Do not text me;
I will not notice,
And may ignore it
How can one hundred and forty of
unless I merely seek
and not return?
Do not leave a message
My husband and I experimented with a CSA (community-supported agriculture) this year for the first time. It was like getting a surprise box every week. In our second CSA, we pulled out something we’d never seen before.
This is the season of milestones. Labor Day marked the unofficial end of summer. Last week, I loaded my daughter onto the school bus for the start of first grade.
When people ask me what prompted me to become a rabbi, I often tell them about my love of Jewish learning, or Israel, or a desire to help, or some such noble pursuit. The truth is, what really prompted me to become a rabbi was Chuck Taylor sneakers.
Every year for 30 years, I’ve sat in a temple sanctuary on the High Holidays and watched a movie. It’s a movie only I can see – flashbacks of all the times I recall over the past 52 weeks when I didn’t measure up to the standards of my head, heart, and soul.
Last year at this season, something surprising appeared in my inbox. It was a response to a challenge:
“Describe a significant experience that has happened in the past year. How did it affect you? Are you grateful? Relieved? Resentful? Inspired?”