Standing at Sinai

היום תשעה וארבעים יומים שהם שבעה שבועות לעמר
Today is the forty-ninth day of the omer - seven weeks
מלכת שבמלכת
A day of majesty in a week of majesty




This is it, the counting is now complete. Am I prepared for revelation? I'm not sure....

My spiritual struggles seem to be the thread weaving its way through this year's omer posts. I keep looking for balance that seems so elusive at times. I walk the fine line between seeking and acceptance. I'm often not sure what it is I'm looking for; I hope I know when I find "it." But then again, I must remember it's about the journey and not the outcome.

I hope my musings have meant something to the readers who have found their way here. Some of you I know--some of you I don't. I would love to hear from any of you who have followed my journey this year. Feel free to send me an email, or just comment here anonymously. It would be great to share in the connection. I will continue to write, just not every day. So please, continue to tune in :)

And as we approach that moment at Sinai, let me say....

חג שמח
Chag Sameach

Centering on Torah

היום שמונה וארבעים יומים שהם ששה שבועות וששה יומים לעמר
Today is the forty-eightה day of the omer - six weeks and six days
יסוד שבמלכת
A day of foundation in a week of majesty



In two days we will celebrate Matan Torah--the giving of the Torah. In some ways, I think I should think about this as a kind of New Year celebration--to do teshuvah; to make resolutions. As I noted earlier this week, I keep Torah close. So the creation, this first view of the Torah, is an important beginning.

I've felt a loss of spiritual center this year. I could cite lots of reasons--Beth Sholom "fatigue", the passing of Mitzi and Rabbi Lew in such a short time, issues with advancing to "elder" status, to name a few. But instead of looking at what I've lost, what I cannot change, I realize I need to go back to my basics--looking to what sustains me. Just as I go to the gym weekly to keep my body in tune, I need to study Torah each week to keep my mind and spirit in tune.

In the past few years I have centered much of my Jewish practice on service to my community. I called on the strength of my practice to get both my kahal and myself through those difficult years. I will continue to support my community, but I need to make the replenishment of my spirit a priority.

This is the message of this day of foundation in the week of majesty--this day as we take those final steps that take us to Sinai.

UP--Thumbs Down

היום שבעה וארבעים יומים שהם ששה שבועות וחמשה יומים לעמר
Today is the forty-seventh day of the omer - six weeks and five days
הוד שבמלכת
A day of humility in a week of majesty




I just saw the new Disney/Pixar movie, UP. I wouldn't call it a bad movie but, taking the high quality of the animation out of the equation, I thought it was very mediocre.

The plot was pretty standard--an adventure/dream fulfilling/friendship story--yes, I shed some tears, but then again, I'm easily manipulated in that way :) In fact, it seemed that the story was driven by the need to make the cool action sequences, going from one to the other with weak links. The writing wasn't very good; many of the lines predictable. And when it was done, I was left with nothing that stayed with me. It's a movie that is ultimately forgettable.

Yes, the animation is great, with vibrant colors and detail that makes the images pop off the screen. But I need more for a movie to reach me, and this one definitely did not. But a quick look at the early reviews put me in the minority, if this and this and this is any indication.

But I'd rather watch The Incredibles, Ratatouille, or even Cars than UP. And as far as I'm concerned, Wall-E is in a higher class all by itself. You can read my thoughts about that movie here, and here, and here. I doubt you'll be hearing any more from me about UP.

Memorial Day Remembrance

היום ששה וארבעים יומים שהם ששה שבועות וארבעה יומים לעמר
Today is the forty-sixth day of the omer - six weeks and four days
נצח שבמלכת
A day of endurance in a week of majesty

This morning at minyan I once again commemorated the yarhzeit of my uncle, Edward Heiss, a bombardier in World War II whose plane was shot down over Malaysia on January 11, 1945. His name was later found on the roster of a Japanese prisoner of war camp, but he never made it home.


This particular yarhzeit has taken on significance to me that goes beyond the personal. Make no mistake, deep emotions are stirred within me. I feel so connected to this man who I never knew. I mourn for the love and laughter he would have added to our family. I mourn for my father's loss of his brother and mentor; for my grandparent's loss of their oldest son. On this day I channel their grief--tear pour out and my voice catches as I recite the El Malei prayer to honor his life. You can read the words I share here, and reflections of Memorial Day's past here and here.

But on this day that has come to mean the start of summer more than a day of remembrance, honoring the memory of my uncle brings home the reality of the lives lost in war. There are many families who are grieving as my family grieved; in as much denial as my grandfather, who could not accept the loss of his son. It is important to me to bring that realization to my community each Memorial Day, to hold that consciousness in their hearts. We need to remember that war, justified or not, will take its toll--on the living as well as the countless lives lost. And true healing from those wounds does not come from forgetting those lost lives, but remembering and celebrating them.

Zichrono L'Vracha, Uncle Eddie.
Your memory is a blessing to me, and to those who hear your story.

Keeping Torah Close

היום חמשה וארבעים יומים שהם ששה שבועות ושלשה יומים לעמר
Today is the forty-fifth day of the omer - six weeks and three days
תפרת שבמלכת
A day of compassion in a week of majesty



I am someone who loves to leyn--chant Torah, as well as other books of the Tanach. The patterns of the notes matched with the patterns of the language resonate within me and flow outward, allowing those around me to fulfill the mitzvah of hearing these ancient words.

Being able to leyn is skill that is in demand by Jewish communities--both large and small. I've chanted at Beth Sholom in a sanctuary filled with more than 600 people and I've chanted in a classroom with a small minyan of 15. Yesterday I had the honor of chanting outside in a garden bursting with blooms. When I was done, I returned to my place within group accompanied by the handshaking of appreciation from those gathered to hear the words of Torah. One man complimented me on my reading and then asked, "Are you a hazzan or a rabbi?" I smiled and shook my head no. He paused for a moment, and then said, "you're someone who is close to Torah." My smile grew larger, and I nodded, "Yes."

You don't have to be a cantor or a rabbi to be close to Torah. The messages contained within can be accessed through language or song; academically through study or viscerally through the senses. This ability for everyone to connect to the ancient teachings is something that has kept Judaism alive and vibrant through the centuries. We need to keep these connections going to insure our traditions continue--as we honor the old through the eyes of the new.

Beet Salad

היום ארבעה וארבעים יומים שהם ששה שבועות ושני יומים לעמר
Today is the forty-fourth day of the omer - six weeks and two days
גבורה שבמלכת
A day of strength in a week of majesty


The air was cool but our souls were warmed by heartfelt davening at the services of the Beit Yakov/Gan Aliora Havurah. We celebrated the life of a loved one lost, marking the one year anniversary with remembrances--bringing laughter and tears.

And we shared food, our way of offering thanks to the community around us. I brought my beet salad, a dish that never fails to please--and today was no exception. I had a request to post the recipe so it can continue to be shared with others. I don't use exact measurements when making this dish, and there's a lot of room for variations. Aside from some key ingredients, what goes in depends on what I have on hand. Feel free to use what seems good to you....

Enjoy......

First of course, you need beets. Any kind will do, although I prefer the sweet chioggia beets, but the golden or standard red beets will be fine. Cut the tops if the greens are still on and put the beets in a pot and fill the pot with water. Bring the water to a boil, then cover and set to simmer. In about 30-45 minutes, depending on the size of the beets, they should be soft enough to easily run a knife through them. Drain the pot and fill with cold water to cool the beets a bit. When they're cool enough to handle, slip the skins off.

Cut the beets into approx. 1" cubes and put into a bowl. Chop 3 or 4 green onions and add that. Chopped red onion is also a good option.

You can then add any number of herbs--either fresh or dried. Today I used a handful of chopped cilantro and a handful chopped mint. Dill and parsley work as well. I often like to add some chopped celery for crunch, or may some chopped jicama. Wondering what to do with that can of bamboo shoots you bought months ago? This is a good place to use it.

I always add some sort of dried fruit--raisins, cranberries, chopped apricots. Add chopped nuts if you'd like.

The key ingredient in my beet salad is the chopped pickled ginger. This is now readily available--you can even get it at Safeway! I try to always have it on hand in my kitchen. Take a big pinch chopped fine and stir it into the mix. Season with salt and pepper.

Then stir in some raspberry vinaigrette. These days you can get this at most supermarkets in the salad dressing aisle. I know it's available at Trader Joes. If you don't have any, use orange juice and some vinegar. There are times I've also added some toasted sesame oil.

As you can see, this is far from a precise recipe. I don't give any exact amounts. Because it just depends on what I have and how it tastes. I tend to cook using the theory I learned from my mother. When you have enough good ingredients...."What could be bad??"

So now that I've given you the basics---just go for it.

Jewish Gender Rights

היום שלשה וארבעים יומים שהם ששה שבועות ויום אחד לעמר
Today is the forty-third day of the omer - six weeks and one day
חסד שבמלכת
A day of loving kindness in a week of majesty


I've never considered myself an activist. Yes, there are issues I feel strongly about, but I've always been one who is more likely to compromise in the hope that things will move forward rather than pick a fight that could destroy the foundation of what I'm trying to build. Yet lately, I've found one place where compromise doesn't work for me -- the role of women in Jewish ritual practice.

When I was a girl growing up in the Conservative Movement I didn't have much of a problem with the limited roles I had in Judaism. It wasn't like I was stuck up in the balcony of my synagogue--we didn't even have a mechitzah, a separation of seating between men and women. The truth is that most of the boys I knew didn't participate in services much either--that was left to the adults. All I really wanted was an aliyah, to be called up to the Torah.

I didn't feel the barriers at the many USY--United Synagogue Youth--events I attended. No, I had nothing to do with leading services, but I didn't have those skills anyway. I sang and danced and discussed and argued with everyone--any gender-based ritual differences either went over my head or I just took them for granted. On my USY Israel Pilgrimage trip when I stood up for my right to change out of my skirt into shorts after my Shabbat morning prayers at the Kotel--the Western Wall, it never occured to me to make it a gender issue--how come the boys could wear shorts but not me.

In my adulthood I moved away from much of Jewish religious practice, but still found myself in a male oriented work world. At NBC in the late 1970s/early 1980s, I was one of a handful of women working in the videotape department, and one of an even fewer pool of women who were post-production editors. Actually, the latter group at the time was just two--my friend Dorene and myself. I dealt with a lot of mostly good-natured ribbing even as it was borderline misogynist. For the most part, I took it with a smile and then gave back as good as I got :)

I enter my elder years (gulp/sigh) once again involved in my Jewish practice--the rituals a key component to the spiritual realm I seek. It turns out that much of what I do now, the parts of the practice I'm drawn to, are acts that I had no entry to during the years of my youth based solely on my gender. And I cannot accept anyone telling me these rituals are off limits to me. When I enter as a guest into a community that still follows the customs of separation, I am respectful of their practice. But it pains me to know that the Jewish community that nurtured me as a child--a girl child--has not moved on from that time and does not welcome me in my heart-felt practice as an adult women.

I am lucky to belong to a community the embraces egalitarian principals. I'd like to think that the majority of the Conservatively affiliated synagogues do the same. But it is time for the USCJ to take a stand, to make egalitarianism in Jewish ritual an important part of what defines us as Conservative Jews. Making that stand can only strengthen the movement. Failing to make the stand, I believe, will contribute to the erosion of what was once a pillar of American Judaism.

Very sad......

The Hebrew Mamita

היום שני וארבעים יומים שהם ששה שבועות לעמר
Today is the forty-second day of the omer - six weeks
מלכת שביסוד
A day of majesty in a week of foundation

One week to go--we enter the final stretch of this omer count. I have some essays planned for this last week combined with some study of the Book of Ruth--appropriate as we're in the lead up to Shavuot, the festival when the book is read.

For now, I'd like to share with you the poetry jam of Vanessa Hidory, the self-proclaimed "Hebrew Mamita", who channels the spirits of what I like to call "women with chutzpah" -- a category that includes Ruth. (with thanks to Dorene for introducing her to me)

Reclaiming our Stories

היום אחד וארבעים ארבעים יומים שהם חמשה שבועות וששה יומים לעמר
Today is the forty-first day of the omer - five weeks and six days
יסוד שביסוד
A day of foundation in a week of foundation



This weekend, feeling the approach of Shavuot, I read some poems and essays from the anthology Reading Ruth: Contemporary Women Reclaim a Sacred Story. In her essay "Growing Up and Older with Ruth," Sylvia Rothchild mentions that her grandmother would sit in the women's balcony of her Williamsburg, Brooklyn shul, ". . . praying loudly, to help the women around her who couldn't read." Reading that, my mind jumped to Maggie Anton's Rashi's Daughters books in which Rashi's mother, wife, and daughters served that same role in their shul, leading the women in prayer. And then, it hit me.....

For years I've been saying that in a former life, my soul lived as a yeshiva bucher--a yeshiva student. Of course, I had to be a male--there were no women equivalents, as far as I knew. But now I see where I was within my Eastern-European Jewish community. I was one of those women like Rothchild's grandmother and Rashi's mother, wife, daughters. I was the women who lead the others in prayer. I sang loudly, sharing the spirit within me through the melodies.

And so, through my study of Ruth I reclaim my own sacred story. The mantle of the yeshiva bucher never felt quite right, but it was the only place I could go. Now I can feel the flow of my maternal ancestors within me as I continue to share my spirit through prayer.

Sacred Schleppers

היום ארבעים יומים שהם חמשה שבועות וחמשה יומים לעמר
Today is the fortieth day of the omer - five weeks and five days
הוד שביסוד
A day of humility in a week of foundation

At the end of this week's Torah parasha, Bamidbar, the Kohathites--descendents of Kohath son of Levi--are given the task of transporting the sacred objects surrounding the Tabernacle--the Mishkan--as the Israelites travel through the wilderness. These objects are so sacred that only the priests are allowed to dismantle them, wrap them up, and take them outside the Tent of Meeting. Only then can the Kohathites lift them up and carry them to their next destination. Twice Moses and Aaron are told to make sure the Kohathites do not come in any sort of contact--physical or visual--with those objects. If they do, they will die. (Bamidbar 4:15-20)

The Etz Hayim Chumash offers two commentaries on this. One, from the 15th century scholar Isaac ben Judah Abravanel, who interpreted this to "express concern lest the clans of Kohath become so fascinated by staring at the sacred objects that they would fall into a mystic trance, unable to do their work." A more modern commentator, the 19th century sage Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch presents the flip side of that--"for him, the Torah's concern is that the Kohathites might become too accustomed to the routine of seeing the sacred objects packed and unpacked: "lest they die" spiritually, losing their capacity to see the tabernacle as holy."

These two opposite concerns represent the balancing act of a spiritual seeker's existence. The structure of our practice keeps our connection to the world, grounding us in a way that lets us work with the sacred and not get swallowed up by it. The joy of the practice keeps our connection to the sacred fresh, reminding us not to take the beauty of the world around us for granted. We strive to live our lives between the two.

Marking Time and Place

היום תשעה ושלשים יומים שהם חמשה שבועות ארבעה יומים לעמר
Today is the thirty-ninth day of the omer - five weeks and four days
נצח שביסוד
A day of endurance in a week of foundation

Just as there are the timeframes that mark the cycles of the year--secular, spiritual, agricultural--there are also the periods of time that mark the flow of life. While the former have a set place and time, the latter are more fluid and subject to change, determined by the life that is marked.

For instance, where I have lived, when I lived there, for how long, and for what percentage of my life marks not only what era I am in, but who I am in that era--as an adolescent, a teenager, an adult, middle-aged, an elder.


At this point, I've spent more years of my life in New York than in San Francisco. The majority of that time was spent in suburbia, but the eight years I lived in Manhattan as a young adult were formative. Even though I've lived in San Francisco for the past 23 years, few people I meet mistake me for anything but a New Yorker.

But the San Francisco years are catching up. As far as numbers go, it recently occurred to me that I have lived in this house longer than I've lived in any one place. And while in San Francisco I am still considered a New Yorker--in New York I often feel very much a San Franciscan.



Two years ago, in a blog post titled State of Origin, I wrote:

Am I a New Yorker or am I a San Franciscan? I suppose I can be both. But I'm still not sure what to answer when asked, "Where are you from??"

I look at that now, and wonder if the better question would be, "Where were you formed?" The answer would still include both, but with the ratio changing as the years go by, my 'formation' is in flux.

Baking Bread

היום שמונא ושלשים יומים שהם חמשה שבועות שלשה יומים לעמר
Today is the thirty-eight day of the omer - five weeks and three days
תפרת שביסוד
A day of compassion in a week of foundation


Two Fridays ago I participated in a fund raiser for Shalom Bayit, "Home of Peace" a Bay Area organization that was formed to " advocate on behalf of Jewish battered women, to educate the Jewish community about domestic violence, and to promote awareness of Jewish issues within the battered women's movement." We gathered in the house of one of Shalom Bayit's supporters to learn to bake challah in creative shapes from a master challah maker, Eva-Lynne Leibman. Eva-Lynne also is co-owner of the Judaica store Dayenu, located in the JCC of San Francisco.

I had a brief fling with baking bread in the late 1980s. I used the Tassajara Bread Book--a great one to learn from, low on the judgemental scale as far as which utensils to use. I remember being surprised at how easy it was. But baking bread was one practice that quickly fell by the wayside. Remember--I live in San Francisco, where good, locally baked bread is readily available. It's not like the choice is home baked or Wonder Bread.

But I had never baked challah, and the proper braiding adds to the intimidation level of the task. But like Ed Brown, the author of the Tassajara Bread Book, Eva-Lynne taught us the basics while letting us know that we could easily make each bread an outlet for our own creativity. She told us that the dough is very forgiving, so don't worry too much about mistakes. And she showed us different ways to form the dough--just let your imagination flow.

I was inspired, and went home to make my own loaves. In the two and a half weeks since the demonstration, I've made three batches of bread. The first one, made that same day as the class, went well enough to make me want to make more. This past Friday I made two more loaves. This time, because of a scheduling glitch, I needed to lengthen the rising process so I let the dough rise twice. That worked well for me. I don't use a food processor since I don't have a bread blade, and I do my mixing my hand. My theory is that there's less air mixed in when I do it by hand so the second rising gives my bread a lightness it wouldn't have otherwise. It may be a bogus theory, but it's mine and I'm sticking to it:)

Today I branched out even more. I used half whole-wheat/half white flour and added lemon zest, juice of said lemon, and fresh rosemary to the mix. The bread came out just fine. I left one bread as a loaf and braided the other. Thanks to Eva-Lynne, my braiding techniques are working. The key--start from the middle. That makes for a great shape. And it was extra special since the lemon and rosemary came from our garden.

My friend Allison remarked that there is something very satisfying about baking bread--a satisfaction unlike any other you get from cooking. I have to agree. Maybe it's the tie to a time in the past when we were much more aware of where our food comes from. Maybe it's because it's something that is perceived to be so difficult, yet is simple in reality. Maybe it's because we feel able to produce something so basic to our lives, relying on ourselves rather than others.

Whatever it is, it is indeed a great feeling of accomplishment--one I recommend you all try. If you'd like the recipe I used, feel free to send me an email.