, did I use Tishrai to its fullest? Did it make a change in me? Will my year be any differant than last year?

No. And thats the saddest part. I stood before G-d on Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, begging Him for forgiveness, praying for blessings for the coming year. But I made no resolution to change, to be better.

So even though Tishrai is over and behind us, I'm still stuck there. I can't move on until I do a little soul searching, and make some good resolutions for the coming year.

I think its time for a call to my mashpia.

Wall of Stone

Standing in a sea of people,
in front of a wall of stone,
I feel ashamed.

All around me, there are people praying, crying,
feeling close to g-d.
and I stand here, in the midst of hundreds of people,
And I feel nothing.

My eyes are dry,
my mind if blank,
I dont know what to feel.

Someone in front of me weeps softly,
and I feel like crying,
because I feel nothing,
towards this wall of stone.

And suddenly, it hits me.
An emotion. I identify it and realize,
I'm angry.
Angry at G-d.

Why must i stand here,
in front of a wall of stone,
when we could be standing by the holy temple,
with G-d Himself?

Why are we still in golus?
people dying, suffering,
praying to a wall of stone.

We don't want stone.
We want G-d
We want Moshiach!

So I stand here,
angry at G-d,
and I cry.

I cry for the destruction of the tenple,
I cry for the horrible golus we're in,
and for all the pain and suffering there is on this earth.

And i ask G-d why??
When will it all end?
We need Moshiach already!

The sky is filled with clouds,
and the wind blows softly,
but G-d is silent.
He doesn't aswer me.

G-d and Facebook

I changed my relationship status on facebook. I wrote I was 'looking for a relationship'. (who isn't?) For some reason, it was posted as, 'In a relationship.' And also that, 'its complicated.'

My friends got a little worried at this. They wanted to know if something was going on that I didn't tell them. No, I'm not in a relationship. At least not the kind they were suspecting. So as a joke I wrote, I'm in a relationship with G-d, and it is complicated. (Facebook didn't let me say who I had a relationship with, cuz I guess G-d doesn't have facebook. Wonder of wonders.)

My relationship with G-d is very complicated. Its painful at times, its confusing, sometimes it seems its non-existent. But its always there, we can never disconnect from G-d, no matter how hard we try.

And just like all relationships, you have to work on it. That's the most annoying part. There's no such thing as 'I love you', and all is good. (I try it on my father, and his first question is, how much money do you want.)

I think about G-d every day. When things go wrong, its 'Oh G-d, what now?' And when I ask for help and don't see it, I say, 'c'mon G-d, you can do better than that.'

Who's the giver, and who's the receiver in this relationship?

I woke up this morning, and said hi to G-d.

We have a good relationship, Him and I.

or so I think.

I ask Him to help me find something, and there it is.

I ask Him for a break from school, and the teacher doesn't show up.

But is that a relationship? I ask, You answer.

You give, I take.

Seems one sided to me.

What am I giving back?

What is G-d gaining out of all of this?

Well I daven every day. Sometimes, even three. But is that enough?

Will anything I do, anything I can possibly give to G-d,

ever be enough?

In my mind the answer is no.

How could I, little me, tiny, minuscule,

non-existent in the eyes of G-d, possibly even try to give Him something back?

Compared to all that He gives me, I have nothing to offer.

He gives me health, family, friends, the ability to love and be loved, brains, and soooo much more.

Without all that G-d gives me, and does for me, I wouldn't be here. I wouldn't exist.

G-d, in His kindness, grants me life. He gives me the opportunity to try to repay Him in some small way. So I should take the chance.

I don't have much to offer Him. But He doesn't seem to need that much.

I can repay Him by doing all that He asks of me. Following the Torah, doing mitzvos, davening, loving every Jew, etc etc.

And maybe in some small way, some VERY small way, I can thank Him for all that He's done for me.

So do we really have a good relationship, G-d and I?

It's a question with no answer. Something that has to be asked every day, and may never be clarified.

I think I'll leave my facebook status to just that:

'In a relation. It's complicated'

Changing the world, one step at a time

Rome wasn't built in a day. And neither was the world. G-d created the world in seven days, and it took us all of 5768 years to destroy it. Pretty much right from the start. The world was created perfect, but Man was not. Scratch that. Man was created perfect, but along came a little snake...you know the rest of the story. So now we have this evil inclination that tells us to do bad things and destroy this beautiful world that we live in.

If I was in a righteous mood I'd be saying things like, 'the world is really good, it's just hidden, and it's our job to reveal the good in everything. Truthfully, the world is good. Cuz G-d created it, and G-d, in His infinite kindness, is good. But I dont see it. I want to, i really do. I wish I could be like G-d and see the good in everything, see the reason, and potential, in the world.

But i don't. I see bad. A self-destructive world.

I'm trying to change that. Little by little, I'm trying to see the good in everything. And thats our job here in this world. To change the bad over to good. To change the world, one step at a time. Simple, right? Must be, cuz G-d doesn't give a man a burden that he can't handle. So now i know my purpose here. To change the world.

I love to write. Thats why i started this blog. And in my own way, maybe this is my contribution to the world. Maybe someday, someone will read what i wrote and get inspired. And in turn, they too will do something to change the world. Like i said, one step at a time.

Today I'm going to smile when i feel like frowning. Today I'm going to be happy instead of being upset.

I am changing the world.

One step at a time.