Comfortably Uncomfortable

"When the month of Adar enters, we increase in joy" - Talmud, Taanit 29a I love this particular month in the Jewish calendar. Honestly, if you look at Jewish history, joy isn't something that particularly stands out. Sure, we have parties, and more parties, and, you know, parties. But joy? joy is something that is only found in a handful of places, and maybe, from a handful of people. See, I've never been one to shy away from vulnerability, so the fact that joy feels to be lacking in my life at this particular time shouldn't be a surprise.  We are slowly but surely approaching the one year mark for what feels like a century long process. We have now been, in one way or another, deprived of human contact and functional peace for almost a year. We no longer question whether we have enough time to pivot our planned services and events, but rather, we are now looking at how we can improve an already tested system of virtual gatherings.  It's funny, in a dark, twis...

When I opened my Timehop app today, it reminded me of a few things... screenshots of some meetings planned for the week for work in preparation for our upcoming Cuba trip, pictures of Lily and her bff sharing a plate of fruit at an indoor play place... you know, pre-COVID activities. And while the current state of affairs in American politics has granted us a much needed reprieve from the darker times from the past few years (thank you, Bernie Sanders, for gracing us with the ultimate meme-worthy opportunity), the heavy reality of the merciless passing of time of the last year does nothing but cast a cloud on any source of joy that may be available to us right now. And yes, I own the doomsday approach that this blog may come off as, and apologize if it sparks unnecessary sadness in your life. Here is the thing about the past year. When 2020 started, my expectations for the year were not unrealistic in nature: be a better parent, grow in my career, and engage in some much needed self-re...

This post fills like I'm dropping a truth bomb to those around me... Surprise! I think I might want to be a Rabbi next.  I have spent the better part of December trying to figure out what 2021 will look like. I know, who spends time trying to figure out next year, when the one that has just passed turned out to be a giant dumpster fire. If we have learned anything from 2020, is that predictability is no longer a factor when trying to set a path. When 2020 started, one the things that were clear to me was where my professional life was heading. I was growing at work, finding my voice, finally building my dream path. Our trip to Cuba in February opened my eyes to a world where passion and determination open roads that you didn't even know existed. I came back recharged and renewed, ready to build from the momentum into a career that was screaming at me to push myself. I was also half way through my DEI Fellowship, thoroughly enjoying working with a wonderful congregation, and wa...

 November 27, 2002. That was the day I graduated High School. The school year in Chile goes from March to November. December 5th, I spent the day saying good bye to friends and family, and that night, I boarded Lan Chile Flight 530 to New York. I don't remember crying that day, I just remember being excited. My mom was flying with me, so maybe that helped. We landed in JFK on December 6, very early in the morning. Headed over to Rye to my cousin's house, and a few days later, I moved into one of Adelphi's dorms and started their ESL program, which I was scheduled to attend for a month before starting my Undergraduate studies at Adelphi that January. I moved into the dorm like any college student, said good bye to my mom, and got started. Back then, smartphones weren't a thing, and neither were laptops with built-in cameras, so if I wanted to talk to family and friends, I had to type an obscenely long calling card number and wait for the person on the other side of the l...

On November 3rd, 2016, I voted in my very first American Presidential election. However, its not that moment that made the experience a memorable one. I (painfully) remember November 4th, 2016, like it was yesterday. I was 8 months pregnant with Lily, and I had gone to bed late the night before, flipping between news outlets for different updates from states that were slowly starting to call their election results. I had gone to bed with hope that all the polls were right, and that a Clinton win was nothing but a given. Now, I was by no means a big Clinton fan, but as a human being, I found it impossible to vote for the alternative, whose behavior and narrative went so strongly against every moral and ethical value I hold in my heart. That dreadful morning, when I turned the news on, it felt like a giant brick had fallen and cracked my head open. My voice was gone, my whole body ached, which was a different ache from that of my already long and difficult pregnancy. I held onto my belly...

This might be one of the most personal posts you will find on this blog. I don’t write it as an update on my life, or for pity or attention. I write it because the lessons learned from the experiences are lessons that should be able to help those going through the same struggles we have gone through. As many of you already know, on April 24th, Stephen was admitted into the hospital. The following five weeks were plagued by tears, pain, endless waiting for calls from doctors, fights with doctors, uncertainty, anxiety… anything and everything you can think of that comes with a loved one fighting for their life without answers. The experience allowed us to discern who are the ones who will always be there for us, while showing true colors of those whose motives can be questionable at best, and dangerous at their worst. We were blessed to have Stephen fully recover. And while he is well and healthy, our marriage did not have the same result. The weeks following his discharge were dark. W...

On March 7th, I got the call that our Purim carnival got cancelled. COVID was starting to really kick in, and the world started getting acquainted with the now famous phrase "in these uncertain times". We already had our costumes picked out, so the fact that the carnival, which is one of my favorite events of the year got cancelled, it really made me sad. At that point, however, it felt like a micro-problem: we are missing out on the carnival, we'll just get through this one and just wash our hands more often and not shake hands or hug when we see people. On March 13th, we got the email from the Superintendent of Schools that schools would be closing for two weeks. After that, it all started snowballing.  I had tickets to go to Chile on March 27th for my grandmother's 90th birthday. I was being told by people to change my ticket for later in the month, as the virus wasn't slowing down. As the date drew near, I got the email from the airline that my flight was canc...