Showing posts with label spirituality. Show all posts
Showing posts with label spirituality. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 8, 2016

Why I am Celebrating on Election Day 2016


Dear Henry,
       Tonight, Tuesday November 8, 2016, I plan to have a great celebration. I will not be hosting a belated Denver Broncos Super Bowl victory party. Nor will I be throwing myself a belated 31st birthday bash, or even, for that matter, an early 10 year anniversary party. Rather, I will be partying because of the 2016 Election. And not because my candidate is going to win—I think it is safe to say at this juncture that all indications point to the fact that Peyton Manning is in fact too far behind in the polls to make another one of his legendary last minute comebacks. Rather, while millions and millions of Americans will be nauseously watching the results come in, I will be sipping a New Belgium Ben and Jerry’s Cookie Dough Beer, celebrating the profound lesson these elections have taught me. While part of my joy is admittedly that the madness will seemingly come to an end for a couple years, and I no longer have to explain these candidates’ immorality to my children, the real joy is rooted much deeper than that.
         The Talmud teaches us something extremely profound in the Mishnah at the end of Tractate Sotah:

Rabbi Pinchas Ben Yair says: From the time the Temple was destroyed, scholars…have been ashamed, But strong-armed men and Baalei Lashon (literally men of tongue, those whose strength lies in slander and defamation) have triumphed, and there is none who seeks, and none who searches, and none who inquires. Upon whom can we lean? Upon our Father in Heaven…In the period before the Moshiach comes, chutzpah will increase… and the truth will be absent…the face of the generation is like the face of a dog[1]….Upon what, then, can we rely upon? Upon our Father in Heaven!

          One of the great challenges of our affluent, comfortable generation is that we often fall into the trap of thinking that we are in charge. We are running the show, we can rely on ourselves and our own leaders to take care of our well-being. We can fall into the trap of thinking errantly that our society can do it ourselves—we do not need the Almighty’s Divine assistance. Sometimes charismatic leaders arise, that give us hope, and we mistakenly think that they have all the answers.
        This evening, I celebrate and embrace the Divine reminder that this way of thinking is incorrect. As King David writes so eloquently, “Hashem is with me, I have no fear, how can man affect me? It is better to take refuge in Hashem than to rely on man. It is better to take refuge in Hashem than to rely on Nobles.” This election, in which many people report holding their noses as they submit their votes, an election in which many people view the choice as a decision between the lesser of two evils, is a profound reminder that no, in fact, we do not put our hope and trust in the hands of Man (or Woman). It reminds us what the aforementioned Mishna mentions: We rely on the Almighty.
        On Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, we offer the following prayer, which, given the circumstances of our elections, I was able to say with more intensity and concentration than ever before: “Iniquity will close its mouth and all wickedness will evaporate like smoke, when You will remove evil’s dominion from the Earth. Then You, Hashem, will reign alone over all Your works…” May we see soon, speedily in our day, a time where we are living in G-d’s Kingdom, where righteousness triumphs, goodness prevails, and corruption and immorality are merely a distant memory.

Forever yours,
Danny Wolfe


[1] Rabbi Elchanon Wasserman, who quoting the holy Chofetz Chaim explains “the face of the generation are the leaders. A leader must guide the people and be a role model to teach them right from wrong. But in the period before the Moshiach, the leaders will first check to see if their views will be popularly received, like a dog that looks back to see if his master follows.”


Monday, September 7, 2015

How to serve G-d with Joy in a Terrifying World





Dear Peyton, 
        This year, more than any other year in recent memory, the reading of the tochacha, the fateful curses upon the Jewish People comes with a certain dread. Reading how "Hashem will cause you to be struck down before your enemies" and, "your carcass will be food for every bird of the sky and animal of the earth," just isn't sitting so well. Reading about how "Hashem will carry against you a nation from afar, from the end of the earth as an eagle will swoop, a nation whose language you will not understand that will cause you to perish, and besiege you in all your cities, until the collapse of your high and fortified walls in which you trusted throughout your land" cause me to tremble. These verses, which we read every year, remind me of the state in which we currently find ourselves. They remind me of how our government is preparing to give a hateful regime whose sworn to destroy us the green light to develop a nuclear infrastructure. I am no historian, but one thing I have learned as a young man whose great grandparents marched valiantly to the gas chambers, is that when a tyrannical hateful dictator pledges to murder you, we ought to believe him.  
        As we read the tochacha, we are reminded how difficult life can sometimes be. We see this on a national level; we are seeing this on a communal level, and after a ten day stay in the hospital for my precious child, I have seen this on a personal level.
      I believe that it is also of no coincidence that we read of these terrifying curses on the eve of reciting selichos, as we prepare ourselves to stand before G-d in judgment. I have read about how Elul looked in Europe in the 19th and 20th centuries; how there was a dread of aimas hadin in the month preceding Rosh Hashana. The fact that people's lives were in balance was very real to those who lived in Europe; the feeling was palpable. It wasn't until this year that I ever came close to experiencing that fear, that pachad nora. But as I sat earlier this week saying Psalms while my baby was under anesthesia getting her third MRI in a month, I got a glimpse of this fear. I sat there, terrified of what the doctors might find. A feeling of total helplessness overtook me. There was simply nothing I could do to affect the result. For those who aren't aware, an MRI is a Magnetic Resonance  imaging machine which is a medical imaging technique used in radiology to investigate the anatomy and physiology of the body in both health and disease.  And it occurred to me that is exactly what every single one of us experiences on Rosh Hashana. The machzor quotes a Mishnah in Rosh Hashana which portrays a very clear image of what happens on Rosh Hashana: All of humanity stands before Hashem like sheep pass in front of a shepherd who counts and analyzes each sheep." There is no hiding anything from an MRI. On Rosh Hashana G-d analyzes us, and there is nothing that goes unnoticed. This is terrifying.
        Furthermore, the Torah itself gives us a very specific description of why the terrible curses will be unleashed upon the Jewish People. It's not because of our previous propensity towards idol worship. It's not because we neglected Torah Study or were lax in our Shabbos observance. Rather, the Torah says, this fate will fall upon us, "because you did not serve Hashem, your G-d amid gladness and goodness of heart..." The penetrating question that comes to mind, is for one, how can we even function, how can we move on when we are living amid such fear? And even if we are able to cope, how exactly are we supposed to serve Hashem with joy, given the current state of affairs nationally, communally, and personally? How can we be expected to excitedly live our lives as ovdei Hashem given the depressing, downright scary situation we find ourselves in?
       The truth is, I think there are a number of answers to this. One answer is even written explicitly at the beginning of the parsha: "v'samachta b'chol HaTov Asher Nasan Lecha Hashem Elokecha Ul'veysecha..." "You shall rejoice with all the good that Hashem has given to you and your household..." I believe this means you should focus on the amazing things Hashem has blessed you with. No matter how bad you have it, you are still endowed with many special gifts. If you can't hear from one ear, but can hear from another ear, that is a fantastic blessing. If you cannot walk, but can hear and see, that is a priceless gift from G-d. No matter how bad things are, as long as your heart is beating you have what to be enormously grateful for. As we say in Tehillem, and the Gemara in Shabbos brings, "Lo Hameisim Yehallelu Kah...V'anachnu nevareich Ka m'atah v'ad olam..."
       But what I wanted to focus on today was a different way that we can serve G-d with joy, even amid the trepidation we feel in our daily lives. This reason is reflected repeatedly in the Rosh Hashana Liturgy. Through the gorgeous Avinu Malkeinu prayer, we say every single day except Shabbos from Rosh Hashana until Yom Kippur that the One deciding our future, and analyzing us is not only the King of the Universe, but He is also our Father. Our Father, who loves His children more than it is even possible to fathom. It is not some distant, cold judge who is passing judgment upon us, it is our loving Father who only wants what is best for us. 
    On a similar vein, we read the piyut by R' Shlomo ibn Gabriol "Mimcha, Elecha, Evrach." "From you, to you, I escape." This cryptic piyut might very well allude to the fact that as a result of our fear of judgment, we seek to run away from Hakadosh Baruch Hu. But then when we realize that it is our Loving merciful Father that is deciding our fate, we turn around, and escape, find refuge, in His loving embrace. When we understand, and are real with the fact that our Judge is the Almighty, who has a plan for us and the world, and who is only good, we realize that the fear begins to dissipate. 
      On the morning of July 15th, after hearing the terrifying news that my 6 month old daughter Tzippora Bracha had been sent by ambulance to another hospital to treat her severe meningitus, as I drove towards the hospital, with tears flowing down my cheeks, the song that 'randomly' began playing from a list of several thousand songs, was a song by Shlomo Katz called Min Hameitzar. As helpless and utterly alone I felt, as I heard the magical words composed by Dovid Hamelech, "Hashem Li Lo Ira" Hashem is with me, I will not fear." I realized, as Rebbe Nachman said "V'afilu b'hastara, Sh'betoch Hastara B'vadai Gam Sham Nimtza Hasheim yisborach." "Even in a concealment within a concealment, Hashem, may He be blessed, is certainly there." 
         During this frightening time let us not forget that Hashem is with us every step of the way. And let it also not be lost upon us the fact that the MRI comparison is absolutely flawed. Because unlike when a person gets an MRI, in which the person has zero control over the outcome, as we pass before Hashem, we have every opportunity to alter the outcome through heart felt teshuva.
        I would like to conclude with a prayer taken straight from this week's beautiful parsha: "Gaze down, from Your holy abode, from the heavens, and bless Your people, Israel, and the ground that you gave us, as You swore to our forefather, a land flowing with milk and honey." 
May we all have a beautiful kesiva v'chasima Tova.

Forever yours,
Danny Wolfe

Tuesday, May 26, 2015

"Don't Forget, G-d also Made New Jersey"-- Profound Insights on the Garden State Parkway







Dear Henry,
       This past Friday morning, I loaded up Hindy the Hyundai with two suitcases, my four delicious children, and the Better Half, and we set off on the road, traveling to the holy city of Lakewood, NJ for the Jewish holiday of Shavuos, the holiday that commemorates the Jewish People receiving the Torah. Unbeknownst to me, this year, Shavuos coincided neatly with Memorial Day, and it is a major travel weekend. As we set out on the road, I thought, "This will be a piece of cake! Lakewood is 3.25 hours away, my kids are excited to see their cousins, and my wife and I can have some good old fashion chattin' time in the car!" As predicted, the first part of the ride went amazing. The kids were happy eating  the endless supply of snacks we packed, and my wife and I were having heartfelt discussions in which we dissected our dreams, goals and aspirations. We thought, "hey, this is going so swell, why don't we go ahead and stop in Monsey at my favorite Pizza place in the world, Pita Land, the home of the infamous blizzard pizza, the pizza that I am salivating over at this very moment, just by writing about it." Sure enough, we stopped there, and we savored the delicious pizza, sushi, and these little heavenly doughy balls rolled in powdered sugar. After that, we stopped at a book store, to pick up some inspiring Jewish books, and then we hit the road for what should have been an hour and a half drive down to Lakewood. As soon as we hit the Garden State Parkway, we were stopped in bumper to bumper traffic. I thought, that's strange, we are we literally stopped on Friday at 1:00 PM? At 1:01 I turned on 1010 Wins, and my boy Pete Toriello informed me that due to Memorial Day weekend, traffic everywhere was awful. Still, I didn't understand why so many thousands of cars were going to New Jersey. Like, I hear they might want to travel to New York, Vermont, Connecticut, heck, even Pennsylvania. But I was unable to fathom why so many people were traveling to New Jersey.
        Regardless, I tried to stay optimistic, and I announced in the car, as we were literally stopped in stop and go traffic, "Don't worry kiddos and Better Half, we only have another 95 miles to go on this lovely highway!" And right as my optimism bucket had reached its peak, my lovely, perfect 4 month old daughter started screaming. But Henry, I am not referring to the type of screaming that I do when riding a roller coaster or tubing down a massive Vail Mountain tubing run.  I mean like shrieking. The type of shrieking I did in Washington heights when I first saw a cockroach. But at least that shrieking I did stopped after two minutes. Little Tzippy, or Zippy is I sometimes lovingly refer to her was not just shrieking for two minutes. Because two minutes became three minutes. And three minutes became five minutes. and five minutes became six minutes. And six minutes became seven minutes. After about fifteen minutes of listening to unrelenting shrieking, I thought, gee, our 30 hour cross country road trip in July is just going to be lovely! And then I thought, maybe if I roll down all of our windows, the sound of traffic will make everything better and, maybe the cars will hear her and move out of my way so I can get there already. Surprisingly, my strategy did not pay off.
       After about 20 minutes of this, the Garden State Parkway split off into express lanes, and local lanes. I thought, for sure everyone is going to be in the local lanes so they can get off the highway whenever they want! I will go ahead in the express lane, and then get their very fast! Sure enough, I was wrong. And as I saw the cars in the local plane flying past me, as we were stuck literally not moving, I became enraged with jealousy. I longed to get to the local lanes. I hoped that those cars in the local lanes would slow down, so that I would be the one gliding past them. Eventually, I got to the local lane, and I did in fact cruise past the suckers in the express lane, and it felt amazing. I even literally stuck my hand out the window and waved to them as I passed them by, leaving them like dust in the metaphorical wind. And then I stopped again, and they sped up, and I felt the rage returning like an unwanted centipede who invades your bathroom.
       And I realized, dearest Henry, how messed up I was acting. Judaism has a lot to say about this lovely episode on the Parkway. Firstly, the Talmud teaches that jealousy is one of the absolute worst character traits a person can have. A jealous person can never be content. He is always comparing himself to others. If he is making $100,000, and his neighbor is at $115,000, his very respectable $100,000 is almost meaningless to him. He is driven to get the $115,000 his friend has. Jealousy ruins people, causes them to lose rationality, and their ability to think. If a person is not happy with his lot, and is not happy with what he has, he will live a life of misery. Living a life constantly comparing yourself to others is no way to live a life.
       In addition, the Torah teaches famously that we have to love our neighbors like we love ourselves. That is a very difficult commandment to keep; how exactly can we be expected to love everyone like we love ourselves? Some commentaries explain that we should genuinely be happy for people in their triumphs, just like we would be happy for ourselves. When our neighbor gets a raise, we should be happy for him. When our cousin has a child after being married for a year, even though we have not been successful in having children despite trying for the last five years, we should be happy for them. When our roommate we have been living with for the last five years gets engaged, while I am still not, I should be genuinely happy for her. And when the cars are cruising past me in the local lane, I should be happy for them.
        Finally, another lesson to learn is that Judaism teaches that not only did G-d create the world, but He continually runs it and sustains it, and He is involved in each and every one of our lives in an extremely intimate way. When the traffic is rough, and the baby is screaming, this is the situation that G-d wants me to be in right now. He doesn't want me looking around, focussing on how so many more people have it better for me. He wants me to keep focussed on the road ahead, and work with what I have,  to make the best of it, and remember that this is an opportunity for me to grow and ultimately become closer to Him.  Henry, keep in mind they don't call me Rabbi D-Swolle for nothing. I am not brolic by going to the gym and lifting the bar a few times. I am huge because when I go the gym, I load up that bad boy with a large number of plates, and I move the weight. I sweat. Heck, I shvitz. I grunt. It's hard. But thats how I grow; thats how I am huge. I need to focus on moving the weight above me at this very moment; not focus on how that little guy over there is easily benching fifty pounds.
       As we were finally getting closer to our destination, and I was mumbling about New Jersey under my breath, the Better Half profoundly said, "Don't forget, G-d also made New Jersey." Indeed, He did make New Jersey, and I am darn grateful He taught me so many darn profound life insights from my short stay there.

Forever Yours,
Danny Wolfe






Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Slow Down Cowboy








Dear Henry,
       A funny thing happened on the way to the mountains. There I was, in the early hours of a gorgeous Rocky Mountain Wednesday morning. I was leading a group of eight incredible college students from New York on a spring break trip to Colorado, and on this particular morning on this particular day  we were driving to the mountains for a two day ski trip.  Everything was going as planned until about twenty minutes into our journey. As I was cruising at 65 MPH in the left lane, soaring like a speedy Zebra coasting across a Zimbabwe Safari, I suddenly noticed a sea of red break lights ahead. A few minutes later I noticed everyone was switching lanes, getting out of that left lane, because there was an accident there. "Oh great," thought I. Now I'm going to need to do a fancy maneuver they taught me in driving school fourteen years ago to be able to switch into the center lane with this massive van I am driving. I immediately signaled to switch lanes, and then something more unexpected than the series finale to The OC happened: the guy let me in. The dude let me switch lanes, and he didn't even creep up and pretend he wasn't going to let me in like they do in New York. He just stopped his vehicle and waved me in. 
       My mouth literally dropped. I couldn't believe it . Here was a driver driving to work in rush hour traffic; presumably he had somewhere important to be. And yet, some how, some way, he wholeheartedly let me go in front of him, with no hesitation whatsoever. I truly couldn't believe it. I woke up the unsuspecting sleeping passenger next to me to alert her what was going on. 
     This experience, and driving through Colorado, a state in which drivers egregiously go under the speed limit in the left lane, taught me the very important life lesson to SLOW DOWN, and I believe it is critical to do so for three reasons. Firstly, we need to slow down to constantly evaluate and confirm that we are going down the appropriate path. Many of us are programmed from kindergarten that we need to go to school to learn how to be a lawyer or doctor, or accountant,  and then do this profession to make money, and then to make money to be able to retire and go on vacation. But do we necessarily know to pause, and ask ourselves a) if we are happy in the profession we are pursuing and b) what's the point of it all? Do we ever pause and try to figure out how to be in a loving relationship or how to be a good parent? In life, we need to slow down, to pause, and reflect. In Judaism we have an opportunity to do so once a week every week: we have Shabbos, a sabbath in which we put everything away to reflect on what is truly important, and to take stock of our lives.
      The other reason a person should slow down is that when he goes to fast, many times he loses his rationality and ability to make wise decisions. For example, when a driver on the East Coast decides he's not letting someone in front of him in, and he wrecklessly tails the car in front of him, he is endangering himself and everyone else on the road. When a businessman in Manhattan is walking 20 MPH to get to his meeting on time, body checking the unsuspecting photo-snapping tourist in the mean time, he is not thinking so rationally. The Talmud teaches that a person should be "slow to judgement." If I am adjudicating a case I shouldn't come up with any rash verdicts; I am enjoined to methodically understand each side, and take my time before issuing a ruling. Life is complex, we need to slow down and use our brains. Today, in this high strung world, where technology allows us to find out everything we want in an instant, this wisdom is more applicable than ever. I remember one time I was sent a rather annoying email, and from my fake I-phone I was preparing an instant response. Luckily I took a deep breath, and slept on it, and in the end did not send the email that I would have surely regretted having sent.
      Finally, we all need to take a deep breath, and slow down, so that we can enjoy, and bask in the beautiful world that G-d has given us. I remember one time walking to work in the streets of Manhattan, and I looked up above the storefronts to see all of these incredible skyscrapers--wondrously crafted, stunning buildings. I said to myself, Dan-o, that's crazy. You have been walking past these same buildings every single day, and yet you never once noticed that there was something beyond the restaurants and storefronts on the street level. Once I slowed down and looked up, I realized there was a whole new world beyond what I ever stopped to recognize. Last Friday night, as the rabbi was saying Kiddush, I couldn't get over the gorgeous deep blue sky in the background. I recall thinking I never recall having seen such a shade of blue before. In life, many times we are too busy and running around like chickens with our heads cut off; totally oblivious to the wondrous world in which we live. What good is the beauty if it goes unnoticed, unappreciated?
      Granted, somethings in life you might want to just "speed through," to get it over with, like a routine visit to the dentist office, or the New York Jets season. But life is not one of those things.  It is too short to run through with our head down as quickly as we can. Life is beautiful, so, as we say out West, "Slow down, Cowboy!"

Sincerely,
Danny Wolfe




Thursday, March 26, 2015

Close Call on I-87






Dear Henry,
      Three and a half weeks ago, my Better Half, six-week old daughter, and myself went to a beautiful wedding in New Jersey. While it was a 2.5 hour drive, we love weddings, and were excited to attend. Little did I know, as we set off for New Jersey, that this day would change our lives. What I am about to write, oh Henry, is kind of personal. I am going through with writing it, because in life, inspiration does not last. It is as fleeting as a shooting star, quickly darting across the vast sky in the Utah Canyon lands.  I therefore am writing this as a reminder to myself of this inspiring, life-changing day, so that I can take some concrete steps to hold on to the inspiration.
      About an hour into our lovely ride down to the weddng, a ride which I savored because I was able to have alone time with my lovely wife, and we were able to speak without any interruptions, I noticed it began snowing. No big deal, thought I, we live in upstate New York, it snows every day, I am an expert driver in the snow, and we have All Wheel Drive. As we got closer and closer to the wedding, the snow became heavier and heavier. Still, I remained unfazed. At the wedding, I checked my phone for weather updates, and realized that the snow was not really letting up; there were winter advisories for the entire New York City area until 3 AM that night. To put it simply, it was a winter wonderland out there.
       After the beautiful wedding, we got some very cheap New Jersey gas, and were on the road. It started off uneventful enough. We took a dinner stop near Monsey NY, and shortly thereafter, were on the road again. About fifteen minutes after leaving Monsey, I was annoyed as the grandmotherly driver in front of me was driving about twenty miles per hour. We were on the portion of the highway which has three lanes, and I switched from the center lane to the left lane, preparing for what I thought would be a routine lane change in which I would pass her. It started off as expected, but as I attempted to change back to the center lane, something unexpected occurred. As I began switching lanes, at about 50 MPH, the car, who I call Hindy the Hyundai started to swerve, and I lost control of her. To our utter horror, we did a complete 180 degree turn, and as we came to a stop, we were dreadfully facing oncoming traffic, on this busy, three lane section of the New York Thruway. At this point, the only words we could muster were, "Hashem!! (G-d!!)," as we braced for impact. After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, just waiting for the end, and witnessing car after car miraculously pass us by, my Better Half came up with an idea that might well have saved our lives. She told me to immediately turn on the emergency  blinking lights, and to start honking non stop, to alert the oncoming cars. Through nothing short of the grace of the Almighty, car after car drove past us, I turned the car back around, and we were on our merry way without even a scratch on our car.
      My heart was beating faster than the Colorado Rockies will tank this upcoming season, and I was truthfully, unsure that we were still among the living. I had read some crazy stories of near death experiences, and as an observant Jew I fervently believe in the eternity of the soul, and I was unsure where I was. I pinched myself, and asked my Better Half if we were still alive. She started laughing, in a pure expression of ecstasy, and explained that we were in fact still alive. As we passed a minor car accident on the side of the road, I realized how fortunate we were; as the cars were approaching I would have given anything to only suffer a minor accident; and yet here we were, totally unscathed.
      From this experience, oh Henry, I came across ten important lessons that I want to share with you tonight:
1) I realized, without any shadow of a doubt, that miracles still exist today. As the holiday of Passover approaches, a holiday in which we remember the incredible miracles G-d did for us in taking us out of the bondage of Egypt, I am able to reflect on my own, personal miracle--the fact that I am able to write this blogg at this very moment. Every car that passed me and didn't hit me was a miracle. It would have only taken one person reaching over for a drink, looking away from the road, texting, or changing the radio station, and everything could have ended differently. If we would have left from our previous stop thirty seconds earlier or later, everything could have been different. We just "happened" to be on the short three lane section of the Thruway, leaving ample room for every car to swerve around me. After this experience I have no doubt that G-d still is in the business of performing miracles for His beloved children.
 2)      A second lesson I learned, with clarity, is that there is nothing but G-d. My first words after we turned around, were, "Ain Od Milvado." There is simply nothing but G-d. I trusted my fancy shmancy All Wheel Drive; but at the end of the day, I am only here; as are all of my thousands upon thousands of my devoted readers across the globe, as a result of G-d's will, and G-d alone.  We put our trust in gadgets, and technology, but at the end of the day, it all comes down to G-d. As the dollar bill says, "In G-d we Trust."
3)      A third lesson I learned was that it is important to ask ourselves, on a regular basis, "have I accomplished everything I hope to?" As the cars were rapidly approaching us, I realized that there is so much more I want to accomplish in my life. The talmud teaches, "If not now, when?" The commentators explain, if I do not accomplish now, in this physical world, when can I? After a person dies and is removed from his body, he can no longer accomplish anything-- that is the tragedy of death. As a poet once said, "If you had one shot, or one opportunity to seize everything you ever wanted, would you capture it, or let it slip, yo."
4)     On a similar note, a fourth profound lesson I learned is that I need to simply stop wasting so much time. Now with the invention of the smart phone, time wasting is easier, and more addicting than ever. But do I really need to spend so much time reading ESPN articles? Does it really matter in the big scheme of things that Lebron James doesn't care that Kevin Love thinks Russell Westbrook is the NBA MVP? Is reading about that an acceptable use of my precious time? This experience showed me that we are very, very mortal. We need to be real with that. We often go through our early years thinking we are invincible; but our invincibility is simply an illusion. Like every human being before us, we will one day die. We need to think about that, and use our time accordingly.
5)     Another critical lesson I learned is that I am here for a reason. I was in a situation in which G-d could have very easily decided that my time was up. Yet somehow, He miraculously spared me. This is true of all of us. If we are still here; if our hearts are still palpitating, we have a mission that we must set out to accomplish. A great rabbi named Rabbi Kook explains that before a person is born, there is no point in his being alive, because his mission and life assignment did not yet exist. Once he is born, there is a mission created that hey--and only he-- can fulfill. If G-d forbid a person is not fulfilling his mission, than what exactly is the point for him to remain in the world? We need to make sure to focus on fulfilling our life's mission.
6)    I also learned that there is a spiritual reality going on that I cannot perceive with all of my senses; yet I know it is still there. Just as there are constantly sound waves traveling around that I cannot see, or touch, and yet I know they are present, so too there is a spiritual reality that exists, despite my inability to see it, or touch it. I came to realize this when I began asking the question, in what merit were we saved? We definitely have no way of knowing how G-d runs the world, but perhaps we were spared because the Better Half made a heartfelt tefillas haderech before we left-- a blessing praying for our well being as we embarked upon our journey. Or, perhaps we were saved as a result of a young rabbi's blessing to us. At the wedding I had struck up a great conversation with a rabbi at our table, and before we got up to leave, he asked for me to bless him. Caught off guard, I muttered the first thing that came to my mind. I asked him to return the favor, and he proceeded to give me one of the most beautiful blessings I ever heard in my life. In Judaism we assume words are very powerful; they can build people up, or G-d forbid, tear them down. In this case, his kind words might have saved our lives. There is a spiritual reality, and our every action has massive ramifications of which we are usually unable to perceive.
7)      At the same time though, while it is important to consider what might have been the merit that saved us, it is also important to realize that it was G-d Himself who put us in this precarious situation to begin with. Why might that be? There is a concept called making a Cheshbon HaNefesh, literally an accounting of the soul. It is important to look back and break down what we do, and how we can improve. Again, without knowing how G-d works and does what He does, I did realize I had done something on this particular night that I had never done before. About fifteen minutes before we skidded on the road, I for the first time ever, trolled a journalist on twitter. In Judaism, there is no place for "trolling" or cruelty. This was a lesson I will not forget.
 8)     Of all the lessons I learned, what very well might have been the most crucial one, is that by the mere fact that we are alive, we necessarily have SO much to be happy about. In the initial moments after the close call, I was shaken up. The next day though, I was simply euphoric. I woke up, and gleefully kissed my children before going to synagogue. At synagogue, I said an emotional blessing one says after surviving a dangerous situation. When I got home after synagogue, my children were fretting about not having eaten enough breakfast; they were very near throwing a full blown temper tantrum. The old Danny would have been annoyed; but the new Danny was overjoyed as my son threw a fit for not being allowed to eat a pot of oatmeal two minutes before we were meant to leave for school. As I put my kids in the car, my two year old son demanded to close the door, as he always does. The problem, is that he doesn't know how to put on his seatbelt by himself, and he cannot close the door while strapped in. So he threw a fit. The old Danny would get agitated, but on this day, I exuded pure joy at being able to witness his antics. After I dropped my kids off at school, I listened intently to the gorgeous sound of the wind blowing on this sunny twenty-five degree day. Usually I would have been super annoyed that it was still so freezing despite the fact that it was now March. Today, I had tears streaming down my face, savoring the spine tingling, bone chilling wind. As I approached my house, I heard a loud garbage truck screechy breaks. I started crying again, so overjoyed to hear that magical sound. I said out loud in my car, "My name is Danny Wolfe, and I am ALIVE! At the end of the day, when my children got home, I ran to great them. So many days go by where they get home and I barely look up from the computer. But not today, today I was a new person. I would run around the house looking for ways to help my wife, pick up the toys, do diapers, etc... Of course I wanted to help out, after all I am alive! This day was nothing short of living a day of unadulterated ecstasy.
9)      A ninth lesson I learned is very crucial, and it can be easily summed up by an important acronym: JLIG: Just Let It Go, or if you prefer, IJNWI: It's Just Not Worth It. So many of us are fighting with people over the most petty of things. But I got news for you; we are alive; just let it go! When the cars were approaching me, how much did the beef I had with anyone matter? What if something terrible happened to someone I had a conflict with? Then how would l I feel? JLIG. Just let it go. Life is too short to hold petty grudges. IJNWI: It's Just Not Worth It.
10)     Finally, a 10th Lesson I learned is that, as Maimonides says, it is very important for a person to take care of himself. We need to make sure we are eating healthy, and exercising, so we can continue to operate in this world, and remain healthy, viable human beings. Life is short, and we need to take care of ourselves. We have a mission we must accomplish. I need to make sure I can be around to raise my children, and to love and cherish my wife. It is crucial that we take care of ourselves.
     I learned, dear Henry, that being alive is not simple. Everyone reading this blogg, regardless how difficult your life is, has so much to be grateful for, not only because you're are once again being dazzled by my brilliance, but really by mere virtue of your being alive.
     This Passover, as we celebrate G-d's miracles He did for us years ago, I will be celebrating my own miracles He performed for me, and my own rebirth into an appreciative dude who is simply so happy to be here. A few days ago I returned to upstate New York after a Spring Break trip to Denver, where it was seventy degrees the whole time. As I was greeted by sixteen degree freezing weather, I was tempted to complain about the contrast, and living in New York. But I stopped, and realized that if my biggest problems and annoyances are the weather, then I am the most fortunate man alive. With so much in life to be overjoyed about, I have no excuses to complain. After all, I am still alive.

Sincerely,
Danny Wolfe








Saturday, February 7, 2015

Have you ever Looked at a Snowflake?








Dear Hank,
      This morning as I was walking home from synagogue on a lengthy two mile trek, I decided I would utilize this time for some good old fashion Danny Time. A great rabbi mentor of mine often spoke about how we live in a world where we are scared to be left to ourselves, constantly flanked with our Beats by Dre or Monster DNA headphones as the case may be, scared of silence, preferring to go to clubs where they blast "house music"which to my untrained ears simply sounds like a drunk dude banging on some dirty pots and pans. As I was walking up the street, I literally stopped in my tracks, much like a little deer cub named Bambi would stop in her tracks at the sight of a red Ford pickup truck speeding quickly towards her on an empty highway somewhere in Montana,  as one single, elegant snow flake danced down from heaven, and landed on my trendy Macy's jacket I purchased five years ago in a mall in SoCon (Southern Connecticut). I looked, and literally stopped walking, despite it being freezing, and awkwardly admired the single snow flake that fell on my black coat. It looked like a hexagon from 11th grade geometry class on Barry Bonds' steroids, decorated to perfection with little flowers and branches on each prong of the hexagon. My mouth literally dropped open in sheer admiration at this single snowflake, basking in G-d's brilliance. At first I thought this snow flake was possibly an aberration or some sort of fluke, or thread stitched into my jacket, but as the snow kept magically descending, I literally stopped to admire it  in the middle of the street another five times, and each time, the snow flakes were as perfectly symmetrical as the time before.  I was immediately reminded of the Rambam's (Maimonides) timeless words when he wrote, "How does one come to love and be in awe of G-d? By contemplating His wondrous actions and creations, and discerns in them His brilliance which has no end, immediately he will love and praise...and desire tremendously to know His Great Name." By contemplating G-ds creations in nature,  in the form of this pristine, perfect snow flake, I felt like I had attained a closeness to Him that rivals the feeling of closeness and connection I felt to G-d on Yom Kippur, or while I was praying at the holy Western Wall.
      This transformative and powerful experience reminded me of a very powerful lesson. The truth is, being from the great Rocky Mountain State, and then moving to the East Coast, I have seen my fair share of snow. I probably have experienced hundreds of snowy days in my years. And yet, I don't think I ever once stopped to acknowledge its beauty and how wondrous of a creation that G-d had made. Usually I complain about how it complicates our lives, messes up the roads or makes my socks wet and smelly; but I never had noticed its sheer purity, beauty, and immense detail. Once I did notice it though, it totally transformed my perspective, my mood and my overall well being. And I ask myself, how many other things are there in the world that I simply have never bothered to notice?  How many other wondrous creations did the Almighty gift wrap for me to enjoy that I simply ignored? It is incumbent upon us all to look in the mirror honstly and ask one simple question: Have we ever looked at a snowflake?

Forever yours,
Danny Wolfe



Tuesday, December 2, 2014

EPIC RANT



Dear Henry,
      For a laundry list of reasons, I do not own a television. There are a whole bunch of reasons for why I choose to not own a television. One of them, is that I do not want to see the commercials, and have their messages and values seep into my soul.
      You see, dear Hank, I was recently tricked. I have a Iphone 4s. And on that Iphone 4s there is an incredible app called NFL Mobile. The nice thing about NFL Mobile is that it allows me to watch most Broncos games this season, the season when they will finally win that elusive Super Bowl (you heard it here first.) What the ITunes store neglected to warn me, however, when I purchased the app for free, was that with the Broncos games, came commercials. With the commercials, came very, very messed up values.
      For example, the following commercial promoting an app called NFL NOW probably airs 130 times a game on the NFL Mobile App. And about the 27th time, it hit me how convoluted it was. The commercial can be found here, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Om4AoXZEAVw
goes as follows:
"Now listen up NFL, I want the NFL the way I want it, and I want it now! I want my team, I want my own stream! I want highlights and breaking news my way...."
      Apparently, this app allows people to watch updated videos about their teams they root for. The message is clearly that I shouldn't be bothered and inconvenienced to have to wait for the NFL news that interests me.  If I want something now, I should get it now. I shouldn't have to wait. Not only shouldn't I have to wait, but I shouldn't have to undergo the nuisance of having to watch news about other teams that I don't care about. Like, who cares that Geno Smith throws the football like a third grade school girl? And why should I have to suffer through watching "highlights" from the Giants debacle against Jacksonville? Everything in the world revolves around my convenience. This ego mania promoting commercial is indeed very troublesome, and I believe antithetical to Jewish values.
       We live in a world of instant gratification, and we cannot be bothered to work or struggle for things anymore. We cannot wait for things any more.  Long gone are the days of sitting for 3 minutes waiting for your AOL 3.0 to dial up to the internet. Gone are the days of dialing 10 digits to reach someone on the telephone. In Judaism however, we assume that spiritual pleasure is the most intense, real, long lasting pleasure there is. When biting into a steak, the pleasure is immediate, but long forgotten 30 seconds later. It is fleeting. When visiting the elderly, doing a mitzvah,  or keeping kosher, the pleasure is not necessarily immediate-- but it is eternal. We believe in an afterlife in which we are rewarded for our efforts in this world-- even if that reward comes 120 years after the initial action.
        Now instead of having to bother speaking to someone I simply text them, in order to avoid the inconvenience of a real conversation. And if I do want to burden myself to speak to a person, Baruch Hashem there is a new app called Glide, which enables me to speak to them, leaving a video message, without having to go through the burdensome back and forth of a real live conversation in which I would actually have to listen and respond to what they say in real time.
      And furthermore, the other day I was speaking to my friend who was complaining to me about the very unfortunate reality that when using an Iphone in order to respond via text to a missed recent call, you have to press two buttons, in essence moving your right index finger a tiresome two times. In contrast, the new, handy dandy Droid, enables you to only have to suffer through one click, instead of two. Similarly, the Droid has the nifty Glide feature when texting, which means that its users no longer have to suffer through picking up their fingers between typing individual letters. I personally am strongly considering switching over so I won't have to continue soaking my index finger in a bag of ice, after it is so sore from a long day of moving up and down between letters of text messages.
      Lets say that swiping instead of typing, and one click instead of 2,  saves a person 1 minute a day, or 7 minutes a week. I hear the value of such time saving technology if we ACTUALLY DO SOMETHING WITH THOSE 7 minutes! But what are we doing with the time saved? Are we using it to go pick up the trash littering our streets, helping old ladies cross the street, going out and having a meaningful conversation with a homeless person, visiting the sick, saving the whales, making a blessing, or baking blueberry muffins for our new neighbors? Or are we egregiously wasting them reading ridiculous articles on ESPN about how Lebron James decided not to toss some baby powder in the air any more before his basketball games?
      I suffer from this more than anyone. And that's why today was a blessed day-- when I arrived at work, I saw to my utter  horror that both my Ipad and my Iphone were out of battery, and I forgot my battery charger at home, and no one except for me still uses the Iphone 4S, so no one had a charger to lend me. So something weird happened-- when I spoke to people, I didn't rudely, constantly stare down at my phone like I usually do. Between meetings I didn't throw my precious time out the window by reading nonsense on the internet-- I actually used my brain. I thought. I tried to figure out where I stand on current events, relevant issues going in in Furgeson, Israel, and across the globe. It was mind-blowing.
     I encourage you, my thousands upon thousands of devoted readers across the vast expanse of globe to think about this epic rant, and figure out how it can apply to you. Maybe you also suffer from ego-mania. Maybe you waste more time than you should. Maybe you try to take every shortcut you can rather than truly toiling and working for something. Whatever it is, in life we need to try to identify areas in which we can improve, and to grow to become better people.
    Forever yours,
    Danny Wolfe



Thursday, August 8, 2013

Olympic Figure Skating, Ms. Pacman, and the Shofar

Dear Henry,
      I wanted to share with you a little known fact about me, that you might not even be aware of. That fact, is that when I was four years old, I embarked upon a long path of competitive figure skating. Momma and Dad would take me to the rink, 6 days a week, every morning at 6:00 AM before school, and I would practice my routines. I would do triple and quadruple axles, double toe-loups, I had even mastered the biellmann position, and even the twizzle (my nizzle). I worked very hard from age four until sixteen, when I had qualified for the US National olympic team. It was very exciting, I was set to perform in Salt Lake City, only a few hundred miles from my home city, Denver Colorado. All my loved ones were gathered to watch me perform. It was also electrifyingly exciting, because I was the heavy favorite for the gold metal.
        I could not contain my excitement as my family gathered in the arena right before I was meant to perform. I was going to be performing to my favorite singer-- Celine Dion's heart-warming version of my favorite love song of all time, "Beauty and the Beast." At that point in life, I had not even stopped to contemplate the disturbing meaning of that song. As I sat waiting in the changing room for my big moment for which I dedicate the last 12 years of my life, I noticed, that right off the locker room, was a game room. I realized I still had about fifteen minutes till showtime-- so I went to take a look. To my utter delight, they had my favorite arcade game on the planet-- Ms. Pacman-- and it did not cost a thing. I went over, and started playing. One thing lead to another, I beat level after level, I was zoned in, until I finally heard on the loud Speakers, "DANNY WOLFE, you are up! WHERE ARE YOU?" I looked at my watch, and to my complete horror, realized I was supposed to be on the ice seven minutes ago. To my tremendous agony, I had been disqualified.
        Henry, obviously, this story is not true. If I were an olympian for any sport it would clearly be for weight-lifting. However, I think the message of this story is very powerful, and timely. Yesterday morning was Rosh Chodesh Elul, the first day of the month of Elul. You see, Rosh Chodesh Elul means that Rosh Hashana is just one month away, and every morning in synagogue from Rosh Chodesh Elul until Rosh Hashana (with the exception of Shabbos) the shofar is blown. Yesterday, as I heard the sound of the shofar, I got the chills, and I started to literally shake. After not hearing that holy, powerful sound in a full year, it really woke me up. It was very powerful. In one month, we are all coming to be judged by the Judge of all Judges. It is said that in Pre-War Europe this time was incredibly intense. People really began working on improving their relationship with the Almighty, and their relationships with each other. They began intensely trying to perfect their character traits. If someone struggled with anger, they worked very hard to obliterate anger from themselves. If people were haughty, they worked on becoming more humble.
     To not fault of our own, we live in a completely different world. From a very young age we are told that we must go to school. After school we are told we have to go to more school. After more school we are told we must go to graduate school. After Grad school, we get jobs. After working a few years, we get married. Then when we hit our 40s we realize that we hate our job, we do not know our spouse, and we have no idea how we got here, or what the heck we are doing with our lives. This is called a midlife crisis. This is called sleepwalking through life.
      The Rambam writes that the shofar awakens us from our slumber.
      Every morning in the month of Elul, and on Rosh Hashana, we are awoken from our slumber by the powerful, awesome blast of the shofar. It is up to us if we are going to hit the snooze button, or actually wake up and get out of bed. If only in my olympic story, someone would have given me a reminder before my performance! Then I could have gotten ready. Right now, with the shofar we are getting that reminder. Right now we should be thinking about what we can change to become better people. Maybe my relationship with my parents can use some mending, and I should call them more. Maybe I should not have said that nasty remark to my sibling, or my ex-best friend and it is time to apologize. Maybe its time to think about something I can do to get closer to G-d, whether its study Torah with a rabbi, start to pray routinely, light Shabbos candles, or take on more Shabbos observances.
      I challenge you, Oh Henry, and my thousands upon thousands of readers in countries like America, Mexico, Canada, Russia, Spain, Germany, and Israel, to write down two things, right now, that starting tonight, you will start working on to become that incredible person that the Almighty knows you are destined to become.
     One month from now is the most important time of the year. It is our turn at the olympics. We have been building up the whole year, for this powerful moment.
     Are we going to show up, or play Ms. Pacman?

    Forever Yours,
    Danny Wolfe



Sunday, July 21, 2013

Business Trips and Stupid Cellphones

7-21-2013

Dear Henry,
       Tomorrow morning I embark upon another 'business trip' which requires flying somewhere, and saying goodbye to my family for a few days. This morning, as I received a call from a computer who works for United Airlines, kindly asking me if I cared to have him/her check me in, (see my post for a more vivid account of computers who talk to me http://rabbidannywolfe.blogspot.com/2013/02/life-lessons-from-humble-virtual.html ), I was reminded of the last time I went away on a 'business trip' away from the family. Heck, it was only like 10 days ago, so its hard to forget.
       Basically, two weeks ago I attended a conference with over 100 other immensely talented rabbis not unlike myself,  and then had some other internal meetings. I began to notice as I went away, that it was very hard to keep in touch with my other half, my lovely, beautiful wife, (see http://rabbidannywolfe.blogspot.com/2013/04/stay-at-home-dad.html for more on this), and my delicious sweet, precious children. Paradoxically, I found it even harder to keep in touch with them on my local business trip, than when I go to Israel for birthright trips. On a birthright trip, with my wife seven-hours behind me, by the time my day was over, and ready for bed, she was available to talk, just having fed the kids dinner. And I would be able to see (via Skype) my beautiful family before falling fast asleep, after a jam-packed day shlepping around Israel. I would then set my alarm to a very early hour in the morning, so that I would catch my wife right before she goes to sleep, and she would catch me up more on what happened in the last 6 hours, and I would catch her up, on what happened in my last 6 hours--admittedly, not too much.  I would thus cap my mornings, and my evenings with the daily hi-lights of my trip-- seeing my beautiful family. Henry, right about now, you might be asking where exactly I am going with this whole shpiel. Heck-- I'm asking myself where I am going with this whole thing. The point is, that not being on the same schedule--being an ocean apart-- made it easier to be in touch-- precisely because we were not on the same schedule.
       Two weeks ago, being in meetings and sessions all day, it was darn near impossible to be in touch with my wonderful, beautiful, sweet, adorable, and adoring, wife and kids. Being in the same time zone, we were both going, nonstop, all day.  By the time I was ready to shluffie, she had been sleeping for a few hours. I would call her early in the morning, but she is physical unable to speak, or move, in the mornings. Six and a half of the best years of my life (marriage) has taught me that not everyone is a chipper morning person like yours truly.  However, while I was on a trip to Israel, we didn't have this problem, because when I was waking up, at 6:00 AM, so was she- at 11:00 PM.
      The point of that awkwardly long introduction was that I learned from my last trip that it was darn hard to be in touch with my beautiful, adorable, loving family. And that was very hard. So on Thursday morning, after having been gone since Monday morning, I made sure to be at the airport super early, as I could not physically wait anymore to see my family. My kids were pumped up for me to pick them up from camp, and my wife was just as excited to see my beautiful, aging face. All of us were ecstatic to at long last catch up on the last 5 days. When I finally got to the gate, after waiting in a very long line, they were advertising that the flight was overbooked, and they were offering a $500 flight voucher if anyone would volunteer their seat. My flight was leaving at 8:30 AM- the next one was leaving at 3:00 PM, getting to Cleveland at 5:00. Apparently, no one was all that impressed with the $500 offer, so United bumped it up to offering $700 to anyone who gave up their seat. I didn't blink. It wasn't worth it. I told my kids I would pick them up from camp- golly-- I was going to pick them up from camp, and no amount of money was going to deter me. I later realized that my flight got in at around 10:30 AM. My kids got out of camp at about 3:00 PM. Thus- if I would have taken the $700, and gotten in at 5:00-- I would have only missed out on two hours of quality time with my kids, who would be eagerly waiting in the car to pick me up from the airport, if I opted for the later flight. And yet, as I look back, those two extra hours with the kids was worth every penny of the $700 that United tried to give me in order to sacrifice those two precious hours. I would choose spending two hours with my children, all day, every day, over a lousy $700 flight voucher from United.
       Once I made this realization, oh Henry, I learned a very valuable lesson that applies not only to my own life, but likely also to the lives of those thousands of my devoted readers out there in Canada, Israel, Turkey, India, and the United Arab Emirates. And that is, Henry, that time in general-- and quality time with loved ones in particular-- is a very, very valuable gift. Certainly more valuable than a $700 flight. So I asked myself when I caught myself reading ESPN on my Iphone 4S, while playing with my kids-- what the heck am I doing? Now I have the privilege of interacting with my delicious children, and I am reading about a Gators Linebacker who got arrested for barking at a police dogg? Are you kidding me? How can I waste such a precious gift-- this valuable time with my children? How many of us don't know our loved ones because we are too busy watching TV with them, instead of interacting and communicating with them? How much of us would only have a conversation with a loved one, if only we both wouldn't constantly be checking our text messages? How many of us are spending more time with angry birds than we are with our increasingly angry loved ones and family members? Its time that all of us-- yours truly especially included-- leave the phones upstairs, and start enjoying and experiencing the ones we love.
       If I can pass up on $700 at the expense of losing two hours with my family, doesn't it make sense that I should also be able to pass up on Facebook for a few lousy hours? We all cognitively know what's really important in life. Its about time we start living according to this basic understanding. Henry, For a MINIMUM of thirty minutes a day, commit to turn off your stupid cellphone. It will change all of our lives.
         My name is Danny Wolfe, and I approve this Message.

         Sincerely,
         Danny Wolfe