Parshas Haazinu: The Power of Music

Akiva doesn’t use a pacifier.  He just doesn’t like it, and I don’t blame him.  It doesn’t exactly have anything yummy coming from it like when he sucks on a bottle, so what’s the point?  But I know a lot of babies do like them.  A friend recently asked me how I get him to settle to sleep if I don’t give him a pacifier.  I told her I sing to him.

You see, Akiva loves music.  He loves it if Rabbi Ben sings, he loves it if there’s music playing anywhere, and he even loves it when I sing. (Well, there’s no accounting for taste!)  Music just speaks to him, as I think it does for most of us.

Which is exactly why the Torah ends with a song.  Music lifts and inspires us. Music can change our mood. It has the power to transcend, to lift our souls closer to G-d. G-d understood that even if we had trouble connecting with His Torah, we could, at least, connect to a song.  So He gave us a song, to end the Torah and to help bring us closer to Him.

As for Akiva, well, he’s already singing.  Because I sing to him, he has started to sing himself to sleep now.  Not only does it make it easy to put him to sleep, since I can just walk away and let him sing himself to sleep, but it’s also achingly cute.  Here, have a listen:

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“>Akiva Singing

Shabbat Shalom!

Read more about Parshas Haazinu: Past, Present, and Future Are All One

Yom Kippur: Facing Your Truth

Every year I look forward to Kol Nidre.   Not with the same joyful anticipation I feel when I look forward with smiles to the delicious holiday of Shavuot, the bright lights of Chanukkah, or the partying of Purim, but with bated breath nonetheless.

On Kol Nidre I go to shul and I hide as far in the back as I can.  I bury myself in my machzor and hide my face. I make sure to have a plentiful supply of tissues secreted up my sleeve.  And I let go.  And I cry.

I hate crying in public. It seems like such a weakness, like admitting to some sort of inner failure. In Western society it is perceived as not being the strong person you’re expected to be.  But on Yom Kippur, that’s not why I hide when I cry, but rather, for the opposite reason: I don’t want people to think my tears false, attention-seeking, or holier-than-thou. I want to be left alone to cry.  The chazan’s voice, now the voice of my beloved husband, never fails to transport me to a higher plane.  It is my time to cry – alone – with Hashem.

You see, Yom Kippur is the ultimate moment when we each must really and truly face ourselves.  It is our last chance before that great Book is sealed.  It is our last chance. Our last chance.

I usually fall behind in the davening.  It’s not because I am busy crying, as I explained above, but falling behind is, in part, the reason I’m crying.  Perhaps falling behind in the davening is symbolic of how I’m constantly falling behind in my service of Hashem. I have a hard time keeping up with what Hashem expects of me. I can’t fairly judge others but in fairness, I admit that I don’t always think I keep up with the crowd when it comes to serving Hashem.  But let’s be real – I’m not crying because I’ve fallen behind in the davening and I’m not thinking deeply about the symbolic meaning behind falling behind.

I’m falling behind in my davening and I’m crying for one and the same reason: I’m facing myself and I don’t like what I see.  I read each line in viduy and I see myself in it. I make a public confession and I mean every word of it. “We have robbed” – have I failed to say hello to someone who greeted me? Have I borrowed something and not returned it? “We have slandered” – have I listened to or spoken any gossip?  ”We have lied” – even by leading someone to make an erroneous assumption. “We have given evil counsel” – have I given bad advice? Have I somehow led someone astray? Have I offered justification for bad behavior? “We have scoffed” – have I looked at another person and thought myself better than them? Have I not just thought, but even spoken, those words?

And so on and so forth.

As I recite the Yom Kippur prayers, I force myself to stop and think about every single word. I force myself to dig down into my year – indeed, my entire life – searching to find what I have done wrong. Forcing myself to stare myself in the face. My real, ugly, inner face. That face we all hide, even from ourselves, of every little hidden sin we commit. All those things we try to hide, all those things we justify. And, inevitably, I find things I wish I didn’t see. I find thoughts, words, and deeds, that I wish I hadn’t done. I see just how wrong I was and why.  And that is what makes me cry.

And when I’m done with examining myself, I examine all the other parts of myself – my fellow Jews.  Not in a judgmental kind of way, no, of course not! But, as we learned out from the recent parsha of Nitzavim, we are all responsible for our fellow Jews.  So I consider – how many sins have my fellow Jews committed that I am now responsible for? I bear the weight of responsibility for the likes of Madoff.  I bear responsibility for every crime any Jew has committed. I bear responsibility for every bite of non-kosher food that’s been swallowed. They are my sins. My murders, my rapes, my thefts, my affairs, my lies, my slander, my sins, all my sins. And when you realize the truth, the weight of all these sins, of course, of course you cry. I cry. And cry.

For Yom Kippur is not a time for mindless ritual. It is not a time to go to shul just to hear the chazan’s beautiful voice (although if Rabbi Ben is the chazan I couldn’t blame you!). It is a time to truly face ourselves. To truly take responsibility for everything we do and have done.  It is too difficult for me to handle doing this at any other time. It is too shocking, too raw.  On any other day, I am too frightened.  But on Yom Kippur, I find the courage to face myself. To face my true self, with all my flaws.

But when Yom Kippur is done and, please G-d, my teshuva (repentance) has been pure enough to be accepted by G-d, I can walk away feeling light and free. I can walk away with my head held high, renewed, rejuvenated, forgiven, for I have repented of my sins, all of them.  Like my wedding day, I walk away elated, clean and new… and loving myself, the real me, the true me: the me with all the shmutz removed.

May we all have a meaningful and moving Yom Kippur, may our teshuva be true and deep and accepted by Hashem, and may we all be written and sealed in the Book of Life for a good year.

Read more about Yom Kippur & Jonah: Talkin’ About a Revolution

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Adventuring Akiva’s First Bushwalk (Hiking with a Newborn!)

Akiva definitely takes after his father. In fact, he is probably more like Rabbi Ben than Rabbi Ben is like himself, if that’s possible!

I carried two-week old Akiva in a sling, where he was curled up and comfy just like he was still in the womb.

Adventuring Akiva went on his first bushwalk long before he could walk.  He went on a bushwalk in Middle Cove (in Sydney), Australia long before he could ever walk. In fact, he went on his first bushwalk when he was only two weeks old.  Incredible, right? Well, with Rabbi Ben you would expect nothing less!

It was a short bushwalk, the round trip only taking an hour and a half or maybe two hours with breaks.  Akiva, being a newborn, slept the entire time.  It’s actually pretty easy to hike with a newborn if you have a sling.  For a newborn, I felt more comfortable using a sling than a Baby Bjorn (and anyhow I didn’t have a Baby Bjorn yet then).  We use the Baby K’tan sling because it is pre-tied and so it is easy to put on.  Using the “cradle” or “pouch” method of tying the sling creates a pocket where the baby can curl up and feel just like he’s still in the womb.  In fact, while wearing newborn Akiva like this I have been mistaken for still being pregnant!

A sample of the terrain on Akiva's first bushwalk. The path was well-maintained and easy to walk. While carrying a newborn, you must be very careful where you step.

The only thing about hiking like this with a newborn is that you must be extra careful not to slip and fall.  Since the baby is still very fragile and no longer has the benefit of placenta and amniotic fluid to cushion it in the event of a fall, you have to really watch every single step you take.  I recommend only doing easy hikes.

Also, I found that Akiva would sleep for as long as he was in the sling and I was walking with him. Once, he slept 5 hours like that.  This sounds great, except that babies that young need to eat more frequently than that in order to get enough calories and to grow well.  Their tummies are so tiny that they cannot hold so much milk all at once.  When Akiva woke up after 5 hours in the sling, he was starving hungry and screamed until he could be fed, which took a couple of minutes!  Also, he then ate too fast and spit up a lot of what he ate, in addition to swallowing too much air.  So if you are hiking with your newborn, please make sure to take a break every three hours or so for an hour to allow your infant to eat and play a bit.

I’m sure Akiva enjoyed his first bushwalk, even if he slept through the whole thing – or maybe because he slept through the whole thing!

Adventuring Akiva’s First Flight! (Flying with a Baby – Eek!)

So this post is a couple months late but, well, what can you do? At least I’ve been consistent with my parsha posts! Rabbi Ben owes everyone some updates, too. (Hint: “Kokoda!”)

At the young age of 2 months, I took Akiva on his first flight.  Not having a passport for him yet, we could only go so far, so we flew to Brisbane.  On the flight there, he was a happy little bubba.  He nursed on takeoff and landing, which  saved his ears from hurting. As it was a morning flight and he tends to be quite happy in the morning, he slept until takeoff, played during the flight, and fell right back asleep again after we landed.

I chose not to take a pram (stroller) with us simply for convenience – I was traveling only with carryon baggage.  This made things much easier because I wasn’t shlepping so much stuff.  To simplify things, I brought only the essentials – a portable soft (and therefore light) bassinet (the Valco Baby Soft Bassinet – although I got mine secondhand and don’t have the fancy hood).  I carried Akiva in a Baby Bjorn and also brought a Baby K’tan sling with me. I used both, although initially at the airport I used the Baby Bjorn.  The sling is cloth and pre-tied and its sash converts to a carry bag, so it’s easy and convenient to bring with. It’s also much more versatile than the Baby Bjorn, as I could use it to carry Akiva in a cradle position (like a baby koala in its mommy’s pouch!).   Aside from that, I brought a few changes of clothing (we were only going for 3 days so I didn’t need too much) and some blankets/swaddles.  I didn’t bring our staple gripe water (at 2 months Akiva still had some nighttime colic and gas) or diapers, but chose instead to purchase them in Brisbane to save on shlepping.

I packed the bassinet with most of Akiva’s items and only brought one change of clothing for myself to save on space. So what if I wear the same thing twice?  That’s how we travel light! So even with bringing my camera and some extra food and toiletries, I was still able to get by with the bassinet and a small backpack, even having some extra space left over!  While I was away, my parents (who were visiting) shared the burden of shlepping Akiva around in either one carrier or the other, so that no one had to bear the burden on their own.

On the flight back, Akiva didn’t do quite as well.  It was a later afternoon flight, so he was kvetchy.  He needed a nap but just refused to sleep on the plane.  As a result, he screamed for most of the flight.  The plane was tightly packed and the one aisle narrow, so there wasn’t even enough space for me to try to walk him to sleep during the flight.  Even nursing didn’t help him. He was just plane upset (haha get it? “plane” upset!)

I was really touched by how wonderful and helpful everyone was.  I flew Virgin and on the first flight they gave me an entire row to myself so I had plenty of room to play with baby and to feed him during the flight. The pilot himself came over when it was time to disembark and insisted on carrying the bassinet full of stuff for me.  It was very special.  On the flight back, the middle seat in my row was vacant so I again had some extra room.  The businessman who had to sit on the aisle was incredibly understanding and kind, even though he kept having to move to let me in and out as I tried to settle my crying infant.

It really drives me crazy now to hear people complain about a baby crying on the plane. After being “that mom” with “that baby,” I can honestly say that I did everything I could, but if your infant wants to cry, it’s going to cry. Babies are people, too, and they have their own minds and their own ways.  Just because you’re the parent doesn’t mean you can control them (although you’d like to!). And no parent likes it when their baby is crying. If my baby is crying, it means he’s unhappy or hurt or uncomfortable… and I don’t want him to be any of those things! So if it’s possible for me to keep him happy and quiet, trust me, I will!

Anyway, that is all I really have to say about Akiva’s first trip. Traveling with a baby wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be!

Parshas Vayelech: When G-d Hides His Face

One of the cool things about travel is getting to explore other cultures.  But it’s not simply a fun and curious activity on my part – it’s also an opportunity.  It’s the chance for me to spread the idea of Judaism and of Jews in a positive light.  To do, as we say, a kiddush Hashem, a sanctification of G-d’s name by showing the world His goodness through our words and actions.

It’s impossible for me to ask questions and explore someone else’s culture without also being willing to open up about my own.  So I do, which is especially neat when the people I’m talking to are also religious and understand the concept of G-d and faith. But what about when they don’t? What if they’re agnostic or even atheist? What then?

Well, what usually happens is that you get a standard set of questions: How do you know G-d exists? Do you really believe the world was created in 7 days? A few thousand years ago? What about the dinosaurs? What about the Big Bang? Do you believe in aliens? How about evolution? Why aren’t there any prophets anymore?

There are complex theological answers to all of these questions, but the truth is that they all really have the same simple answer, and it’s found in this week’s parsha: G-d has hidden His face.  G‑d appeared to Moshe (Moses) and Yehoshua (Joshua) and told them that one day the Israelites are going to abandon G‑d and they will stray after alien gods (and yes, this includes money, the Internet, and iPads). When that happens, G‑d will hide His countenance and the Jews will face much evils and troubles.

Which is exactly what happened.  Look at our history! We used to have a Temple! We used to have prophets and kings! We used to see miracles in the Beis HaMikdash every day! And then we went astray. And now what? Now we don’t see miracles every day.  Oh, they happen, of course they do, but we don’t see them, we don’t notice them, because they are hidden.  G-d hides His face. And how does He hide it?  He makes things seem like natural occurrences.

G-d puts dinosaur bones and carbon dating into the earth to make us question its real age.  G-d creates some animals with biological similarities to ours to make us question our own inner spark of divinity.  G-d makes daily miracles seem commonplace.  G-d gives us the idea of quantum physics so we can explain away miraculous happenings.  G-d hides His face.

And so many people are fooled! So many people look at the mask of nature G-d wears and they’re completely and totally fooled.  So, to those people, we have to give long theological explanations for our beliefs.  We have to speak their language and used quantum physics and the theory of relativity to explain how the seven days of creation were really billions of years.  We have to justify ourselves over and over.

But the real truth is simply this: G-d has hidden His face, just as He said He would.

And when we wake up and realize this and notice it, we might just be able to see glimpses of Him behind his many masks.  We might start keeping the Torah better, do more mitzvot, cut down on our sins, and thereby bring moshiach.  And when we do that, then G-d will reciprocate and show us His face again.

May we all succeed in this endeavor, to bring moshiach swiftly, so we can all celebrate the upcoming Simchat Torah in Yerushalayim!

Shabbat shalom!

Read more about Parshas Vayelech: How the World Sees the Jews