Showing posts with label Judaism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Judaism. 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.”


Tuesday, July 5, 2016

Ignorance is NOT Bliss





Dear Henry,
     This past Thursday, June 30, I was in very high spirits. I found myself sitting on an outdoor patio meeting a friend, on an uncommonly cool day in Boulder, Colorado, nursing an ice cold half liter of beer at 11:30 AM. There was a slight breeze that I was savoring, and the excitement of July 4th weekend was tangible. After my meeting, I felt a buzz in my pocket, and saw that an old friend had sent me a Facebook message, asking me to read an article she should just written for The Times of Israel. In that article I was shocked to read about the previous night's events-- namely that a Palestinian Terrorist savagely, cowardly, stabbed to death a precious, pristine thirteen year old Israeli girl in her sleep. Reading this left me in a state of denial-- How could this happen when everything is so hunky-dory here? How could this have happened, and only now I am finding about it? Usually, I see disturbing news as it happens on Twitter. But then I remembered, as I wrote about a few months ago, that I removed Twitter, Facebook, and Safari from my smartphone. And I reflected that in general that has been an excellent move. No longer am I reading about mindless political tweets from the candidates, useless sports information, or other downright slanderous speech.
        However, at that moment, when I heard about this vicious attack hours after it happened, I realized getting rid of my Twitter had a downside as well. Because when tragedy happens to my dear brothers and sisters in our precious Holy Land, I want to know about it. I want to mourn with them, to feel their pain. I want to cry with them, to grieve with them. I don't want to be far away, oblivious to the unbearable pain they are going through. And the truth is, this is one of the things I miss most about Israel. Yes, of course I miss feeling the holiness every breath I take. And yes, I miss the food, and interacting with the colorful Israeli personalities. But I also miss crying with my nation during times of crisis. I miss the feeling that I am grieving alongside all of Am Yisroel, not in isolation in America, as everyone else is shooting off fireworks, celebrating this amazing country's independence. It is almost cruel how in America life just marches on, totally unfazed by the horrific tragedy in Israel. But I am shaken. Because the Jewish People are like one body. When the left foot is wounded, that affects the entire being. When part of the body is in pain, the whole body feels it as well.
        When a person is injured, he can take medication to numb the pain, to enable him to forget his misery. When it comes to the Jewish People, I don't want any medication to deceitfully hide the pain. I want to feel it.
        May G-d end our pain for good, and bring us all back to the Holy Land, speedily in our days.

Sincerely,
Danny Wolfe



Monday, April 18, 2016

What Honeywell Thermostat Company Taught me about Life







Dear Henry,
      I am not one to usually toot my own horn, or even blow my own shofar,  but at the risk of sounding arrogant, I wanted to share with you something I did that I am proud of. You see, last Friday was a rather warm day in the Denver Metro area. We were well into the 70s, approaching the low 80s. When I went into my house I noticed it was uncomfortably hot. It was even hotter than a hot air balloon floating peacefully over an Alaskan Rain-forest. Naturally, I walked over to my Honeywell Thermostat to turn on the air conditioner for the first time all season. And as I tried lowering the temperature to a heavenly 67 degrees, to my chagrin, I remembered that for some mysterious reason my thermostat does not go lower than 72 degrees. As that unfortunate realization set in, I began to accept the fact that I would be spending the upcoming Shabbos shvitzing like a overheated porcupine in the Zimbabwean swamp lands. 
      In a state of sheer desperation, a thought flashed in my head like a bolt of colorful lightening: maybe it would be worth a shot to go ahead and call the kind folks at Honeywell to see if they could help me. Sure enough, oh Henry, that is exactly what I did. After dialing the number I spoke to a man, for anonymity sake we will call Carlos. Carlos patiently listened as I explained the issue. After putting me on hold for two minutes he gave me instructions. I followed his instructions and to my utter delight, I was able to lower my air conditioning as low as I wanted it. Apparently someone in the past had  set it up such that it could not go under 72 degrees, and for many years that was the lowest temperature the thermostat could go-- that was at least until Carlos came to the rescue.
     I genuinely was overwhelmed with joy. I pictured walking in from synagogue the next morning, eager to enter my house to escape the treacherous heat. And I envisioned that blissful feeling one experiences when walking into his colder than ice cold house on a hot summer day. Without thinking, I expressed my joy and satisfaction to Carlos, who was still on the line. I explained to him how happy he made me-- how I didn't think this thermostat issue was fixable without replacing my whole furnace. I told him that I had not experiences such joy since the day the Broncos won the Superbowl. I instinctively asked him if his manager was there so I could tell them how wonderful Carlos was to me. A bit taken aback, Carlos readily obliged and put his manager on the phone. I proceeded to describe in gory detail how helpful he was, and to express how I didn't understand how any human being in their right mind wouldn't turn Honeywell when looking for a new thermostat. 
        Upon hanging up with Carlos's manager, a lady, for the sake of anonymity we will refer to as Chelsea, I heard the furnace kick into full gear. I ran to nearest vent and places my bear hand against it, feeling the ice cold air filling up my house. Basking in joy, I started dancing. I then decided it would be appropriate to take to Twitter. I recall many times reading angry tweets people direct to companies (usually airlines) complaining about the service. I decided to take to Twitter to tweet to my hundreds of followers (you, too, my dear reader can  be included among them by following @dannywolfe1) a happy tweet, praising the Honeywell customer service.
As you can see above, I tweeted, and I know quote, "@honeywell_home I thought my thermostat was busted until your customer service guy saved the day! Great work!" Honeywell then responded, and that's when's I tweeted them the following: 
Honeywell appreciated that, and even gave me a compliment telling me I am "too funny."

    The Talmud tells us a story in Shabbos 31A about a non Jew who wanted to convert. He came before the great Sage Hillel, who told him what he needs to know about Judaism: What is displeasing to you, don't do to your companion-- this is the entire Torah, everything else is merely commentary, Now go learn!
     We see from this a very basic principle that the Torah itself alludes to when it says, "Love your neighbor like you love yourself." What we would want for ourselves we should do to others, and what we wouldn't want for ourselves, we should not to do others. That means that if I wouldn't want an angry customer criticizing me to my boss, I shouldn't be so quick to critique an employee to his boss. If I wouldn't want to be be pushed out of the line for kiddush, I shouldn't push my way to the front of the kiddush line. If I would not want to be spoken about behind my back, I should not speak about others behind their backs. If I would not want the entire audience I am speaking to during a sermon fall asleep, I also, should try my hardest not to fall asleep when other people speak. Conversely, if I would want other people to compliment my efforts to my boss, I should be quick to compliment workers to their boss. If I would want to receive an encouraging comment, I should be quick to give a nice comment. If I would want help shlepping groceries from my car, I should be quick to help others shlep groceries from their car. If I would want company and companionship when frolicking in a Kansas meadow, I should be quick to volunteer my time to friends in need of companionship. If I would want the Better Half to buy me some M&Ms from an Idaho rest stop on a long road trip, I should also be naturally inclined to buy her M&Ms at an Idaho rest stop, even if she didn't ask, and I am not a prophet who knows for sure what she wants without her communicating that to me.
      Many times in life we are quick to see, and point out, the negative in other people. But our Rabbis also teach us that if we want G-d to give us the benefit of the doubt, we sure as heck better give everyone around us the benefit of the doubt as well. There is no doubt that if we take the time to acknowledge the good in G-d's children, G-d, will take the time so to speak,  to acknowledge the good in us as well.

Forever yours,
Danny Wolfe




Thursday, April 14, 2016

Kobe Bryant vs. Derek Jeter: It's No Comparison







Dear Henry,
      As the madness of Kobe Bryant's last game wears off, I wanted to share a few reflections. For those of my thousands upon thousands of readers across the vast expanse of the universe who perhaps do not follow the NBA, let me provide some background: At the beginning of this year, Kobe Bryant, undoubtedly one of the greatest NBA basketball players of all time, announced that he would be retiring after the season. Since his announcement, every game he played was part of a grand farewell tour, where people flocked to the games to watch his lousy team play. Fans from all over the country gave him thunderous ovations, acknowledging their appreciation for his contribution to the game of basketball. This week, as his final game approached, Kobe was the talk of the World. His nickname is the Black Mamba, and Twitter declared yesterday, April 13, his last game, to be #MambaDay. Kobe was the talk of all the Sports Talk Shows in the country.
     What I wanted to write to you about today though, is not about Kobe's career. Nor is it about how I personally find the whole Farewell Tour concept that he embraced to be distasteful, as it removes the focus from his team, and places it squarely on himself (in contrast, by the way, with how Peyton Manning walked away from the game.) What I wanted to write, oh Henry, is about a tweet I saw earlier in the week from the one and only Skip Bayless. Skip excitedly announced to his 1.8 million followers that on his show, The First Take, he would be debating with Stephen A Smith on the topic of who had a better career: Kobe Bryant, or Derek Jeter. Upon reading this seemingly innocent inconspicuous tweet, I felt a little bit of my Wheaties start to come up in my mouth. I thought to myself how Skip apparently did not read my brilliant masterpiece blogg about Snoop Dogg. I thought to myself, how truthfully, we can never compare any two people because everyone is so different and has such a unique set of life circumstances. BUT, if we do compare athletes, perhaps it would make sense to compare athletes in the same sport. And if we do compare athletes in the same sport, perhaps it makes sense to compare athletes who play the same position. And if we do compare athletes who play the same position, it makes sense to compare athletes who played in the same era. Thus, perhaps it would make sense to compare Kobe Bryant, a shooting guard, to other great shooting guards in the league at the time, like Dwayne Wade, or maybe even Michael Jordan, who briefly overlapped with Kobe. That, oh Henry, kind of makes sense,
      But to compare Kobe to Derek Jeter? Why do we need to do that? Can't we be content with the notion that they were both legendary athletes in their respective sports? Why can't that be good enough? Why do we need to compare apples with oranges, pickles with ground beef, and pianos with the beautiful tulips in my garden ? Each athlete had a unique role on his respective team, each won five championships, each was enormously successful. Do we say that Kobe was the better athlete since he could nail the three pointer better than Jeter could, or do we say Jeter was better because could snag a ground ball coming to him at short stop? What on earth am I missing? Why do we always have to be comparing people to each other? Why can't we just stop and appreciate each person's inherent worth in and of itself? Why can't we suffice to stop and acknowledge the impact each player had on his own team and sport?
      We need to stop comparing ourselves to others, and we need to stop comparing others to others. Every human being is unique and has a totally unique purpose in this world. We need to hope that each person realizes his/her mission, and becomes the best him/her that he can be. As I alluded to above, and as I quoted on these pages in February, we need to follow the example of Snoop Dogg: We "got to be doin' me. I don't know how to do nobody but me. It's hard doin' you but I could do me very well." 
      As a life long fan of sports, I am tremendously grateful that Kobe Bryant did Kobe Bryant and that Derek Jeter did Derek Jeter. We sports fans could not have asked for anything more.

Forever yours,
Danny Wolfe




Wednesday, January 13, 2016

We can all Win the Powerball








Dear Peyton,
      I admittedly purchased a Powerball ticket two days ago after filling up my gas tank with some pure, cheap, Rocky Mountain gasoline. As I looked to my left at the gas station I noticed they were advertising selling Powerball tickets. At the time the winner was promised one billion dollars. I thought to myself, while it is true and undeniable that my odds in winning are about one in three hundred million, what the heck, if the Almighty wants me to win, I sure as heck will.
     And then, naturally I started contemplating what I would do with a cool billion in my pocket. Would I quit my job and travel the world? Would we move to Israel on the spot? Would I donate all my money to saving the whales? But then I thought more about it and I realized that I wouldn't do anything drastic. I love my job, so I wouldn't be going anywhere, and my family and I are very happy people so we wouldn't be making any abrupt changes. I would keep it simple, pay off my mortgage, and college loans, buy a second car and install a garage into my house. I probably would also buy a home in Israel that we'd visit for the holidays each year, and that would basically be it. 
      After fantasizing about these luxuries for a few minutes I reflected on an incredible lecture I have heard several times by a friend and mentor named Rabbi M. Rabbi M speaks at great length about the topic of happiness and how fortunate we are living in this world. For example if G-d forbid I was blind, but had the opportunity to pay for an expensive surgery to restore my sight, what dollar amount would that be worth for me?  Would I pay a million? Ten million? More?
Or if someone offered me fifty million dollars for the opportunity to remove my eyes would I take it? After all, I could then afford to go travel and explore the world. But is it worth being able to forfeit my eyes for the sake of traveling the world if I cannot see the landscape that I am exploring? Or if someone offered me millions of dollars for my two legs, would I sell them? Would it be worth it?
Or how about someone in need of my two kidneys? Would I give them both up, for a few million dollars if it meant I would have to live my life going through dialysis, being unable to process waste on my own? Or what if G-d forbid a person was suffering through a life threatening illness, and only a 75 million dollar surgery could save his life? If he wasn't blessed with having the 75 million dollars, how far would a person go to come up with those funds? And if he was blessed with those 75 million dollars, would he decide it wasn't worth giving up the 75 million to save his life?
      The Torah teaches, "Who is rich? The one who is happy with his lot." It thus emerges, dear Peyton, that with only a little thought exercise, we can come to an appreciation for how unbelievably rich and blessed each and everyone of us are. The mere fact that we are alive is worth hundreds of millions to us, how much more so if G-d has blessed us with sight, hearing, use of our limbs, a body that processes waste, the ability to walk, a loving family or community? If G-d blesses me with a billion and a half dollars, there is no doubt, I will be one happy man. However let's not kid ourselves; I don't need to win this silly lottery to be able to bask in the immense wealth with which G-d has blessed me.

Forever yours,
Danny Wolfe




Thursday, November 12, 2015

Don't be Caught with your Wheels over the Line: A Gripping Tale of how Justice was Served on Speer Boulevard







Dear Peyton,            
       One gorgeous autumn afternoon in the most glorious city this side of Jerusalem, two and a half weeks ago, my Better Half, adorably delicious baby, and myself embarked on the return trip home after a lovely weekend in Vail, Colorado. We had the privilege of attending The Jewish Experience Shabbos Project retreat in Vail, and we were all incredibly inspired. My parents were kind enough to watch my other three children for 48 hours, and on this particular Sunday afternoon we were excited to be reunited with our children. As I got off the highway, about twenty minutes away from home, I called my Pops to tell him that we would be arriving shortly. During this short phone conversation, which is legal to have while driving in Colorado, I noticed a yellow light. Being the cautious, vigilant, excellent driver I am, I decided that I was going to go ahead and stop at the Yellow light, so as not to run the light. To my shock, and profound displeasure, I noticed the traffic light snapped my picture. I was not upset because I was concerned I was having a bad hair day; balding people in their thirties like myself don't have bad hair days. I was not even concerned that I wasn't looking good, exceedingly handsome individuals like myself always look good. I was upset because I was suspicious that this camera would send the picture to the Police, who would mistakenly think I ran the red light, which I most certainly DID NOT do. I turned to my wife to tell her to remind me that I did not in fact run the light, but she was sleeping more soundly then a African Zebra after a long day galloping in the meadowy Zimbabwean Safari. I thought to myself, shucks, if the Better Half is sleeping, I am going to have to remember this myself. "Note to self; you will probably get a letter in a week from the Denver PD accusing you falsely of running the light. Remember Dann-o, when you get that letter fight it, because right now you are are waiting for the light to turn green, just like all the other cars are waiting. After the light turned green, I promptly forgot about the whole episode as I got lost in my thoughts trying to figure out what I would be doing for the remainder of this afternoon given the fact that the Broncos had a Bye week.

Ten Days Later
As I casually strolled into my house for a lunch break on yet another fantastically beautiful Denver fall day, I couldn't help but smile as I was greeted by my adoring Better Half and my three youngest children. The salad The Better Half so lovingly prepared was waiting for me on the table. And that's precisely when I noticed it. I noticed a particular shiny white envelop sticking out in the mail box. I dramatically tiptoed over to see what it was. It looked serious, so I opened it. And to my dismay, the letter was a casual reminder about that fateful day ten days earlier. I looked inside and was shocked to see they wanted me to pay a forty dollar ticket! "That's absurd, thought I, I DIDN'T run the light!" And then I read that the ticket was not for running the light, it was for having my front wheels over the white line at a stop light/cross walk. And then I looked, and sure enough they got my photograph, showing, beyond reasonable doubt that I was guilty as charged, my two front tires were over the white line. I thought I would call anyways to plead my case; after all, I did NOT run the light! I called. And there was a recorded message which said, "Before we transfer you to anyone, please be aware that if your wheels crossed the white line, that is a violation of Colorado driving code of conduct and you will be ticketed for that heinous offense. Good day." I realized I didn't stand a chance. Pleading ignorance wouldn't help, for it was my responsibility to know the law. I dejectedly, ashamedly, hung up the phone, resigned to my bitter fate.

         The Talmud in Tractate Avos, or Ethics of Our Fathers relates the following, profoundly powerful teaching: "Know what is above you: an Eye that sees, an Ear that hears, and all of our actions are recorded in a book." The simple understanding of this passage is that as Jews we are ultimately held accountable for our actions. We are not free to act in any way we please; at the end of the day we have to take responsibility for our behaviors, and we need to remember that G-d is vividly aware of our every action. After a person takes leave of this world, we are taught, a person reviews a recording of his life, and he signs off that everything he saw is in fact true, exactly as it happened. The evidence is presented in a very clear manner.
      Seeing my car's two front wheels over the line demonstrated this concept in a powerful manner. We must never forget, that everything we do in this world has enormous significance; every action brings with it eternal ramifications. We cannot be caught with our wheels over the line. There's simply too much at stake.

Forever yours,
Danny Wolfe





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

Thursday, August 20, 2015

Elul, and How I am Tiger Woods







Dear Henry,
This is the first blog post I am writing from my new home, in Sunny, warm, beautiful, Denver, Colorado. As such, from this day forward, the blog will no longer be called 12 degrees, which represented the average temperature in my previous home, Albany NY, but rather it shall be called 72 degrees, which represents the new average temperature in my current home, Denver, Colorado.  Henry, we have had a great run together these last three years, today, drawing over 10,000 readers world wide. But I think inasmuch as I am entering a new chapter of my life, I am going to start writing my blog posts to Peyton, so Henry, this will be the last blog I write to you. You've been a great pen-pal and a great listener these last three years.
       Peyton,  I wanted to tell you about a fascinating conversation I had with my father the other day. My dad, who we will call 'Pops" was telling me how he is not interested whatsoever in competing against other people when he plays golf. He hopes he does well, and he hopes they do well. But what concerns my father is that he improve his own score, and in that sense, he plays against himself. At first I said, "Pops, you're just getting older. You know how awesome it feels to beat an opponent in a sport, I love ya Pops, but I can't relate to not caring bout how your opponent fares; I hope I win, and therefore, necessarily, I hope he loses." After telling him this, I did a little self reflection, and realized, that as usual, my dad was conveying profound words of wisdom. Judaism teaches that a good recipe for a miserable life is to always compare your life to the lives of others. The person who does not focus inward, but is rather fixated on every one else, will never find contentment. Life is not like a tennis match, in which you either win, or lose. Life is like a golf game, where we work on improving our score every time we play. We might go through some slumps, and we might get knocked down. But we can always storm back and get even better.
      Right now we are in the month of Elul, the month before Rosh Hashana. On Rosh Hashana we stand before G-d in judgment as He determines who will live and who will die. Just as we would tremble at the thought of standing before a judge or jury who would determine whether or not we receive a death sentence, so too, right now is a very scary time. It doesn't require perusing the daily newspaper for very long to realize that life is very temporal and can end at any time. The Talmud instructs us that we should repent one day before we die. The obvious question is, how can we do that when we don't know when we will die? To this the Talmud answers, all the more reason to repent today, since you might well die tomorrow; and thereby you will live out all of your days in a state of repentance. The month of Elul reminds us that if we have not started repenting, now is the time to begin, before we stand before the King of all Kings in judgement. We shouldn't push it off; we need to start immediately.
      Rabbi Dessler points out that every single person has a personal spiritual battle that he/she is waging. Each one of us needs to identify with clarity what we are struggling with, and we need to come up with a plan to triumph in the battle. Every one of us is created differently; we each have our own unique struggles. Just like it is useless for me to compare my score with yours on the golf course, so too, spiritually, the only score I should be evaluating is my own.  But the time to start confronting these struggles is right now. The time to start figuring out how to correct my golf swing, is not tomorrow, not in two months, but today.
      In 1996 there was a corny Nike golf commercial that I never properly understood, until today. The commercial featured the enormously popular and successful Tiger Woods, and random children, all of whom went to the camera and said, "I am Tiger Woods." Today I realize, that indeed, just like the children on that commercial, I too, am Tiger Woods.

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