Naaseh V’Nishma Moments
| June 8, 2016
I’d see glimmers of a sad reality that would chill my bones even in the most humid summer air; the vacancy in the backpackers’ eyes hinted at deep sadness and their laughter bordered on hysteria. Though I had a sense that there was something greater out there I could not find it on the white sandy beaches or in the emerald jungles across the globe. I started university with a desire to grow. Bored of parties and social drama I focused on learning declaring myself an English major and Jewish studies minor. I joined a Jewish group on campus and started reading books by Rabbi Akiva Tatz and Rabbi Lawrence Keleman. I became active in Hillel and enjoyed weekly Shabbat dinners. Yet at a certain point I couldn’t push myself further. My egalitarian feminist upbringing was engraved upon my psyche my dreams of becoming a high-profile professional consumed much of my headspace and I enjoyed dressing and acting in the manner I’d been socialized to appreciate. Then Yom Kippur came.
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