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I am in the city again. My favorite place. The West Village. Cobblestone roads. Quaint colorful shops. No parking. And a boardwalk to soak up the sun on this beautiful Spring day. I resign myself to the fact I'll get a ticket while on this job this morning, as my phone buzzes with a message that reads, "sorry I'm running 20 minutes late." Perfect. Lost in thought, a conversation I had last week with a friend pops into my head: The origins of Shir Hashirim. Its author is Shlom

Tonight, as Jews around the world search for the last pieces of bread, checking pockets, crumbs on the counter, corners we don’t usually look, there’s a strange kind of feeling in the air. Not panic. Not urgency. Something quieter. Like we’re looking for somethinh & we’re not even sure we fully understand. And a question hit me. Has there ever been a moment, where all of humanity, agreed a miracle happened? Not debated. Not explained away. Not reinterpreted later. Just… agree

Writing is the language of my soul. It loves words. It loves abstraction. It loves open-ended cliffhangers for life’s most dangerous questions. It loves to see itself concretized in black and white as if to say: I have a place in this world. But once it comes out, it must be contained. Channeled. Given metaphors. Dressed in fonts that won’t rupture the message — even when rupture is the goal Inside, it is limitless. Raw power. Capable of tearing through generations of illusio

I trust in what is. That’s a quote that came to me this morning in meditation. Growing up as a religious Jew, I was always taught what God is. I was also taught that someone else knows Him better than I do, that someone else experienced Him, and that I should ask them, learn from them. And while tremendously valuable, this also carried a risk for me. As someone whose search is still ongoing, I’ve come to realize that they never knew more than me. Nobody knows more than anyone

The bridge. It has no home. It doesn't belong to either side. While everyone claims ownership, It stands proud. It connects, and is disconnected. Everyone comes to visit, no one ever stays. The best it can hope for is traffic. But then all that weight at once! Rumbling trucks, Cables shuddering. Rigidity would break them, So they learn buoyancy. Its presence is clearly known, while its loneliness is never appreciated. It holds more than most, because that's what it was

People always say we need to preserve our planet. Preserve its oceans. And all species within it. My question, obviously a rhetorical one, is why? Why preserve our planet mother earth when so much bloodshed, war and famine exist within her? Why preserve something that no longer feeds our purpose. We've gotten what we need from her, it's done it's job, now let it go to hell? Why preserve something that we will no longer ever need again? YOLO. So who gives a a crap about preser

Why is it so hard to see?? Gyros and shawarma Chulent and beef stew Challah and bread Pita and laffa Church and Shul Tradition and Minhag Holy Ghost and Shechina Moses and Jesus Spirit and Neshama Halal and Kosher Torah and Quran Priest and Rabbi Tikun olam and social justice Bashert and soul mate Man and Woman Me and you Mine and yours We don't need more religion, maps or lines drawn. We need better translators We don't need more borders. We need a universal lang

I remember the day. I didn’t have a word for it. It was a new experience. It was foreign to me. And then it hit me. I had become untethered. Not to be confused with freedom. Oh no, it’s actually the exact opposite of freedom. Freedom is when your father pretends to let go of you while you first ride your bike. Untethered is the moment you turn around and realize he let go a long time ago. Untethered from expectation. Untethered from the watchful eyes. Untethered from the illu

I’m looking around shul and I see at least fifty people, old, young, a beautiful mix. A beautiful community. But something doesn’t feel right. Something feels off. Each one of us is so powerful, so extraordinary, beyond measure. Each of us can literally do whatever we set our minds to - be the greatest artist, businessman, or talmid chacham. Our being is so powerful, it’s mind‑boggling. We’ve sent men to the moon. We’ve invented metal tubes that fly thousands of miles through

I didn't stumble into love. I fell into it. And bruised myself. And broke many bones. Not just my own. I hit the ground so hard, in love. I hit it with force I can't explain. Love hit me with it all it had. And broke everything around me. The way down was brutal No way to catch my breath Reaching the pavement with dizzying speed. I was no longer recognizable by the time I had fallen. It's funny we don't climb in love. It's funny we don't shoot for love. It's funny we don't me

Some people believe God is found only in certain actions. Certain checkboxes. Certain churches. Certain shuls. Certain Chassiduses. Some people believe God is infinite yet still believe there’s only one true way to reach Him. Some say actions matter more than intention. Some say answers exist only outside themselves. Some feel too unworthy to decide their own path toward God. Some say religion is the only road. Some say ritual. Some say stillness. Some say silence. Some belie

I was in the city last night. Times square. I love the city. It's such a cool place. Even strolling alone, I felt part of it. At one point I noticed the homelessness around me and it was pretty gruesome. Some sleeping. Some staggering. Some shouting. One women even took someone to the street cart and bought her a meal and a drink. Each time I saw one I whispered, wow there's God laying in the streets. I can't say I did something about it, but I took notice. I noticed the soul

There's this thing. I can't name it. I don't have words to describe it. But I've seen it. I remember the first time I felt it and I've been trying to get to it again ever since. I go about my life, I don't always think about it. But when I do, man the ache! It's like the floodgates open and I stand there in shock like it's the first time it's ever happened to me. I'm taken by surprise each time anew. I've seen it come in many shapes and forms. Different colors and hues. It's

I'm sitting in a field vast and wide in a part of Berlin. The magnitude of this place shows up everywhere, even on the floor, even in the...

I think I might have found the answer to the age-old question: Free choice. Do we have it? If so, was it predetermined? Could I have...

Why does it trigger me so much when someone says, “I hope you find what you’re looking for”? Am I the only one looking for something? Why...

We romanticize the metamorphosis of the caterpillar and the butterfly with reverence and awe— but God forbid it were to happen to us or...

"Not the one that eases the fast. The one that ends the exile" Write. Write. Write,” screams my soul. But my fingers refuse to type. My...

Ever read the book A Fish Out of Water by Helen Palmer? If you didn’t, you can scroll on—I’ll try to recap. But if you did, do you...

This is the raw, unedited piece I wrote two years ago. No cleanup, no polish—just the way it came out. If you’ve read the refined version...