Let Go of the Mouse

This is one of my favorite aish articles. I posted it before and wanted to share it with you again.

Let Go of the Mouse by Sara Yoheved Rigler

An antidote for control freaks.

Obeying Microsoft's recommendations can lead to catastrophe. That's what happened to me when I innocently clicked on "Yes" in the window that recommended condensing my emails in order to save space on my hard disk. Some 20 minutes later, the job was done -- and my last month and a half of emails had disappeared.

"Don't panic," I told myself. "They must be in there somewhere." But as the specter of dozens of red-flagged emails that direly needed replies began to haunt me, I became increasingly agitated. A frantic 45 seconds later, I called Microsoft Israel's technical support.

Yaniv was reassuring. "Don't worry," he calmed me. "They're in the Recycle Bin on your desktop." Lo and behold, they were! But how to get them back into my Outlook Express?

"Well, it's a little complicated," Yaniv said. "I don't think you'll be able to do it on your own. Are you willing to share control of your computer with me until we solve the problem?"

A person drowning in cyberspace will agree to anything. "Yes, Yes!" I promised.

The first thing he had me do was download the program, "Microsoft Easy Assist." Then a window appeared asking if I was willing to share control of my computer with a Microsoft technical support assistant. "Yes," I clicked emphatically.

A small blue box appeared in the lower right hand corner of my screen. It asked the same question again. Apparently relinquishing control is not so easy for some people. "It's okay, Yaniv," I told him on the phone. "I trust you." I clicked, "Yes," and the little blue box switched messages. Now it assured me that at any time I wanted to withdraw control from the technical support assistant, all I had to do was click the appropriate box. "Why would I want to do that?" I wondered. "He's helping me do what I could never do by myself. I guess some people really have control issues."

"Okay, are you ready?" Yaniv asked.

"Yes."

"Now let go of the mouse."

"Excuse me?"

"Let go of the mouse. I'm going to control your mouse."

Let go of my mouse? I sat there with my hand frozen on my trusty mouse.

"If you want me to restore your emails," Yaniv explained patiently, "You have to let me control your mouse."

I let go.

Like some preternatural Ouija board, my pointer started to move by itself. I was doing nothing. He was doing everything.

Then, like some preternatural Ouija board, my pointer started to move by itself. With my hands tightly folded on my lap and my eyes wide, I saw the pointer moving rapidly and clicking. Every move was accompanied by Yaniv's first-person plural declarations, "Now, we'll click here. Now we'll open up this window. Now we'll right click on this." It was a royal "we." I was doing nothing. He was doing everything.

Ten minutes later the phantom emails were sitting pertly back in my Outlook Express. Yaniv told me to click on the little blue box withdrawing permission for him to control my computer. I did so reluctantly. Obviously, he knew how to run my computer better than I did.

LET GO AND LET GOD

While some of us are worse control freaks than others, all of us resist relinquishing control of our lives to God. We human beings have been in competition with the Almighty ever since Adam and Eve were seduced into eating the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge by the enticement: "You will become like gods."

What's wrong with wanting to control your own life rather than letting God be God?

First of all, thinking that you are in ultimate control of everything that happens to you, which is the same as thinking that you are God, is crazier than thinking that you're Napoleon. This delusion bumps up against reality every time that you get stuck in an unexpected traffic jam, or your flight is delayed three hours (causing you to miss your connection), or you get sick on a day when you simply can't afford to miss work.

The best damage control is to realize that you are not in control, like the sign that hung in my bedroom three decades ago: "LET GO AND LET GOD." If you don't surrender control, you will still be sitting on the runway as the hours tick by, but your blood pressure will be catapulting to dangerous levels and you may find yourself shouting at the stewardess or making vain threats never to fly that airline again, even though it's the only one that flies to Xanpliwey.

The day after my Microsoft lesson in letting go, I found myself in an unpalatable position. I had agreed to deliver a welcome basket to an important family arriving in Israel to study Judaism. My assignment was to take a taxi to the neighborhood where they would be staying and to visit with them for fifteen minutes to make them feel comfortable. They were due to arrive on a Friday afternoon. On Thursday I carefully shopped for the perfect assortment of fruit, salads, sushi, chocolates, plus junk food for the children. Then I found the ideal basket. With meticulous care, I arranged each item in the basket.

On Friday at noon, I started phoning the two cell numbers I had been given. They were not turned on. With mounting dismay, as the onset of Shabbat drew nearer and nearer, I kept dialing the numbers, to no avail. My teenage son suggested that I just go and drop off the basket, whether or not they were there, but I responded that the whole point was for me to visit with them. My daughter suggested that maybe they had arrived early in the morning and had turned off their cell phones because they were now sleeping, so I should just go and ring their doorbell. That would be even worse, I pointed out. I'm supposed to make a favorable impression and instead I should annoy them by waking them up?

At 4 o'clock their phones were still turned off. Finally, in desperation, I called a taxi and went. As I sat in the cab in a state of heightened anxiety -- What if they're not there? What if I wake them up? -- I suddenly heard Yaniv's voice: "Let go of the mouse."

I had done everything I could do, and now I was no longer in control.

With a jolt I realized: I had done everything I could do, and now I was no longer in control. God runs the world. It will be the way He wants it. I let go of the mouse, and relaxed.

When I got to the address, I found the landlord watering the garden. I asked for the family who was supposed to be staying upstairs. He informed me that their flight had been rerouted, and they would be arriving in Jerusalem only minutes before Shabbat. He let me into the apartment to drop off my basket and refrigerate the sushi and salads. I left my card with a message of greeting, resolving to call them after Shabbat. And that was that. It didn't work out the way I had planned; it worked out the way God had planned. And who knows which scenario was ultimately better? By letting go of the mouse, I returned home relaxed and content, instead of frustrated and vexed.

THE BETTER CONTROLLER

The second reason to let God be God is that He does a better job of it than we would. Just as relinquishing control of the mouse to Yaniv had yielded a better result than my trying to solve the problem, sometimes we are afforded a glimpse of how God is more qualified than we are to run the world.

Jerusalem resident Hedy Kleiman was visiting her father in Toronto for two weeks. Her father had been chronically ill with kidney disease for eight years. With both of his children living in Israel, he had been well taken care of by his wife. Since her mother's death nine months before, however, Hedy had flown to Toronto twice to help her father. This time she found him weaker than before, but stable.

On Tuesday night she was scheduled to fly home to Israel. At noon on Tuesday the phone rang. It was El Al calling for Hedy. "How did you get my number in Toronto?" Hedy asked, perplexed. The El Al clerk said she had called Hedy's number in Jerusalem, and her son had supplied the Toronto number. El Al was calling to ask Hedy to agree to be bumped from her flight that night. In exchange, El Al would give her a reservation for Thursday night plus a free ticket Tel Aviv-Toronto.

Hedy was nonplussed. She had five children at home to take care of, as well as a job that had already given her more than her share of vacation time. On the other hand, she thought, a free ticket would enable her to return to Toronto for her mother's yahrzeit in April. And why, she wondered uneasily, had El Al selected her, out of hundreds of passengers, to be bumped?

"First of all," responded Hedy, "I can't fly Thursday night. The plane would land on Friday too close to Shabbat. What about Saturday night?"

"Saturday night is solidly booked. The best we can do is give you a reservation for Sunday night."

"I can't decide without speaking to my husband and my boss at work," Heddy waffled, "I'll call you back."

"No, we'll call you back," the El Al clerk insisted. "How many minutes do you need?"

"Ten," Hedy answered. She couldn't reach her husband (who told her later that he would have advised against it), but her boss okayed the extra days. When the El Al clerk called back with uncharacteristic promptness, Hedy agreed to be bumped and fly on Sunday night instead.

Late Saturday night, Hedy's father suddenly felt sick and asked her to call an ambulance. By Sunday morning, he had lost consciousness. Hedy recited "Shema Yisrael" and the traditional "Vidui" [confession] for him. At 11:30 Sunday morning, he died. Thanks to her celestial travel agent, his beloved daughter was at his side.

For Sara Yoheved Rigler’s Spring Tour schedule or to order her new book God Winked, visit her website, www.sararigler.com.

Let Go of the Mouse

This is one of my favorite aish articles.

Let Go of the Mouse by Sara Yoheved Rigler

An antidote for control freaks.


Obeying Microsoft's recommendations can lead to catastrophe. That's what happened to me when I innocently clicked on "Yes" in the window that recommended condensing my emails in order to save space on my hard disk. Some 20 minutes later, the job was done -- and my last month and a half of emails had disappeared.

"Don't panic," I told myself. "They must be in there somewhere." But as the specter of dozens of red-flagged emails that direly needed replies began to haunt me, I became increasingly agitated. A frantic 45 seconds later, I called Microsoft Israel's technical support.

Yaniv was reassuring. "Don't worry," he calmed me. "They're in the Recycle Bin on your desktop." Lo and behold, they were! But how to get them back into my Outlook Express?

"Well, it's a little complicated," Yaniv said. "I don't think you'll be able to do it on your own. Are you willing to share control of your computer with me until we solve the problem?"

A person drowning in cyberspace will agree to anything. "Yes, Yes!" I promised.

The first thing he had me do was download the program, "Microsoft Easy Assist." Then a window appeared asking if I was willing to share control of my computer with a Microsoft technical support assistant. "Yes," I clicked emphatically.

A small blue box appeared in the lower right hand corner of my screen. It asked the same question again. Apparently relinquishing control is not so easy for some people. "It's okay, Yaniv," I told him on the phone. "I trust you." I clicked, "Yes," and the little blue box switched messages. Now it assured me that at any time I wanted to withdraw control from the technical support assistant, all I had to do was click the appropriate box. "Why would I want to do that?" I wondered. "He's helping me do what I could never do by myself. I guess some people really have control issues."

"Okay, are you ready?" Yaniv asked.

"Yes."

"Now let go of the mouse."

"Excuse me?"

"Let go of the mouse. I'm going to control your mouse."

Let go of my mouse? I sat there with my hand frozen on my trusty mouse.

"If you want me to restore your emails," Yaniv explained patiently, "You have to let me control your mouse."

I let go.

Like some preternatural Ouija board, my pointer started to move by itself. I was doing nothing. He was doing everything.

Then, like some preternatural Ouija board, my pointer started to move by itself. With my hands tightly folded on my lap and my eyes wide, I saw the pointer moving rapidly and clicking. Every move was accompanied by Yaniv's first-person plural declarations, "Now, we'll click here. Now we'll open up this window. Now we'll right click on this." It was a royal "we." I was doing nothing. He was doing everything.

Ten minutes later the phantom emails were sitting pertly back in my Outlook Express. Yaniv told me to click on the little blue box withdrawing permission for him to control my computer. I did so reluctantly. Obviously, he knew how to run my computer better than I did.

LET GO AND LET GOD

While some of us are worse control freaks than others, all of us resist relinquishing control of our lives to God. We human beings have been in competition with the Almighty ever since Adam and Eve were seduced into eating the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge by the enticement: "You will become like gods."

What's wrong with wanting to control your own life rather than letting God be God?

First of all, thinking that you are in ultimate control of everything that happens to you, which is the same as thinking that you are God, is crazier than thinking that you're Napoleon. This delusion bumps up against reality every time that you get stuck in an unexpected traffic jam, or your flight is delayed three hours (causing you to miss your connection), or you get sick on a day when you simply can't afford to miss work.

The best damage control is to realize that you are not in control, like the sign that hung in my bedroom three decades ago: "LET GO AND LET GOD." If you don't surrender control, you will still be sitting on the runway as the hours tick by, but your blood pressure will be catapulting to dangerous levels and you may find yourself shouting at the stewardess or making vain threats never to fly that airline again, even though it's the only one that flies to Xanpliwey.

The day after my Microsoft lesson in letting go, I found myself in an unpalatable position. I had agreed to deliver a welcome basket to an important family arriving in Israel to study Judaism. My assignment was to take a taxi to the neighborhood where they would be staying and to visit with them for fifteen minutes to make them feel comfortable. They were due to arrive on a Friday afternoon. On Thursday I carefully shopped for the perfect assortment of fruit, salads, sushi, chocolates, plus junk food for the children. Then I found the ideal basket. With meticulous care, I arranged each item in the basket.

On Friday at noon, I started phoning the two cell numbers I had been given. They were not turned on. With mounting dismay, as the onset of Shabbat drew nearer and nearer, I kept dialing the numbers, to no avail. My teenage son suggested that I just go and drop off the basket, whether or not they were there, but I responded that the whole point was for me to visit with them. My daughter suggested that maybe they had arrived early in the morning and had turned off their cell phones because they were now sleeping, so I should just go and ring their doorbell. That would be even worse, I pointed out. I'm supposed to make a favorable impression and instead I should annoy them by waking them up?

At 4 o'clock their phones were still turned off. Finally, in desperation, I called a taxi and went. As I sat in the cab in a state of heightened anxiety -- What if they're not there? What if I wake them up? -- I suddenly heard Yaniv's voice: "Let go of the mouse."

I had done everything I could do, and now I was no longer in control.

With a jolt I realized: I had done everything I could do, and now I was no longer in control. God runs the world. It will be the way He wants it. I let go of the mouse, and relaxed.

When I got to the address, I found the landlord watering the garden. I asked for the family who was supposed to be staying upstairs. He informed me that their flight had been rerouted, and they would be arriving in Jerusalem only minutes before Shabbat. He let me into the apartment to drop off my basket and refrigerate the sushi and salads. I left my card with a message of greeting, resolving to call them after Shabbat. And that was that. It didn't work out the way I had planned; it worked out the way God had planned. And who knows which scenario was ultimately better? By letting go of the mouse, I returned home relaxed and content, instead of frustrated and vexed.

THE BETTER CONTROLLER

The second reason to let God be God is that He does a better job of it than we would. Just as relinquishing control of the mouse to Yaniv had yielded a better result than my trying to solve the problem, sometimes we are afforded a glimpse of how God is more qualified than we are to run the world.

Jerusalem resident Hedy Kleiman was visiting her father in Toronto for two weeks. Her father had been chronically ill with kidney disease for eight years. With both of his children living in Israel, he had been well taken care of by his wife. Since her mother's death nine months before, however, Hedy had flown to Toronto twice to help her father. This time she found him weaker than before, but stable.

On Tuesday night she was scheduled to fly home to Israel. At noon on Tuesday the phone rang. It was El Al calling for Hedy. "How did you get my number in Toronto?" Hedy asked, perplexed. The El Al clerk said she had called Hedy's number in Jerusalem, and her son had supplied the Toronto number. El Al was calling to ask Hedy to agree to be bumped from her flight that night. In exchange, El Al would give her a reservation for Thursday night plus a free ticket Tel Aviv-Toronto.

Hedy was nonplussed. She had five children at home to take care of, as well as a job that had already given her more than her share of vacation time. On the other hand, she thought, a free ticket would enable her to return to Toronto for her mother's yahrzeit in April. And why, she wondered uneasily, had El Al selected her, out of hundreds of passengers, to be bumped?

"First of all," responded Hedy, "I can't fly Thursday night. The plane would land on Friday too close to Shabbat. What about Saturday night?"

"Saturday night is solidly booked. The best we can do is give you a reservation for Sunday night."

"I can't decide without speaking to my husband and my boss at work," Heddy waffled, "I'll call you back."

"No, we'll call you back," the El Al clerk insisted. "How many minutes do you need?"

"Ten," Hedy answered. She couldn't reach her husband (who told her later that he would have advised against it), but her boss okayed the extra days. When the El Al clerk called back with uncharacteristic promptness, Hedy agreed to be bumped and fly on Sunday night instead.

Late Saturday night, Hedy's father suddenly felt sick and asked her to call an ambulance. By Sunday morning, he had lost consciousness. Hedy recited "Shema Yisrael" and the traditional "Vidui" [confession] for him. At 11:30 Sunday morning, he died. Thanks to her celestial travel agent, his beloved daughter was at his side.

For Sara Yoheved Rigler’s Spring Tour schedule or to order her new book God Winked, visit her website, www.sararigler.com.

An Answer and an Article

Someone asked this question: What is the story when Hashem goes to all the different nations and asks them if they want the Torah?

Here is a link to an article discussing this topic.

Let me know if you want to know more about this.

I also wanted to share a really good article from Aish.com that I posted last year. Enjoy it!

How to put your ego in check and let your soul shine through.
by Rabbi Chaim Levine

Ah Spring. Hay fever, Spring fever. The sound of lawnmowers being restarted after months of hibernation. What spring would be complete without houses full of neurotic Passover cleaners, scurrying around hardware stores looking for everything from sandpaper to gas torches.

To the uninitiated perhaps all this Passover cleaning looks a bit mundane. Hopefully by now you know better, and the questions on your mind are more like:

• What exactly does bending down to scour out the space under the fridge have to do with purification of the soul and achieving true freedom?

• Can we use herring for Marror?

• Can one use a Dustbuster to pick up chametz?

Let me reassure you that before Passover there’s not much more you can do for the old inner spirit than bowling for breadcrumbs. Why you ask? This is how it works:

You may have noticed that in Judaism we approach the spiritual through our involvement in the physical. Sitting by a river meditating is nice, but real spirituality comes from making the mundane sacred.

Further, we see the physical as bridge to the spiritual because Judaism recognizes that the physical has been created as a visceral mirror for abstract spiritual concepts. Case in point: cleaning for chametz.

The Sages say that the wick of the candle is a metaphor for the body and the flame is a metaphor for the soul.

The Talmud states that actual mitzvah of cleaning out your chametz is to be done with a candle. After the chametz is found, it is then to be burned in a flame.

The Sages say that the wick of the candle is a metaphor for the body and the flame is a metaphor for the soul. Just like however you position the wick, the flame always points upwards to the heavens, so too, no matter what you do with your body, your soul always stays true to its source. Your essence always remains pure and good, no matter what you do with yourself.

(I like to call this the "weebles wobble but they don’t fall down" theory of the soul.)

ALL PUFFED UP

Chametz -- the air that puffs up dough into bread -- is the ego. Just as chametz makes bread look bigger than it is without adding any substance, so too an ego filled with self importance is ultimately nothing but hot air.

How to we remove the ego? The answer is through the seemingly mundane act of Passover cleaning.

We take the candle and shine it in the darkest hidden cracks, exposing the chametz. When we look at ourselves through the lens of the soul we expose the chametz hiding within and recognize it as a puffed-up illusion. Once exposed, it goes up in smoke.

SEASON OF FREEDOM

Passover is the season of freedom. But freedom can only come if you have released yourself from being a slave to your ego.

If your ego has you in a death-hold, if you run after success because you think only success will you be happy, if you need other people's praise and reassurance to feel okay about yourself, you are a enslaved. If you can’t control your anger, or you are trapped by your fears, then you aren’t free. Burning away the chametz of your personality frees you to the life of the soul.

There is another spiritual idea that comes from chametz that, when understood, teaches the true nature of the ego.

Chametz is nothing but puffed up matzah. But what chametz is actually made out of is nothing less than matzah itself! So too there is an idea that the ego is nothing but a corrupt twisted desire that actually has its basis in a drive coming from the soul. For example:

• The soul wants only to give, to help humanity and fix the world. The ego’s perverted version of this noble drive is the desire for power and control, the urge to conquer the world.

• The soul wants to connect with the Divine. The ego wants to use spirituality to serve its needs (this is the basis for idol worship).

• The soul wants to connect with other people meaningfully. The ego corrupts this desire into a drive to manipulate and take from people.

By seeing that often the ego is nothing but a corruption of a noble desire we can easily move past it and choose to be truly free.

Here are a couple of exercises that you can try this Passover.

1. Ask yourself: "What ego-driven behaviors are enslaving me? What would life be like if they weren't there?" Ask God for the wisdom and understanding to see them for what they are.

2. Try so see that some of the biggest problems your ego gives you are actually a corrupt form of something beautiful from the soul. Then pursue the noble, pure expression of that ego-driven behavior.

Valentine's Day, Every Day

Here's a great video from aish called Valentine's Day, Every Day.

I'm not sure why but this video is not showing up in Google Reader. Come directly to the blog to watch it. Trust me, it's worth it!



It gives across such an important message! Why should we have ONE DAY a year to express our love for the people who are important to us? Shouldn't we do that every day?

Every day, we thank Hashem for all the things He gives us - from big to small. In shemona esrei, we thank Him for things that seem so basic, almost like they're a given. I once read that when you thank Hashem for giving you knowledge (in the bracha of ata chonen l'adam da'as), you should thank Hashem for the fact that you remember your own name and where you live! Who would even think of that - it seems like, of course I should remember where I live and what my name is! But no! It's not a given, it's a gift!! And you have to constantly thank the One who gave it to you!

In the birchos hashachar, we thank Hashem for our eyesight (pokei'ach ivrim), clothing (malbish arumim), waking us up in the morning (matir asurim). Thanking Him for little things are really important - because they are not so little after all! There is no one day in the calendar to express our appreciation to Him for all the things He gave and continues to give to us; we utilize every day, every tefillah to thank Him for what we have!

And it's the same thing with human relationships. If there's a special one day a year to express our love for the people that mean the most to us, what about the rest of the year?! It's important to show our appreciation to our parents, spouse, children and friends all the time! By telling them thank you for the little things they do - which really are not so little (do you know what it takes to have supper ready for the family? Or to keep the house clean? or to think of that perfectly thoughtful birthday present?), you are showing them that they are important in your life and they mean a lot to you!

Expressing appreciation to those who are closest to you does not have to be exclusive to one day in the calendar. Celebrate Valentine's Day every day!

What Do You Pray For?

Watch this video and think about the fact that Hashem runs the world and can give you anything! Every little detail of your life is planned by Him! So when something goes wrong or there's something you really want, ask Him for it!

Nothing is too big or too small for Him to do!
(Note: If you are reading this in google reader and it does not show up, please come directly to the blog to watch the video.)



I also think it's adorable to see what little kids ask for - the innocence of a little child, to know that you can ask G-d for ANYTHING and EVERYTHING - from making friends to (my favorite) owning Toys R Us!!

Man Is a Tree

Now that we are in the month of Shevat, here is a great article from aish comparing man to a tree with a little more depth.

Enjoy it!

Love Comes in Many Guises- an Aish Video

Powerful instructions for living a meaninghful life:)

Better or Bitter

Here's an amazing article from Aish.com

Five-year-old Lily shows us how to get through life's challenges.

by Slovie Jungreis-Wolff

"Sometimes it really hurts when the doctor puts a needle in my arm."

I am visiting five-year-old Lily, whose mother attends my parenting classes. Last summer, Lily had some awful headaches. One night, they became so terrible that Lily woke up her parents in middle of the night. The shock upon receiving a diagnosis of a brain tumor was beyond.

Lily's initial treatments included six weeks of radiation and chemotherapy, and then some more chemotherapy. Besides treatment days, Lily never complained or even missed a day of school. This summer, Lily has just been put on a clinical drug trial.

We are sitting across from each other, beautiful Lily, her incredibly gracious mother, Felicia, and I. Lily is chatting and busy coloring a white tzedakah box that I had brought over.

She stops for a moment as her soft voice grows serious. "Sometimes it really hurts, you know. And I get scared."

Felicia leans towards Lily. "That's okay sweetie, we sometimes all get scared. I'm scared of spiders, did you know that?"

Lily's eyes open wide.

"And I'm scared of big bugs," I add. "Not only that, but one of my children jumps from loud thunder and lightning. It's okay to sometimes be afraid."

Lily giggles. I want to scoop this precious child into my arms and kiss all her fears away.

Driving home, I cannot get Lily out of my mind. I am trying hard to find some profound thoughts to come away with. While spending time with Lily and Felicia, I feel as if I've been privy to a most priceless moment in time. I am moved by this child and her sweet innocence as she confronts a most difficult challenge.

Our Choice

There is no life that will be spared adversity. True, some challenges are more arduous then others, but for each person, their challenge is an uphill battle. Health issues, financial problems, marital stability, difficulties while raising children, are just a few of the struggles that may come our way. We cannot choose our life challenge. But we can choose how to get through the challenge. Will we become better or bitter?

That is up to us.

The Hebrew word for challenge is ‘nisayon.' The root of the word is 'nes,' which can also be defined as ‘miracle' or ‘banner.' My mother once explained to me that as we go through our nisayon , our life test, and then emerge stronger and wiser, we have created our own personal banner. We have unearthed a part of ourselves that until now remained concealed deep within us. We've discovered our hidden potential. And that becomes the miracle of life.

Our banner is our legacy through which we are remembered. When going through difficulties, instead of being miserable and sinking into despair, let us ask ourselves, "How have I colored my banner?" Did I choose to create a banner filled with colors of faith, courage, and strength, or did I pull up the covers and become overwhelmed with my sadness? Did I reach out to others in my life or did I only have room for myself?

A Kindness a Day

Felicia told me that Lily's preschool class had embarked upon their own tzedakah project this year. After collecting coins, the class discussed where the charity should go. Lily's teacher called to say that Lily raised her hand and expressed her wish. She described going to the doctor and finding children in the office who had just a few toys and crayons to play with as they waited. Some toys were broken and old.
"Can we give the charity to my doctor's office?" she asked.

The decision was unanimous.

If this child, amidst her pain, can think of others and see their needs, what about us? Can we not sensitize ourselves despite the stress and burdens that we shoulder, to open our eyes and bring a kindness each day into this world of ours?

Parents, especially, need to remember that the greatest kindness begins at home. There are times that we have patience for the world but our own children and spouses remain longing for a compassionate word or a sympathetic ear. The next time your daughter asks for a bedtime story or your son for a game of catch, just say yes. And say it with a smile, as if you really do want to spend time together. Take a moment to call your spouse during the day, even send a text. Don't get into your daily aggravations or which bills need to be paid. Instead, simply say "I love you." "I can't wait to see you".

Lights for Lily

Jennifer, a mother who is an old college friend of Felicia's, wanted to ‘do something' for Lily, but what?

Recognizing the power of doing mitzvahs in the merit of another, Jennifer started a campaign called ‘Lights for Lily.' Each week she sends out hundreds of emails that are then forwarded to hundreds more, asking women to light their Shabbos candles and add a special prayer for Lily. Some of these women have never lit Shabbos candles before. Some have never even really prayed. But we are a family and we are responsible for each other.

So this week, and each week to come, as you kindle your Shabbos lights, please close your eyes and pierce the heavens above. Take a moment and say a prayer for Leah Chana bas Frayda Rochel. Choose a new mitzvah, do an act of kindness, give charity, and think of this little girl who has taught me how to handle life's challenges while thinking of others. And when you are done reading this article, pass it on. Let us join together as one people.

Lily has surely painted a most incredible banner. Now it is our turn.

Responding to Mumbai

Yom Kippur: Everyone Falls

Choose Life

What kind of life do you want to choose for yourself this year?

Tisha B'Av - A Video

If you are trying to view this in google reader and are unable to watch this video, come to the blog to see it, it is worth it!

Torah is the Blueprint

Here's a really cool video!



It shows you that any person can learn Torah no matter what level they are on. The Torah speaks to all of us...just open it up and enjoy it! (I'm not sure why the aish videos don't show up in Google Reader but this one is really worth it so come to the blog to watch it!)

Who Am I? A Video

Giving Tzeddaka - A Video

Here is a great video with a powerful message on giving tzeddaka.



So keep this in mind next time you do this special mitzvah and may you always be on the giving end!

The Pesach Seder-What Takes So Long?

Pesach - Cleaning the Chometz

Here is a really good article from Aish.com. Enjoy it!

How to put your ego in check and let your soul shine through.
by Rabbi Chaim Levine

Ah Spring. Hay fever, Spring fever. The sound of lawnmowers being restarted after months of hibernation. What spring would be complete without houses full of neurotic Passover cleaners, scurrying around hardware stores looking for everything from sandpaper to gas torches.

To the uninitiated perhaps all this Passover cleaning looks a bit mundane. Hopefully by now you know better, and the questions on your mind are more like:

• What exactly does bending down to scour out the space under the fridge have to do with purification of the soul and achieving true freedom?

• Can we use herring for Marror?

• Can one use a Dustbuster to pick up chametz?

Let me reassure you that before Passover there’s not much more you can do for the old inner spirit than bowling for breadcrumbs. Why you ask? This is how it works:

You may have noticed that in Judaism we approach the spiritual through our involvement in the physical. Sitting by a river meditating is nice, but real spirituality comes from making the mundane sacred.

Further, we see the physical as bridge to the spiritual because Judaism recognizes that the physical has been created as a visceral mirror for abstract spiritual concepts. Case in point: cleaning for chametz.

The Sages say that the wick of the candle is a metaphor for the body and the flame is a metaphor for the soul.

The Talmud states that actual mitzvah of cleaning out your chametz is to be done with a candle. After the chametz is found, it is then to be burned in a flame.

The Sages say that the wick of the candle is a metaphor for the body and the flame is a metaphor for the soul. Just like however you position the wick, the flame always points upwards to the heavens, so too, no matter what you do with your body, your soul always stays true to its source. Your essence always remains pure and good, no matter what you do with yourself.

(I like to call this the "weebles wobble but they don’t fall down" theory of the soul.)

ALL PUFFED UP

Chametz -- the air that puffs up dough into bread -- is the ego. Just as chametz makes bread look bigger than it is without adding any substance, so too an ego filled with self importance is ultimately nothing but hot air.

How to we remove the ego? The answer is through the seemingly mundane act of Passover cleaning.

We take the candle and shine it in the darkest hidden cracks, exposing the chametz. When we look at ourselves through the lens of the soul we expose the chametz hiding within and recognize it as a puffed-up illusion. Once exposed, it goes up in smoke.

SEASON OF FREEDOM

Passover is the season of freedom. But freedom can only come if you have released yourself from being a slave to your ego.

If your ego has you in a death-hold, if you run after success because you think only success will you be happy, if you need other people's praise and reassurance to feel okay about yourself, you are a enslaved. If you can’t control your anger, or you are trapped by your fears, then you aren’t free. Burning away the chametz of your personality frees you to the life of the soul.

There is another spiritual idea that comes from chametz that, when understood, teaches the true nature of the ego.

Chametz is nothing but puffed up matzah. But what chametz is actually made out of is nothing less than matzah itself! So too there is an idea that the ego is nothing but a corrupt twisted desire that actually has its basis in a drive coming from the soul. For example:

• The soul wants only to give, to help humanity and fix the world. The ego’s perverted version of this noble drive is the desire for power and control, the urge to conquer the world.

• The soul wants to connect with the Divine. The ego wants to use spirituality to serve its needs (this is the basis for idol worship).

• The soul wants to connect with other people meaningfully. The ego corrupts this desire into a drive to manipulate and take from people.

By seeing that often the ego is nothing but a corruption of a noble desire we can easily move past it and choose to be truly free.

Here are a couple of exercises that you can try this Passover.

1. Ask yourself: "What ego-driven behaviors are enslaving me? What would life be like if they weren't there?" Ask God for the wisdom and understanding to see them for what they are.

2. Try so see that some of the biggest problems your ego gives you are actually a corrupt form of something beautiful from the soul. Then pursue the noble, pure expression of that ego-driven behavior.

A Story Before Purim - Aish.com

This Purim, grab a piece of God's unconditional love, and dance.

by Dovid Frankel



We were supposed to be home for Purim. We were supposed to be celebrating our own personal “turnaround” in our home, together with all our neighbors, relatives and friends, delivering mishloach manos to everyone who had been there for us.

We weren't supposed to be sitting in a hospital room in Philadelphia miles away from home…the same hospital room we’d been sitting in for the past six weeks. We weren't supposed to be worrying about why our daughter was suddenly running a fever or why she had a rash all over her body or why she was complaining about that phantom pain in her legs.

Our story began on the first day of Adar I two years ago. Our heretofore perfectly healthy three year old daughter, Miriam, was rushed to the hospital where she underwent emergency life saving surgery. Something had blown a hole through her stomach which promptly began to wither away. By the time the source of her pain was discovered almost half her stomach had been destroyed by gangrene and had to be removed. (Miraculously, the parts which connected the esophagus and intestines to the stomach remained healthy.)

Afterward, on the advice of our pediatrician, she was transferred to Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia (CHOP) to recuperate. Then she developed severe complications from the surgery and her recuperation was going to take a lot longer than originally thought. Surgery had caused a blood clot in her leg and another tiny hole in her intestine had been discovered which could not be immediately repaired.

As Purim approached and her condition stabilized, we requested that she be discharged in time for the holiday and allowed to convalesce at home. The doctor seemed amenable to the idea and we began to take classes to learn how to care for her at home. We learned how to administer shots and take care of her intravenous and the open wound in her stomach which was pumping out pints and pints of intestinal fluid daily. We were excited to finally be going back to our own house. We would be reunited with our four-year-old son who was living with relatives. Our six-month-old baby would once again sleep in her own crib. Most importantly, our little three-year-old would be able to leave the hospital room she had spent so many weeks in (undoubtedly wondering all the while whether she was there for good). We were all set. But God had other plans.

We were thrown from our emotional high into a state of despair.

Purim that year fell out on a Friday. On the Wednesday before Purim, Miriam suddenly developed a fever. Because the original cause of her condition had not yet been identified, we had no way of knowing if there was still a danger to her life. Therefore, the mysterious fever came as a shock and totally unnerved everyone. We were thrown from our emotional high into a state of despair.

The Fast of Esther came and it was a crazy day. Miriam’s doctor decided to replace her PIC line -- an intravenous line leading straight to the heart -- hoping that would solve the problem. It wasn’t a pleasant procedure considering the fact that she was kept awake for the entire time it was being removed. Our hopes for an imminent recovery and return home were disintegrating in front of our eyes.

Purim night Miriam was still running a high fever and began complaining of severe pains in her leg. That became extremely worrisome because her legs had nothing to do with her medical condition. We called for an Attending Physician but the following day was Good Friday and most of the staff either had the night off or were in surgery. A nice but not too knowledgeable Resident came to examine Miriam. Unfortunately, he was clueless as to what to do for her. Finally a Fellow, the next doctor in the hierarchy, came to examine her and impatiently announced that nothing could be done for her at the moment. We were absolutely devastated and it showed.

“Look,” I suddenly turned to my wife, “it's Purim. We can’t spend our time being all sad and depressed. It’s the happiest day of the year; a day when everything looked so bleak but it was all turned on its head as God performed a wonderful miracle for us. Let’s put everything aside and enjoy Purim. We’ll make it the most amazing Purim this hospital has ever seen.”

As I finished speaking a Chinese-American nurse walked in…

“Hello,” she said. “I’ll be Miriam’s nurse tonight. My name is Esther.”

Shivers ran down my spine as my wife and I stared at each other. Who would ever believe that my daughter’s nurse Purim night would be a Chinese-American girl named Esther! It was an unmistakable message from our Father in heaven.

Purim proved to be the turning point in her recovery.

The next morning, Purim day, was the first time in six weeks that Miriam was allowed to put a morsel of food in her mouth, a shiny red lollipop. Her fever was gone (it had been an infected PIC line after all) and she was able to dress up in her costume and join the party we made in the hospital’s playroom. Purim proved to be the turning point in her recovery. Immediately after Purim the output from her intestine dropped so dramatically that the nurses kept rechecking her chart to confirm what they were seeing. The tiny hole in her intestine was healing itself without surgery!

By the time Miriam was released from the hospital three weeks later, she no longer needed daily injections because the blood clot in her leg had disappeared. We had been concerned about taking her home on blood thinners because any fall by the active three-year-old could potentially lead to a hemorrhage. We no longer had to worry about that or about giving daily injections. Within weeks of coming home she was able to eat like any other child and thank God today she is completely recovered. Mere words can’t begin to describe our overwhelming gratitude to God for her comeback and recovery.

Purim is all about revealing the hidden and for one brief moment we were given a peek behind the scenery. At the bleakest and most despondent of moments when things look like they can only get worse, God reaches down and in the most awe inspiring and benevolent way sends you a whisper of love, a kiss of endearment with the unmistakable message, “Don’t worry, I’m here, I’m holding your hand and guiding you through it all.”

This Purim, don’t waste the big day. Take a brief moment out from all the fun and festivities to look up at the heavens and feel the incredible warmth and heartfelt affection of a Father who is so madly in love with his children. Grab a piece of that unconditional love, dance with it, sing with it and never ever let go of it.

Happy Purim!

A Lesson on Purim

Here's a really cute video of the Purim story in short. It's from aish.com. Enjoy it!

And here's a great article from aish.com with an important lesson on the Purim story. We have to keep reminding ourselves Who is in charge and Who is running the world and then we will be much calmer and have much less worrying to do. Read it and enjoy!

by Emuna Braverman

Even when the situation appears bleak, God is still there behind the scenes, pulling the strings.

I've been thinking a lot lately about Purim -- a little about hamantashen recipes, a little about mishloach manot but mostly about the Almighty hiding His face, about living in a time of concealment.

On a national level, on an international level, we face uncertainty and insecurity. No country is immune to the financial stress, there are warring tribes and nations across the globe, Iran sits poised to acquire nuclear capacity, Pakistan already has it, and anti-Israel sentiment seems to be on the rise.

More locally, in my small community recently there have been a slew of sorrows -- sudden deaths, illness among children, damaged or destroyed relationships.

It's impossible to make sense of it all. It's a world where the Almighty hides His face.

And not only is it impossible to control it all, but it's not our job. Sure, we have to make our effort, we have to do what's right, we have to be kind and caring.. But the ultimate outcome -- for the world and our people and our local communities and individuals -- rests with a power much greater than ourselves..

And the truth is that's a relief. Because if the Almighty wasn't in charge, then we'd really have to worry.

Yes, we're confused, we're uncertain -- even a little unhinged at times, but we know it will be all right.

The most important lesson of the Purim story is that even when the situation appears bleak, even when the Almighty's face is hidden, He is still there behind the scenes, pulling the strings. The Cosmic Puppeteer.

That knowledge doesn't ease all the pain. It just takes the edge off; a little spiritual Tylenol. It keeps our anxiety manageable and out of the DSM-IV. Because we really aren't in charge. We really don't have to plan the world's future. And it really will all be okay.

We just have to keep reminding ourselves that the Almighty is here, whether we can see His face or not.

We need to make a reasonable effort to stimulate the economy but whether this particular plan works is out of Barak Obama and Nancy Pelosi's hands. We need to fight for our land and try to make peace for Israel, but whether this is achieved doesn't really depend on if Bibi or Tzippi Livni are running the government. We need to see doctors and take our medicine but whether the cure will be effective or not is out of our hands. We need to pursue an education and send our resumes if we are looking for employment. But who will hire us, in what position, and at what salary is not up to us.

It would be less frustrating if the Almighty's face weren't hidden. Everything would be clear and our decisions easy. We'd certainly sleep better at night. But that's not our challenge, that's not our opportunity for growth.

At the time of Achashverosh, our people had difficulty remembering the Almighty's hidden presence. It was a little too "out of sight, out of mind." With Esther's help, they woke up just in time.

We need to rouse ourselves now, to move forward with faith and optimism, recognizing that even though He may be hidden, it's all in His hands. And on Purim, we can take a small drink (emphasis on small), just to help ease our anxieties and inhibitions and clear the path to this recognition.

We pray that this be the year where the whole Jewish people comes to recognize the Almighty's presence and where the mask of darkness is removed from our world.