Showing posts with label happiness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label happiness. Show all posts

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




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






Monday, April 20, 2015

Don't do Drugs- it's that Simple







Dear Henry,
      Today is April 20th. To me, as soon as I hear 4/20, I think back to 1999 when I was in 7th grade, watching from a Denver dentist office the aftermath of the Columbine massacre which prematurely claimed the lives of 12 high-school students and a teacher. I vividly remember the images of dozens of kids running out of their school with their hands up over their heads. I remember mourning with them from my living room as I watched their candle light vigils from my television. I remember crying every time I listened to the beautiful song "Columbine friend of mine" by Jonathan and Steven Cohen. I remember the references to how April 20th also coincided with Hitler's birthday.
      It is therefore always very painful for me when I hear of how excited everyone is each year on April 20th, because 4/20 is also the unofficial Marijuana holiday where everyone celebrates marijuana and lights up, or consumes some brownies, as the case may be. I am pained not only from the tragic memories of 1999, but also because of the fact that taking a drug called marijuana has become an unofficial national holiday. I honestly don't know if marijuana was a thing when I grew up in Denver Colorado in the 90s and early 2000s, because I spent my time hanging out at Walmart and going cow tipping in Crowley County, but one thing I do know for sure is that I never had the slightest desire to partake of it.
       You see, dear Henry, as a rabbi it is very easy to tell the good folks out there what they want to hear. It is a lot more difficult to bring things up that they might not want to hear. I reckon that out of my thousands upon thousands of devoted readers across the span of the universe, a whole bunch of them smoke weed-- to all of you out there, I love you dearly and G-d forbid you should think I am passing any judgment on you whatsoever. But, like a parent would want to point out a problematic behavior to his/her child out of nothing but love, so too I am blowing the whistle on weed smoking/ consumption out of love. In short, oh Henry, it's coming from a good place.
       About five years ago, I had the good fortune to live in the lovely Washington Heights Manhattan. Most days were grey and dreary, there was often dog poo littered on the ground and the smell of fresh urine emanated from the streets. Despite all of that, I will never forget observing my son Avrumie's reaction to the scenic views: from his stroller he bobbed his head from side to side, excitedly taking in all of the sights and smells. I realized that for this child, he was literally seeing the world for the first time-- and the world-- even the Heights--is a pretty spectacular place. This morning, as I recited the morning prayers on this grey and rainy Up-State day, I couldn't help but notice the greenness of the grass, in contrast to the grey, colorless sky. I couldn't help but be moved. Later that same morning, I observed my 3 month old princess basking at the sights of her play mat- (pictured below) kicking and squealing in utter delight. The complex patterns and colors literally brought her to a state of ecstasy. This past Shabbos, as I shifted my attention from child to child, relishing in how precious and special each one of them is, I felt higher than a kite. 
      Humanity is created, the Torah tells us, in G-d's image. Each and everyone of us is G-d-like. In Judaism, we are commanded to be Holy, and to be a "kingdom of priests, and a holy nation." We believe that we are imbued with all the tools we need to live a lofty, high, elevated life. There is no need for outside substances, which bring this to us in a fake way, which I am told promotes laziness and apathy, and a depressing downward spiral when the high wears off. There is no need for this substance, which for many brings with it, paranoia, or anxiety. Judaism teaches we can reach this euphoria not by lighting up, but by simply learning to open our eyes and perceive the abundance of light.

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



Thursday, February 5, 2015

Don't Sweat the Small Stuff; Savor it















Dear Henry,
       Last Wednesday my family and I decided to embark upon our first journey since we our little princess was born. It didn't take long until I noticed that as hard as it was to get out of the house with five us, with six, it was nearly impossible. But thank the L-rd we were able to pile into the car, and all get our seat belts snuggly on. Besides for my two week old baby bawling like I did after watching Cinderella Story when I was 18 , and my two year old screaming because he is a middle child, there was a certain serenity that overcame us all in the car. I began to take a deep breath as I pressed the button on the garage door opener. But after a few seconds, I noticed, to my horror, the garage was not opening. I tried again, but to no avail. I remained as calm as Tom Brady was, down by 3 points in the 4th quarter of the Super Bowl, as I figured the garage door was stuck on some ice, and I began to dig around the garage door, to help it open. But when I clicked the opener, again, the silly door did not budge, the same way I wouldn't budge if you tried to cut me in a line to get cake. At this point all my four children were shrieking, as we shlepped them out of the car, and sent them dutifully back upstairs.
      That night, an incredible young strapping lad who we will call Dru came over and helped me open the garage so I could pull the car out; but when we shut it, we found that the silly garage would not reopen. That night, about 14 inches of snow fell innocuously on my unsuspecting car. For the next week, as we would load the car, we would be holding our children like footballs as we hurdled down our snowy icy staircase en route to our frozen beauty on wheels.
       The next day, I woke up to notice that the weather had reached a crisp -11 degrees Fahrenheit. As I walked to the sink to try to make myself an intensely caffeinated beverage, to my horror, the water did not turn on. Apparently, because my garage was operating manually, it was kind of cracked open, which let the frigid air into my garage, and this froze the water pipes. This meant no water, no showers, and best, no flushing the potty.
      What I wanted to discuss, dear Henry, is that these two experiences, (namely having my garage break, and my water freeze,) led me to a deeper understanding of what my 1st grade teacher Rondi used to sing to us in a song that she presumably wrote: "Don't it always seem to be that you don't know what you got till its gone; they paved Paradise and put up a parking lot." Henry, I will be honest with you. Despite loading my children in the car several times a day conveniently by using our indoor garage, I never stopped to feel grateful for being blessed with the ability to make use of such an amazing invention. Several times a day, every day, my kids walked through my warm house into a reasonably temperate car sitting cozily in the garage. With one slight movement of my index finger our car whizzes out, and we are on our way. I not once ever stopped to consider how convenient this garage makes our life, and how fortunate I am to be able to make use of it.
       More importantly dear Henry, is that I don't think I ever once stopped to consider how blessed we are to be able to make use of running water whenever we so desire. Without running water, not only would I be a zombie, being forced to function in the slow lane, but on a deeper level I would not be able to live in sanitary conditions with a working toilet, and more depressingly, I would not be able to survive without being able to drink water; as Matisyahu himself says in his best song ever, "If you got no water, how you gonna survive?"
      These experiences have shown with pristine clarity that happiness is not the attainment of money, nor wild and crazy escapades across the world; but rather if one is able to perceive the myriad of gifts in his life. The key to happiness is not  to sweat the small stuff, but to savor it.

Forever yours,
Danny Wolfe

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Reflections on Broncos Super-Blow (out)

Dear Henry,
       My name is Danny Wolfe, and I am a Broncoholic. (For more on this see previous post, http://rabbidannywolfe.blogspot.com/2014/01/love-and-confessions-of-broncoholic.html)
I was very confident that the Denver Broncos would win Superbowl 48 against the lowly Seattle Seahawks. I made arrogant predictions to my thousands of followers worldwide on the social media. I tried to arrange campaigns to send me to the Superbowl. I had grandiose visions of Peyton Manning and Champ Bailey hoisting up the Lombardi trophy. I debated in my head if I should take off a few days and fly to Denver for the victory parade. I was so pumped up for the game, that immediately prior to going to watch it, despite the weather being about 20 degrees here, I unknowingly left my coat on the hanger at my synagogue, after reciting the evening service. I was amped up-- the adrenaline was pumping like a stream of regular unleaded gas into my glowing, golden Hyundai.
      And then the game started. And 12 seconds into the game, I had to literally pinch myself, to see if I was experiencing a nightmare. And then, after the first play of the second half, in which Percy Harvin returned the kick for a touchdown, I realized that this was no nightmare-- that in fact, I was watching the ugliest, most disturbing football game I had ever seen in my life-- the complete unravelling of the Broncos as they were absolutely demolished to the Seahawks in the Superbowl.
     During the commercial break after that touchdown, I turned my attention to Facebook-- to peruse the  statuses, and to be able to commiserate with my fellow Broncos fans. This perusal of Facebook instantly and radically changed my entire life perspective. You see, Henry, as I was looking at Facebook after the first play of the third quarter, a play that made the game an unreachable 29-0, I felt some sadness, and downright sorry for myself. And as I felt this sadness I took a glance at a status from a dear friend who less than a week ago tragically suddenly lost a very beloved, close family member. She had written a status update, vividly describing the profound pain she was experiencing, the flow of tears she had shed, and her unbearable heartbreak.  And with that jarring, eye-opening glance on Facebook, any 'pain' or 'sorrow' I had due to the Broncos game, instantly evaporated. I was coming home, alive and well, to my loving family, alive and well. There is nothing in the world that I have a right to be sad about, or to complain about.
     Upon reaching this stirring realization, I reflected to myself, that literally about 48 hours earlier, I was by the bedside of a comatose young teenager, praying for his full recovery, as a dear friend of mine played the guitar for him.  And the timing of all of this hit me like a ton of bricks: Within a five day span, on one hand, a dear friend experienced such a tragic loss, and I am by the bedside of a child who is in a coma, and l'havdil elef havdalos, on the other side, the Broncos lose the Superbowl by 35 points. The enormity of the difference between these events gave me extreme clarity.  I learned from the proximity of these three events a very stark lesson: I need to be exceedingly grateful for every gift I have, and G-d forbid I should ever, ever pity myself over something as stupid as a meaningless game.
      The Torah teaches us, Eizeh hu Ashir? HaSameach b'Chelko. Who is rich, the one who is happy with what he has.  Each and every one of us, no matter how difficult life can be at time, still has a tremendous amount for what we can be grateful. No matter how bad any one in the world ever has it, there is always someone else, who would trade places with them in a heartbeat. (For more on this see http://www.aish.com/sp/f/48968901.html).
     The night of the Super Bowl, I did not sleep well-- but not because the Broncos lost-- but because of the genuine pain I felt for my friend.
     This stirring experience taught me one crucial lesson about football that I would like to convey to hundreds of thousands of my fellow Broncos fans world-wide, still seeped in a deep depression after the brutal loss: It's just a lousy game.