Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Monday, January 20, 2014
Confessions of a Broncoholic
1/20/2014
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Dear Henry,
Euphoria. Delight. Unadulterated Joy. Pure Happiness. Contentment. These are the only adequate words to describe my mood yesterday. No, I did not have a child. Yes, the Broncos dismantled the New England Patriots.
As I left synagogue after dutifully reciting the afternoon and evening service, and became aware that the score was now 20-3 in favor of the Good Guys, I was astounded at my genuine sense of delight and happiness. Utter joy, that I literally have not felt since holding my youngest in my arms on the night he was born a year and a half ago. Indeed, I was one very, very happy rabbi.
This feeling of genuine simcha (happiness) kind of surprised me. I have not lived in Colorado in over ten years. I am now in my late twenties. I do not own a television-- not wanting to be bothered by the values promoted on it. I traded in my Eminem CDs for 8th Day CDs. I like to wake up early in the morning to immerse myself in the vast Sea of the Talmud. As I matured, I came to realize, at the end of the day, how futile professional sports are. After all, what personal connection do I have to the Broncos? Because I happened to be born in Colorado, the Broncos success can really determine my happiness? Do the players know I exist, care about me, or root for me in my own life? Some might be good guys, while others mights be arrogant, violent, and downright nasty people.
And when I reflected further, I grappled with some of my emotions: How I was delighted when Wes Welker took out Akib Talib from the game; how I was cherishing Bill Belichek's scouring, kvetching, and downright suffering; how I was savoring the Tom Brady pout, with his head buried miserably in his shaky hands; and most satisfying of all--how I vengefully mocked the miserable Boston sports fans who were so nasty in their arrogant comments about the Rockies in the 2007 World Series. I eagerly opened Boston Sports news articles, and websites, rejoicing over their misery.
And yet, I am a peace-loving, revenge-hating rabbi. I don't want people getting injured. I don't want people to be sad. And I don't believe in revenge.
These mixed emotions really troubled me, and I asked my better half why it is that I love the Broncos so much. As always, she told me something incredibly profound:You have spent your whole life investing crazy amounts of time in the Broncos-- you cannot suddenly stop loving them. That love does not just disappear. She is right. Rabbi Eliyahu Dessler famously teaches that in hebrew, the root of the word for "love" means "to give." The Torah teaches that the more one invests, and gives to another, the more he comes to love them. And I have invested hours upon hours of my life into this team--I love them.
I will conclude this piece as confused, and bewildered and perplexed as I began this piece: On one hand I have the pure joy of victory under my belt-- and absolute confidence that the Broncos will take care of business in two weeks in New York shutting up Richard Sherman for hopefully a very long time. And yet, on the other hand, I have profound disappointment in my sadistic emotions about my team defeating the other team. I am better than that.
However, one lesson that I can take out of all of this with absolute clarity, is the following logical argument: If I have invested immense amounts of time and effort into loving my local football team- your Denver Broncos, the best offensive team in the history of the National Football League, who I do not even know, who don't know me, who have never tangibly ever given anything to me, then certainly, without a doubt, I ought to invest all the time and effort in the world into loving my fellow man--those I interact with on a daily basis. The Torah teaches us that we are required to love our fellow human being as we love ourselves. This is puzzling--after all, how can the Torah command us to feel an emotion such as love? One answer is that we can in fact choose to love-- by investing, and giving to others. The more you invest, the more you love. Any parent can tell you, the more sleepless nights you have taking care of your children; the more diapers changed, the more you absolutely adore your precious child.
My New Years resolution is to start to love others, the way I love the Broncos-- to learn from the way I invest time into the Broncos, and to apply that to everyone else around me. Maybe then, will I discover the futility of my relationship with the soon to be three time Super Bowl Champs--The Denver Broncos.
Sincerely,
Danny Wolfe
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Sunday, July 28, 2013
Wrapped up Challah and a Mezuza--Profound Life Lessons from a Holocaust Survivor
Dear Henry,
As you may have, or perhaps, may have not noticed, I am trying to write to you once a week, usually on any given Sunday, (at least until football season starts, when I will be obsessing over the pending Denver Broncos Superbowl championship season for the ages.) As Shabbos rolled around, I was still unsure as to what to write about for this week. The only real excitement that happened was a) I went golfing and B) I learned there is a very popular song called "Gangnam Style," and I learned some of the sweet dance moves-- but not even yours truly was able to figure out the deep inner meaning of that song. And inasmuch as I like writing only about the deep inner meaning of life on this blogg, I wasn't about to write a whole blogg post about any gangnam style, or lack thereof. So, I was stuck going into Shabbos not even really sure about what I was going to write about for this week. That feeling of not knowing what I was going to write about was probably not quite as frustrating as being a Cleveland sports fan felt when Bron Bron took his talents to South Beach.
Shabbos was beautiful-- but nothing all that exciting happened, and as of 8:30 PM last night, I didn't even have anything to write about. But then, during the rabbis shalosh seudos speech- everything changed. Before he began speaking, I heard an incredibly sweet Holocaust survivor mention that he and his wife really liked the challah that was being served, and he would try to get the recipe for her. (For a story about a different survivor, check out http://rabbidannywolfe.blogspot.com/2013/07/my-new-hero.html). Then the rabbi began speaking, and I was admittedly daydreaming. Rabbi-- if you are reading this blogg- and I'm sure you are reading this blogg inasmuch as thousands of people read this blogg, across the vast globe-- even in places like Canada, Spain, and Russia--please don't be offended. Don't be offended because the only Rabbi for whom I don't day dream while he speaks, is a guy named Rabbi Daniel Martin Wolfe- he speaks very nicely, so it's hard to day dream during his brilliant talks. Anyways, my day dream was abruptly ended when this adorable aforementioned Holocaust survivor raised his hand and told us that every night before he goes to sleep, he goes to kiss his mezuzah, and he feels as if he is giving G-d a kiss, so to speak. I thought this was incredibly touching and beautiful- here is a man who lives with the reality that the Almighty is in his home. A man who saw the most horrific sights imaginable during his lifetime, a man who saw humanity at its worse. This same man did not give up on G-d-- he embraced Him, he lives with Him.
After the Rabbi was done speaking, and everyone had thanked The Lord for their food and bentsched, (aka recited Birkas HaMazon aka recited Grace after the meal) I noticed this same sweet man setting aside two challos, and wrapping them ever so lovingly for his adoring wife, who was anxiously awaiting to greet him back home. He was doing it discreetly, as if no one would see. But I saw, and I was extraordinarily moved. Here is a man, that has been married at least fifty years putting on a little demonstration- a clinic of sorts- illustrating to anyone who would watch, the secret to a loving and successful marriage. I often find myself in situations where I could grab some leftovers for my wife, that I know she would like. But I usually tell myself, "Danny, its too much of a shlep (inconvenience) to wrap it up, put it away, and bring it home for her. Maybe it would make more sense if I just eat an extra portion, and tell her I had her in mind." But this was not the approach of this man-- this man who has been happily married for several decades understood very well that it was darn well worth the inconvenience of shlepping around some extra challah, if it meant making his wife happy, if it meant showing his wife his love through the act of giving.
And then I thought about the two different observations I made that evening of this man: A) He told us that he gives the mezuza a kiss every night before bed and B) he packed away some challah to bring home to his wife. I realized that these two items are not at all random occurrences- but they go together hand in hand. The Torah teaches us that it is our job to build a Mishkan- a dwelling place for the Almighty. We assume that this applies to us nowadays as well, as we can all build a 'mishkan me'at' -- in our homes-- so that the point of a Jewish marriage is to build a dwelling place for the Almighty. And its only fitting for G-d to dwell in a place of complete serenity and peace-- a loving environment where the love between husband and wife is palpable. An environment devoid of yelling and arguing and negativity. With this understanding, the way this sweet man behaved last night was entirely consistent. Him and his wife have an incredible relationship. He constantly thinks of new ways to make her happy, even 50+ years into their marriage on a late Saturday night. Therefore, G-d is resting in their glorious home.
Once a week I will wrap up some challah and bring it home to my prettier, better half.
Will you?
My name is Danny Wolfe, and I approve this message.
Sincerely,
Danny Wolfe
As you may have, or perhaps, may have not noticed, I am trying to write to you once a week, usually on any given Sunday, (at least until football season starts, when I will be obsessing over the pending Denver Broncos Superbowl championship season for the ages.) As Shabbos rolled around, I was still unsure as to what to write about for this week. The only real excitement that happened was a) I went golfing and B) I learned there is a very popular song called "Gangnam Style," and I learned some of the sweet dance moves-- but not even yours truly was able to figure out the deep inner meaning of that song. And inasmuch as I like writing only about the deep inner meaning of life on this blogg, I wasn't about to write a whole blogg post about any gangnam style, or lack thereof. So, I was stuck going into Shabbos not even really sure about what I was going to write about for this week. That feeling of not knowing what I was going to write about was probably not quite as frustrating as being a Cleveland sports fan felt when Bron Bron took his talents to South Beach.
Shabbos was beautiful-- but nothing all that exciting happened, and as of 8:30 PM last night, I didn't even have anything to write about. But then, during the rabbis shalosh seudos speech- everything changed. Before he began speaking, I heard an incredibly sweet Holocaust survivor mention that he and his wife really liked the challah that was being served, and he would try to get the recipe for her. (For a story about a different survivor, check out http://rabbidannywolfe.blogspot.com/2013/07/my-new-hero.html). Then the rabbi began speaking, and I was admittedly daydreaming. Rabbi-- if you are reading this blogg- and I'm sure you are reading this blogg inasmuch as thousands of people read this blogg, across the vast globe-- even in places like Canada, Spain, and Russia--please don't be offended. Don't be offended because the only Rabbi for whom I don't day dream while he speaks, is a guy named Rabbi Daniel Martin Wolfe- he speaks very nicely, so it's hard to day dream during his brilliant talks. Anyways, my day dream was abruptly ended when this adorable aforementioned Holocaust survivor raised his hand and told us that every night before he goes to sleep, he goes to kiss his mezuzah, and he feels as if he is giving G-d a kiss, so to speak. I thought this was incredibly touching and beautiful- here is a man who lives with the reality that the Almighty is in his home. A man who saw the most horrific sights imaginable during his lifetime, a man who saw humanity at its worse. This same man did not give up on G-d-- he embraced Him, he lives with Him.
After the Rabbi was done speaking, and everyone had thanked The Lord for their food and bentsched, (aka recited Birkas HaMazon aka recited Grace after the meal) I noticed this same sweet man setting aside two challos, and wrapping them ever so lovingly for his adoring wife, who was anxiously awaiting to greet him back home. He was doing it discreetly, as if no one would see. But I saw, and I was extraordinarily moved. Here is a man, that has been married at least fifty years putting on a little demonstration- a clinic of sorts- illustrating to anyone who would watch, the secret to a loving and successful marriage. I often find myself in situations where I could grab some leftovers for my wife, that I know she would like. But I usually tell myself, "Danny, its too much of a shlep (inconvenience) to wrap it up, put it away, and bring it home for her. Maybe it would make more sense if I just eat an extra portion, and tell her I had her in mind." But this was not the approach of this man-- this man who has been happily married for several decades understood very well that it was darn well worth the inconvenience of shlepping around some extra challah, if it meant making his wife happy, if it meant showing his wife his love through the act of giving.
And then I thought about the two different observations I made that evening of this man: A) He told us that he gives the mezuza a kiss every night before bed and B) he packed away some challah to bring home to his wife. I realized that these two items are not at all random occurrences- but they go together hand in hand. The Torah teaches us that it is our job to build a Mishkan- a dwelling place for the Almighty. We assume that this applies to us nowadays as well, as we can all build a 'mishkan me'at' -- in our homes-- so that the point of a Jewish marriage is to build a dwelling place for the Almighty. And its only fitting for G-d to dwell in a place of complete serenity and peace-- a loving environment where the love between husband and wife is palpable. An environment devoid of yelling and arguing and negativity. With this understanding, the way this sweet man behaved last night was entirely consistent. Him and his wife have an incredible relationship. He constantly thinks of new ways to make her happy, even 50+ years into their marriage on a late Saturday night. Therefore, G-d is resting in their glorious home.
Once a week I will wrap up some challah and bring it home to my prettier, better half.
Will you?
My name is Danny Wolfe, and I approve this message.
Sincerely,
Danny Wolfe
Friday, May 3, 2013
My Better Half
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Dear Henry,
I am very sorry that I left you in suspense last week. It's just that sometimes I get a little too verbose- heck I even get a little too wordy. So I had to stop. However, if you recall correctly, I had left off with Rav Yaakov Schorr shlita, who saved the day by properly installing a battery into my alarm- something that not I, nor 5 firemen, could figure out how to do.
What I wanted to write about on this lovely afternoon in the month of May, was the feeling I had on Tuesday morning, the day my lovely wife was going to be coming back. I vividly remember (as it happened not even two weeks ago) feeling an excitement, that could only be compared to the excitement a schoolgirl feels right before her first day of school. I felt more jubilant than a college-aged Jewish American Princess prior to shopping at Century 21. I was more delighted than a frat boy delights over a Corona, and more pumped to see her than a meat head is pumped to drink an expensive protein shake after getting brolic in the gymnasium.
To put it simply-- I was darn excited.
You see dear Henry, I was not expecting to miss her so intensely, as she was only out of town for three days. But the reality is, that I missed her much more than JR smith and Melo missed the hoop last night, when they fell to the Celtics in Game 5 in MSG. I Missed her more than Michael Bay missed the mark, when he made Pearl Harbor. I missed her more than that movie missed the mark- and that's an awful lot girl. Normally, after the children go to sleep every night, I work-- I take care of the office-work aspect of my job. Truth be told-- me and my wife don't even get to bond as much as we should-- she is doing things in the kitchen, listening to Torah lectures, and I am tending to the IPad and computer. When the work is done, I feel more tired than a chimpanzee feels after climbing a large tree in the Denver Zoo. But, Henry, even though we don't actively communicate as much as we should during these nights, we still very much feel each other's presence. Even if I am in another room, I know darn well she is running the house, from a room away, and this is an awesome feeling.
However, those nights when she was away, once the kiddies were sleeping, I felt a profound sense of loneliness. Knowing she was one state away was very depressing, and lonely. Usually during the nights, as well as during the early mornings, I try to study the Lord's Good Book. I try to make it my priority that the last thing I do before taking a shluff is studying His Good Book, and before I go to synagogue at 6:40 AM every day, I arise at 5:20 AM so that I can start my day off on the right foot, Learning His Torah. Heck- starting the day off with a a heavy dosage of Torah, is like starting a race in Thailand two thousand and fifty meters ahead of the starting booth-- it provides a monumental boost. When my wife went away, I assumed this routine would continue. Interestingly, however, I simply sensed no motivation. I was too tired at night, and when my alarm started beeping at 5:20 AM, I couldn't get out of bed. Every other day of the year, it is not a problem-- but somehow, now, I wasn't able to get up early to learn. I experienced something very profound that the Kli Yakar, a commentator on the Torah teaches us from last week's Torah portion. The Kli Yakar writes that a Jewish woman is her husband's sustainer. If I bring home wheat, that is very nice, but who turns it into the delicious challah I eat every Shabbos? If I bring home wool, that is lovely-- but who spins it, and eventually turns it into the clothing on my back? On a deeper level, a man's wife turns him into a man-- she takes his raw materials-- and develops him into a better person, someone who can achieve his purpose and fulfill his mission. She inspires and helps give him meaning and a drive to succeed. As I once heard quoted from a movie I didn't see, she "makes him want to be a better man." I realized that every second I am around my wife, I am refueling my spiritual gas tank-- her mere presence gives me the very real feeling, that there is nothing in the world that I cannot accomplish.
Therefore, it came as no surprise, that when my alarm started buzzing at 5:20 AM, the first morning after she returned, I jumped out of bed quicker than a fire truck zooms down Western Avenue on a Thursday night.
My Better Half returned.
Sincerely,
Danny Wolfe
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