My Red Solo Cup Moment

I reached a milestone in my adult life tonight: I left a party early.

Ok, this might not seem like an actual thing to have emotions over, I realize. I'm a person who really enjoys parties: meeting new people, hearing different points of view, generally expanding my horizons. When you add the social lubricant of alcohol things get interesting real quick.

Truth be told, nowadays I prefer to spend my evenings being insufferably productive: doing yoga, learning something new, cleaning my apartment. However, in the spirit of the new year, I was inspired to go outside my routine and try new things. So, when a friend asked if I wanted to come out, I ignored my initial reaction of 'no' in favor of 'ok but I might want to leave inappropriately soon after we arrive." We agreed my response to her invitation was odd but fair.

After walking 23 mins longer than promised, we finally got there, me awkwardly sweating from carrying a backpack, plus pushing my bike and myself uphill. The host offered to make me a drink: my options consisting of vodka, coke zero, or a combination of the two. I declined, feeling like the only successful prodigy of Nancy Reagan's campaign in a room full of people forgoing the mixer because it was a waste of space in their cup. Then I just felt old, realizing that most people there were born after Reagan finished his presidency.

Having established I'm ok coming to a party and being a wet blanket, I looked around to see if there was anyone to strike up a conversation with. There were a bunch of guys calling each other 'bro' in one corner and talking excitedly about something, so I decide to head in the other direction and sat across from a guy thoughtfully watching fashion models walk down a runway. It was jarring for the simple reason most of my friends don't have a television in their homes anymore - either due to its pervasive effect, or the fact you can watch everything online. Hipsters and haredi people really have a lot in common.

"I really enjoy the thought-provoking storyline," I said deadpan. For some reason I thought being sarcastic would be a good way to begin my new friendship.

He smiled uncertainly and explained that it was, "For the ambiance more than the plot."

"Looking to spice up your wardrobe?"I asked with a raised eyebrow before realizing this is probably not the way to talk to a complete stranger. I instantly regretted not having a cup full of vodka instead of stupid water.

"No, I mean.." he trailed off as his eye remain transfixed at the women hypnotically walking up and down runways.

I looked around the party; it was something I would have enjoyed when I was their age. But it was more than that - I had already checked off this box in the bingo game of life. I started getting practical on myself: how much could I accomplish at a pregaming for the night when I had no intention of drinking or going bar hopping? When was the last time I pregamed for anything? What was I really doing there?

I started furiously looking at my phone in order to be engaged in something. At that point I realized if I had to look at my phone to be entertained, I might as well just leave. If I'm not there for the people, then I'm not really at the party. Not only that, but I had come so far on my journey in life, why go back to a stage that I had left in favor of loftier, more long term goals?

While having my coming-of-age moment I got a text: it was a friend inviting me to brunch in her sukkah the next morning. This is what I wanted - not necessarily more carbs, but time in the sukkah, focusing on the holiday, the spiritual. Something that wouldn't give me a hangover the next day, although perhaps another kind of regret when my skirts won't zip after the holiday season finishes.

With that, I put away my phone and picked up my bag. I said my farewells, making sure to thank the host for his tap water, and began the uphill bike ride home. I was pleasantly surprised to see that I was in much better shape than I anticipated, and was able to climb the hills with minimal distress. It was reaffirming - a timely reminder that the efforts we put in over time to work hard and get better at anything do pay off as long as you are consistent. Whether it is climbing hills on your road bike or leaving certain types of events or behaviors in your past, change is possible.

Dayeinu

Anyone who has been to a Passover seder is familiar with Dayeinu. What does this have to do with the holiday of Shavuot? Here is a post I wrote for EmunaDate about Shavuot, reprinted below. 

After 38 consecutive days of successfully remembering to count the Omer, I dropped the ball. I didn't just drop the ball, I punctured a hole in it - two nights in a row I forgot to count. I had prided myself for disconnecting from my cellphone - two whole days away from it! What I neglected to take into account is that it also meant two days away from my alarm reminding me to count. Dejected, I decided to put the whole omer counting thing behind me, and just wait for its climax, Shavuot. After a day or two, something started to gnaw at me - was it really appropriate to just give up? If we spend seven weeks counting up to the holiday, was there still something I could gain from continuing to count, even if it didn't 'count' anymore?

Shavuot means 'weeks', which would seem to imply that on this day we are celebrating the previous seven week count-up - Sefiat HaOmer. During this period the Jews in the Midbar were trying to break free from their slave mentality of the Egyptian Exile. For 49 days they worked on themselves in order to be able to receive the Torah, the wisdom within it, and really become Am Yisrael. As you'll recall from everyone's favorite Pesach Seder song, Dayeinu, it ends with "If He had brought us to Mount Sinai without giving us the Torah, it would have been enough." Every year I'm left skeptical and slightly cynical - after all the work the Jews put in to being able to receive the Torah, it would have been cool if it never happened? In addition, Rav Dessler says that receiving the Torah was not merely a one-time event. Rather, every generation receives the Torah anew. In fact, every person every hour is capable of experiencing their own Mattan Torah. I wasn't sure how to reconcile these two ideas.

Every time we put in the tiniest amount of effort to break free of these habits, we are improving ourselves just as the Jews in the desert were. Whether it's refraining from speaking gossip, passing on that extra cookie, or refraining from lighting a cigarette, we are reminding ourselves that we are in control. It is through these actions that we assert our freedom and our ability to do what is right, even if it's hard.

I finally felt like I understand what it all means. It wasn't the receiving of the Torah that was the main event, it was the effort put into being fit for receiving it. It's about the effort we put into ourselves, not just during the Sefirat HaOmer, but every day of the year. The little changes in our behavior slowly add up, until before we know it we quit smoking, lost 10 lbs, or broke free of whatever vice we were enslaved to. Now, as a non-smoker, we are different people, and as a different person we are able to appreciate the Torah in a different way - to see insights we skipped over before and to otherwise appreciate the same words with a new set of eyes.

I started to think about what it means to work on yourself in order to be fit to receive the Torah. Shavuot isn't given a specific date as other holidays are. It is simply referred to as '50 days after Pesach', further implying that these intermediary days are significant. What is it that the Jews were working on during this period? We've already said that it was to be comfortable with the idea that they were a free people, but anything that has occurred in the Torah is applicable to us today, so I started to think about what that means in modern terms. There are a million ways this could be interpreted, but I like to think it means a remembrance that we aren't slaves to our bad habits and addictions - the things we think control our lives. 

With this in mind, I resumed my count. It's not about the fact that I dropped the ball, it's about having the strength and determination to pick it back up, to keep running until I cross the finish line, even when I know that I'm out of the running (or mixing metaphors). Shavuot is about celebrating the clarity that comes when you know that you're free. With this realization, I finally got that line from Dayeinu - with this freedom it would have been enough. We didn't have to receive the Torah because we accomplished what we needed to, But that fact that we did, well I think that calls for a celebration.

Chanukkah: Stop holding yourself back

Hanukkah is the season of outward miracles. Those miracles (the oil lasting 7 days longer than it was supposed to and us winning the military fight against the Greeks) happened because we did something. This is known in Yeshivish as hishtadlut, meaning G-d helped us out because we put in some effort.

Life doesn't happen waiting for things to happen. That's how life passes you by. Existence is constantly being recreated. That means every moment is a new opportunity to do the things you've wanted to do, but for whatever reason were holding yourself back. We are ultimately the only ones who are responsible for succeeding or failing in life.

Every holiday on the Jewish calendar happens when it does because the space/time situation then has certain power, greater potential than normal. The Maccabees couldn't wait to return to serving G-d in the Beit Hamikdash. They had to start as soon as they won, and ran to the Temple. Technically, they shouldn't have lit the Menorah - it's not supposed to be lit if there isn't a continuous source of fuel, and it takes 8 days to produce the oil that can be used in the Temple. However, their desire was so pure and holy, that G-d made the oil of the Menorah last for 8 days. They took one step, and G-d did the rest.

We can all take advantage of this power, this is a gift being presented to us every year at this time. Over the next 8 days, every time you want to fall into whatever bad habit you are trying to break, if you can take the smallest step to move away from that habit, you will be amazed to see what you are actually capable of accomplishing.

I know you can do it, G-d knows you can do it. All that's missing is for you to know - and to do.

How to be a tzaddik in 2 weeks

By: Shayna Chana Hulkower

The chaggim are over. Ben Gurion airport will resemble the exodus from Egypt for the next few days as chutznikim are going back to their world. There will be a little less English on the streets of Jerusalem, and this signs advertising 'second day minayn!' are being taken down. There is one lesson I learned from my American friends that I don't want to leave me so quickly.

From the end of Elul, when people started arriving for the 'Holiday Season', I was being overwhelmed with invitations to do every fun thing Israel has to offer. I demured on most of them, reminding my friends that while they are here on vacation, I am still in regular-life mode with work and other obligations. Over the next few weeks I was so impressed with how much ground they were covering during their stay. One friend living in Baka was going to the Kotel mamash every day. She told me she realized her trip would last 40 days, a number some have said to be a segula for visiting the Kotel, and so she saw it as an opportunity to have a little extra koach in her tefillot. Meanwhile, I live a 30 min walk away and don't get there more than once a week or so. Their schedules were making me tired just listening to them.

I was impressed with their stamina, but realized that they were just trying to make the most of their time in Eretz Yisrael. It's a special place, and as someone who used to visit here, I appreciate the desire to feel like you lived every moment here. The worst feeling is getting back to the US and thinking to yourself, "I had such an opportunity and squandered it."

If we are honest with ourselves, this is really what being in Olam HaZeh is about - we're figuratively traveling to this place and are expected to make the most of the time and opportunities we are given. When it's time to return from whence we came, we don't want to be left feeling like we could have done more. There is the most obvious push to stock up on mitzvot, since that is the main determining factor in where you sit in Olam HaBah - whether you are down on the 50 yard line or up in the bleacher seats. But there's more to it than that - it's how we made the most of the opportunities we're given to grow.

We just finished a season of deep introspection, finding within ourselves a profound desire to do better for ourselves this year (Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur), followed by recognition that G-d is the source of everything and faith that all His actions are good and good for us (Sukkot), ending with great joy and love for G-d and His Torah (Shimini Atzeret/Simchat Torah). Now we return to our every day life full of this growth and potential for the year. We don't have to fall back into our old habits. We can stick with the person we've become, and want to continue to grow into, and use that as the foundation to be even greater.

But it's not going to be easy, but I think I have an idea how to get us there.

No change in a purposeful new direction is ever easy. What's really hard is not changing. Allow me to explain with an example: having been in Israel for three months as an olah chadasha, I've been struggling to speak Hebrew. Part of the struggle comes from the fact that the community I've developed is predominantly English speaking. I've met people who have been here 1, 3, 5, 20 years even, and can't have a conversation in Hebrew. Yes, they can make it, but their lives are very difficult - not being able to give directions when a stranger asks on the street or figuring out what your electric bill means. These are the things that really make life here challenging - they close doors on job opportunities and friendships that make life here so gratifying. Trying to live a life not really part of the country you live in is much harder than spending 6 months breaking your teeth to have a conversation.

Currently, we are filled with a spiritual high from the chaggim, which we can use to power us for the entire year, or at the very least until Chanukah, when we get our next big spiritual infusion (not to discount Shabbat!). The question is, how to we maintain the level we are on, once we go back to our routine? The trick is to have a manageable goal in mind. When you are goal oriented you have a much better capacity to stay focused on what you need to do, and it's easier to get back on track when you most likely will fall off the wagon. Shlomo HaMelech wrote in Proverbs (Mishlei 24:16): A tzaddik falls seven times. If super righteous people can miss the mark and still be considered tzaddikim, it can only be because they still remember their goal and are able to get back on the horse, without throwing themselves a pity party in the interim.

Here is my suggestion: pick one thing that you felt very strongly during the Aseret Yamei Teshuva you wanted to change about yourself, and commit to working on that thing for the next two weeks. Why two weeks? A number of years ago, a couple from Aish HaTorah were moving to LA to do kiruv there. They went to Rabbi Berkovitz, who was the posek of the yeshiva at the time, and asked him for advice on moving their family to a place of a different spiritual caliber than Jerusalem. He told them to make all the decisions on how they will live their life in the first two weeks (where they want to send their kids to school, what level of kashrut they will keep, etc.). This was a period where their head and heart would still be immersed in life in Israel, and they would still have access to the clarity that life presents us with here, which is not unlike us coming down from the chaggim to regular life - no matter where we are in the world.

If we can think of the next two weeks as a limited period of time where we work towards maintaining the growth that we accomplished over the past month or so, then a couple things will happen: we'll be much more likely to stay on track because we have a goal that is completely attainable, and when the two weeks are up we're much more likely to have developed the habits that are necessary to continue with this new, improved way of life.

I'm looking forward to checking back in with you on October 15th to let you know how I did, as well as hear from you. And if you fall - just know that you are a tzaddik and can get right back up. We have a special power with us right now, just waiting to lend a helping hand to get you back on your feet, and back on your path to success.

Carpe Diem Forever

By: Samantha Hulkower

I've been thinking a lot about different things I want to improve in myself. Not just because it's Elul, but because the reality of making aliyah two months ago is finally setting in. I moved to Eretz Yisrael for multiple reasons, but one of the biggest motivators was that I wanted to feel like I was actively living my life. Things were pretty great in Washington, D.C.: I had amazing friends and a strong support network, a reasonably close drive to see my family in NY (with a stylish car to get me there), a good job, a promising career in a field I really care about, and I got to bike past the White House, Washington Monument, and Jefferson Memorial on my way to work (definitely a bonus for me). However, even though everything seemed perfect on paper, I felt like I was merely existing, not truly living.

So I left that all behind for what I'd hoped to be a more meaningful life in Israel. Here I continue to be challenged to learn a new language, acclimate to a new culture, develop a new social network, and restart my career, not to mention find work to support myself in the meantime. The first month was a blur.

With the adrenaline subsiding, as things settled down into a regular routine, I heard this voice in the back of my head say, with more than a tinge of panic - this is real. Not that I want to go back, but it was a reality check: all of the things I had been planning and dreaming and striving for the past two years are finally happening. Baruch Hashem! But also - Holy Cr@p! I have to actually live up to the high expectations I set for myself. I have to struggle through the challenging situations I knew I would be putting myself in. It was easy to want those things for myself while lounging in my airy studio apartment in my happening Columbia Heights neighborhood, or waxing poetic to my friends about how I want to grow, over craftbeers at one of the hipster bars down the street. But actually living up to those things, that's a challenge.

Almost every night, before I go to sleep, I reflect on what I accomplished the day before, what I wish I did better, and what I hope to do tomorrow. Almost every night I regret not going to sleep earlier, hoping that I can still wake up early and make the most of the next day. Just today, I ended up sleeping until 10:30am and missing the 7:30am tanya class I had started going to. I was mad at myself for ruining my streak with the class. I was mad at myself for wasting the morning and didn't do the errands I had planned. I was even mad that I couldn't experience the feeling of accomplishment after doing all that I had wanted to.

Now I was stuck with a feeling of anxiety and resentment and I wasn't living up to the expectations I had set for myself. I had moved to Israel to leave my comfort zone and push myself to be the person I know I can be, and here I am, still stuck in the same bad habits. I sat down over my coffee and tried to quiet my mind. Then it came to me:

Today is the first day of the rest of my life.

I'm sure we've all heard this kind of trite tripe before. Whether at a motivational talk at work, or even on a sitcom, when the protagonists come to some glib realization before the 22 minutes are up. But today, this was different. I deeply felt that the things I want for myself can happen - and will happen. I can happen, starting right now, if I let them. We're our own worst enemy when it comes to keeping ourselves from achieving our potential. Whether it's not getting upset over little things, reducing the sugar in our diet, calling our parents more often, changing our career to what we really want to be doing with our lives - whatever it is that is keeping you from being who you know you are; you can be that person starting right now.

Today is the day.

And if you mess up, that's ok, because you've already made the decision, you're on the way. You don't have to do anything as dramatic as quit your job and move to a new hemisphere to be you. Just know that you can, and once you believe in yourself, you will.