As I share in the podcast, with Chai on Life we often speak about self-growth, spirituality, connection to Hashem, self-love and compassion and more all along those lines, so it feels like a missed opportunity not to share how I have grown through the experience of giving birth for a third time with all its struggles, fears and emotions. This episode is giving a real glimpse into where my brain was at both then and now and how my relationship with Hashem has grown and changed throughout the last six months.

They say that when you give birth, you’re not just giving birth to a baby but to a mother. I believe that happens anew each time. So here, my story.

If there is someone you want to see on The Chai on Life Podcast, email me at ⁠alex@chaionlifemag.com⁠ or send me a DM @chaionlifemag. See you next week!

Because it’s such a massive holiday though, I don’t want to let it just pass me by (no pun initially intended) without taking some time to reflect on a few lessons gleaned. 

To be fair, this took me a bit of digging to get into. Because of the mental load and amount of physical prep work, you both feel more tuned into the spiritual aspect with getting rid of chametz, but also less because everything else seems to take priority. But through it all, I do feel different coming out of this holiday. Sometimes, we do things intentionally to get us to new places and sometimes, the energy of the time has an effect all on its own. Here, some of my takeaways:

1. It can take time to truly feel free from the things holding you back and that’s okay.

I thought about our seder last year vs this year and I do feel like a different person now, even if the growth felt slow at the time. Sometimes, we’re just not ready for certain things one year and it’s important to live in that space. Don’t push yourself. If you’re upset about something in your life, don’t feel forced to overcome it. Acknowledge where you are, give yourself love and know that the next year things might look different. 

Then, acknowledge how far you’ve come. Whether you’ve released something from the year before or just aren’t as hung up on something else, those things are huge! They deserve to be honored and celebrated as we spiral up through life.

2. Perfect is the enemy of the good.

With Pesach, the perfectionistic tendencies can really come out. We literally have to get rid of every morsel of chametz in sight and it can be stressful when you have a whole house to prepare! There is so much buildup to the seder and then it’s just one night (or in our case, two) but it can feel like a lot of pressure to get it all right and make it the most spiritual you can. 

Then, the second night you’re tired and feel pressured to do it perfectly again. Sinking into it, whatever it may be and whatever comes from it — whatever Torah is shared, whatever jumps out at you, however the kids behave, and just accepting it while doing your personal best in that moment is all you need to do. The rest comes from Hashem. This is a hard one for me. I want to feel like we did it well, that Hashem is proud and I was able to connect in the highest way on this extremely holy night but sometimes, the pressure just takes away from the joy and beauty. Enjoying it, savoring the time and moments with family and friends around you I think is more important and releasing expectation as well.

3. Sometimes (okay a lot of the time) feeling the opposite feeling helps us appreciate what we have.

Often, you only appreciate what you have when you feel the opposite. For example, I feel so much more appreciation for chametz and kitniyot now that bread was taken away, and feel so much excitement for beautiful spring and summer weather after a long winter.

It can feel easy to long to live somewhere else that has beautiful weather all the time or get used to the weekly challah at the Shabbat table but recognizing that and internalizing the appreciation and gratitude for all Hashem gives us is special. Having harder times helps us appreciate the sweet. Feeling more restrictive helps us appreciate the usual abundance. There is so much to be grateful for all around us, we just have to remind ourselves sometimes and feel it in a new way.

4. Disconnection is okay and welcome, AND your worth is about so much more than your output.

This is a hard one for me as well but one that I’m really coming to internalize more and more. A lot of the time I feel like my value is placed on what I do. Am I working hard enough? Doing enough? Creating enough? Am I in the right place in life? Of course, every person is on their own unique path and there is no one right place in life and Pesach is a reminder of that. 

When we disconnect for a long period of time, we’re reminded of the beauty in simple connection, of just being together with family and friends. It’s not about how much you do (even though it can feel that way with chol hamoed activities or food photos) but really, it’s just about being in the moment, preparing for the same thing and then living it.

We experience this weekly a little bit with Shabbat, but feeling it on Pesach in a larger, bigger way just helps me internalize it all the more so. What we do with our time in the regular routine life is so important and also taking a step back and just being with the people you love and just being in general is equally so.

–

It’s interesting to see how my reflections change from year to year. I look back at my article from four years ago and it’s interesting to see how different my takeaways were. It’s cool to see the growth and important to flow with the changes that each year brings. My life looks different every year, my circumstances change and I not only bring a different energy to the holiday but the holiday infuses me with something different as well.

Now, just trying to feel acceptance for those things, understanding and love for the place I’m in in life and gratitude for everything I am building with Hashem’s help.

What are your reflections this Pesach? Feel free to share below!

That is, until I started learning more about Cheshvan. It’s possible, that at the true end of days, Cheshvan will be the most important month of all. Cheshvan is the eighth month on the Jewish calendar (when starting from Nisan). Eight, according to the Sefer Yetzirah (via inner.org) is related to the eternal revelation of the supernatural. The number seven relates to this world that we’re in, while eight is one above.

The “harp” played by King David and used in the Temple has seven strings while the harp of Mashiach possesses eight strings. The letter of the month is a nun. The shape of the nun is bent over, “confined by the boundaries of nature.” With the coming of Mashiach, the nun will straighten out and turn into the final nun, breaking through the boundaries of nature and descending into the subterranean realms of reality in order to reveal G-d’s all-encompassing Infinite light.

There is so much more that Inner.org shares on the connections between Cheshvan and Mashiach and it’s pretty mind-blowing that we’re not focusing on the potential of this month more. Actually, our recent podcast guest, Danielle Renov, has shared that she believes Mashiach is primed to come in Cheshvan because it feels like a humble month. The Torah was given on Mt. Sinai, the smallest, or most humble mountain and Cheshvan, a month with no holidays or real excitement to it feels like it is a month that would take us by surprise and ultimately become the month that redeems us.

Of course, in learning about all of this I feel hopeful while at the same time feeling a bit confused. This month Mashiach could come!! Every day we wait and hope that we will finally see even more revealed good in this world, all of the atrocities will be explained, the Third Temple will be built and finally things will straighten out. Yet at the same time, things are looking bleak. Personally, my anxiety is high. Tensions about the election have never been greater. There are still hostages being held captive, there are still soldiers fighting and falling to save Israel, there are still rockets and terrorist attacks being thrown at Israel every day, there are antisemitic incidents in America, it is scaaaa-ry.

The only thing I keep coming back to in this time is that through the darkness, through the waves, we have to just cling to Hashem harder and with more force. The sense of the month, according to the Sefer Yetzirah is smell, which it details is the most spiritual of all senses. Apparently, the sense of smell is the only one that did not participate in the sin of man in the Garden of Eden. Further, it is the sense which saved the Jewish people in the time of Mordechai and Esther who are called More veHadas (myrrh and myrtle, the two primary sources of fragrance).

Of course, practically I don’t know what this means, but connecting it to Purim, with Mordechai and Esther, one of just two holidays we will still celebrate when Mashiach comes, is giving me a clue that Hashem is with us right now and saying something.

When we read Megillat Esther, Hashem’s name is not mentioned once, yet Hashem is really running the whole show beneath the text. If you had to choose the most important holidays on the Jewish calendar, I don’t think Purim would be in the top three, yet it’s actually at the top in terms of what we will continue to celebrate at the end of days.

In all of this thinking and analysis, I wonder if Cheshvan is the most important month Mashiach-wise because we have to work harder to connect to Hashem when He’s not right in front of our faces. We don’t have the Days of Awe with Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. We aren’t sitting right next to Him in the sukkah. We aren’t dancing with Him on Simchat Torah. We are simply being, living our lives, trying to fight to keep hope alive, to keep our connection strong and remembering that while we are fighting to cling to Hashem in the regular, day-to-day moments, stress and all, and at the same time, Hashem is trying to cling to us.

The flood, when Noah built his ark, occurred in Cheshvan. It began on the 17th and on the 28th, Noah brought his sacrifice to G-d and G-d wore He would never bring a flood on the earth to destroy all mankind again, using a rainbow as His covenant with the world.

Hashem has promised to never destroy us again and to date, He has kept that promise. In all of these years, why should I worry that He will let us down now?

Maybe the rainbow is the symbol of the covenant because of how brightly it shines, how the colors cannot be ignored, how people stop and stare every time a rainbow appears. It feels supernatural when you see a rainbow in the sky.

Maybe that’s what we need to remember going into this new month. Hashem will never destroy us. He is always here with us, thinking about us and guiding the story and He is constantly creating beauty, just waiting for us to notice.

In Cheshvan, we may have to look a bit more closely to see Him, to feel Him, but when in doubt, think of the rainbow, and you will know He is always there.

As much as I want Chai on Life to be a rejuvenating place, it can be hard to grasp at inspiration when it seems like the world is crumbling around us — on top of us, really.

I have never personally seen levels of global antisemitism like this in my lifetime and it’s scary. Point blank.

But I’ve also learned (very quickly) that me, sitting here in fear, is not something that’s going to get me anywhere good. It’s going to make me a much worse version of myself and I can’t show up the way I need to in my home, with my husband and kids, at work and with my friends if I fall into it.

So, it’s time to turn to our new month of Iyar for some of that inspiration to get us through (which Torah always does). One point of comfort, is that no matter how scary this world gets, we will never become the toxic rot that the antisemites are. We will never violently hurt people just because it feels good to hate. We are a people of kindness, of chesed, of respect, of introspection. It’s in our blood, it’s in our values and no matter what, that will always be who we are. No matter how many people are against us, I am so proud to be on this side.

Iyar is the second month of the year. It comes after Nisan and before Sivan. It’s the time when we count the omer, or when we’re counting up to receiving the Torah. The letter of the month is a vav, which is a connecting letter. It links words together and in this case, it’s linking months together. Pesach was our Exodus and Sivan is when it culminates in us receiving the Torah. Iyar is what gets us there.

It’s important to note that that link, that time in between gets its own time in the sun. We didn’t just leave Egypt and get the Torah right away. Hashem gave us this period where we could work up to it. We weren’t ready before. We needed that time, we needed that introspection and growth in order to become the vessels that could receive.

As I try and become introspective about this time that we’re in and find some solace in it, it’s comforting to think that this is also the link. Hashem knows exactly what is happening and what He is doing. There are no mistakes. If that’s true, then this dark period must be the link for something brighter. There must be something magical that we’re gearing up for on the other side. 

The sense of the month is “thought.” Although as Jews, we certainly do a lot of thinking, this month I’m going to try and channel any thoughts away from the fear of what’s going to happen and into the things I can control. What can I do to make the world a better place? What can I accomplish in order to create a spiritual light in this world? 

Maybe it’s making challah. Maybe it’s learning something about emunah (faith). Maybe it’s calling a friend to check in and create connection instead of retreat. Maybe it’s creating more podcast content and having meaningful conversations. Whatever it is for you, do that thing. 

Instead of becoming paralyzed by fear, we can take one step forward and become the person we want to be through all of this. We can become that connector between terror and what is good. While we may feel helpless, our actions can also change worlds. Let’s do this, Iyar.

The only solace of watching this was knowing that it was in the past, that we’ve moved forward, both as a Jewish nation and worldwide. We know that another Holocaust can never happen again, right? It should be a given, but I also wasn’t immune to all of the antisemitism around me. I’ve been aware of rising antisemitic attacks for a while now. Things have been getting worse, more tense. People in towns all over America have been the recipients of antisemitic flyers or swastikas drawn in schools. The musical, Parade, was protested by neo-Nazis right outside its doors. The building of new mikvahs were trying to be blocked, teachers and professors were saying questionable comments in their classrooms. The list goes on and on. Are we safe? Will we ever be?

A week and a half ago, our Jewish family was attacked in Eretz Yisrael. More than 1,400 people were brutally murdered and slaughtered in ways that are too heinous to even discuss let alone see. It’s been hard to find the right words to share. Thoughts flow through my head all day, coming in and out but I haven’t felt ready to put pen to paper, to really let it out, to process. How can an event so brutal, so tragic, be processed?

Since then, life has taken a turn. I question so much, hesitate every outing, wonder if it’s safe to send my child to school today. I smile at the Amazon delivery driver, unsure what nationality he is as I’m walking around the block with my son. He looks at me stoic. Was that a glare in his eye as he observes me with my Jewish head covering?

Will my neighbor continue to support us? Or will other false narratives seep into her brain? Was that a garbage can rolling down a driveway or is someone outside? Was that just a firework or a gun shot? Do people still do fireworks this far after the Fourth of July? Should we get a gun? Should I sleep with a knife next to my bed? How do I protect my children from the weapons I feel I need on-hand to protect them?

A neighbor and friend told me she started googling if washing machines had ventilation in them, in case she needed a place to hide her children. It’s easy to get sucked into a vacuum of hate and despair, wondering how we will ever get out of this, get through to a brighter place.

It’s so easy to just scroll through the doom on social media than it is to fight. But taking Hashem out of the picture, giving into despair is the worst thing I could possibly do in all of this. 

There are moments of brightness. I play with my kids after school, dance around to their favorite songs. I feel guilty that I’m not in the serious, mourning zone for a little bit, but then feel strength that I’m raising the next generation and keeping them from the pain of what’s happening. I tell myself it’s okay to be in that moment, to hold all of the things at once.

I change a diaper and wonder what the hostages in Gaza are doing without them. The pit in my heart and stomach churns further knowing that’s most likely the least of the horrors.

I see soldiers in Israel on Instagram, singing Aishet Chayil to their wives, the song that is traditionally sung on Shabbat night. I cry thinking of the wives that can’t be with their husbands right now, that are living in fear that they too, will be taken away from them.

I think about the Israeli children that know far too much about sirens and bomb shelters, more than any little innocent soul ever should.

I watch a video from a soldier on the front lines, giving me chizuk (strength). I realize that if I’m not strong for them, I’m not doing anything at all to help. 

Back to Leopoldstadt— the one character in the play that really irked me was the one who converted to Christianity and spent the days leading up to the Holocaust saying he wasn’t a Jew. It didn’t matter to the Nazis. To them, he was still a Jew and killed right along with everyone else. He could denounce it as much as he wanted but he only looked worse doing so.

It showed me that the only thing we have in this situation is our Judaism. We need to be strong and fight for it. If we were to turn our backs on it, G-d forbid, they would still want to kill us. So all the more so we need to hold onto it more tightly than ever. It’s that strength that will get us through this. It’s the moments of unity when I feel most connected. It’s seeing the positive ways our nation is coming together that makes me feel closest to Hashem. 

I say Tehillim, daven, learn Torah, give tzedaka, bake challah with a kavannah and frequency that I never did before. I like to think Hashem is preparing us. We’re doing all of this extra spiritual work not only to help us through this, but so we change as people and are ready to receive the ultimate bracha afterward. Hashem is getting us ready.

It’s that narrative that’s the only one I need to cling to. Not the hateful Instagram comments or posts just spewing falsehood and harm toward the Jews. Not the fear and anxiety. The only thing that feels good in all of this is clinging to Hashem and knowing He is right there with us.

Rebbetzin Esther Baila Schwartz shared in a class this week that Amalek, which represents evil, has the gematria of 240. Sofek, or doubt, also has the gematria of 240. When we let doubt in, we’re letting the yetzer hara in. We can’t let it get to us.

I can’t control what happens. If anything, these events have taught me how not in control I am in life. The one thing I can control however, is my response. It’s my choice if I engage or not, how much time I spend scrolling social media, how much work I do on the spiritual frontlines of this war. Focusing on the light and positivity I can bring into this world is the only way I’m going to get through this — the way I want to get through this.

Please Hashem, give me the strength to do so. Give us all the strength to stay close, to support each other, to continuously love each other, to love You and to never let go.

Xoxo, Alex

The reality is that I’m like a duck (lol). My presence is calm, but under the surface, my legs (or thoughts) are going a million miles a minute, paddling me about. I’ve made a lot of progress trying to get that outward appearance to go more inward, but as most things in life, it’s a journey.

In the past couple of weeks, it seems that there has been a sharp increase in antisemitic events and attacks both in America and Israel. For another job I have, we cover these attacks so it’s part of my work to stay informed. As I scrolled through the Google news search, states all over the country popped up with articles. One in New Hampshire, South Carolina, California, Maryland, the list goes on.

Then, announcements about a “day of hate” were posted on my Insta stories making me shudder even further. Antisemitism is not a new ailment we’re dealing with, but it’s one that doesn’t get less frightening. I found myself on Wednesday night bitter, resentful and terrified for the future.

Then, I started learning more about the new month we’ve entered of Adar. One of my best friends gave an insightful Torah class to a chabura of women about the themes of this month. So much of what she was saying, I realized, was the antidote to the fear I was feeling so deeply. Thinking on it in an active way that truly helps me absorb it, is the only thing that’s creating a change. So now, I share some of those reflective thoughts with you.

–

First, the mazal, or symbol, of the month is a fish. We know fish can’t survive without water. As humans, we can relate that water to spirituality — something we should always be engulfed in as well. As creatures of the sea, fish also represent a concealed reality. The fact is, the reality we’re living day to day is also concealed. Hashem reveals himself in small ways, when we really look, but ultimately, it’s a world of hiddenness. The point of this world is to work hard to reveal His essence. Plus, some things I have to accept I just won’t understand.

The whole Purim story is written without mentioning Hashem’s name once. While He’s not mentioned, He is actually running the whole show. Knowing that and really clinging to it in a way I hadn’t before — gives me the emunah that He’s doing the same thing right now.

We’re living in a reality replete with hate, crime, violence and war. Knowing that what I see on the surface isn’t the full picture is one of the only things that soothes me through it.

–

Each month on the Jewish calendar also has a sense. This month, the sense is laughter. Naturally, in Adar we’re told to increase our joy — we’re supposed to be happy! Raise your hand though if it feels hard to run around skipping all day when you’re inundated with terror-inducing news. (It’s me, hi!)

Then, I got to thinking — Hashem is literally telling us that not only do we need to increase our joy right now but we need to be happy always. It is our mitzvah and obligation as a Jew. “But how?” I thought. Why should I be happy when so many are suffering? How can I be happy through this fear?

I listened to a shiur about happiness as part of a webinar I’m in. The teacher, Sara Yocheved Rigler, brought up a Ted Talk by Eddie Jaku, who calls himself the “Happiest Man on Earth.” You may be picturing someone with relatively few problems in life, who hasn’t been through too much, but no. Eddie went through the Holocaust — in two different concentration camps among other internment camps. He was beaten, saw his parents die and came out with nothing. He calls his time in Auschwitz, “Hell on Earth.”

In his Ted Talk he says, “Happiness does not fall from the sky, it’s in your hands. If you’re healthy and happy, you’re a millionaire.” If he can say that, I certainly can. He’s reminding all of us about the most powerful and pertinent part of happiness. It’s a choice. Our external circumstances can be wild, difficult, filled with suffering and anxiety and yet, we can still be happy. We can be struggling and still laugh. (Thanks, Eddie!)

Eddie lived until he was 101. He just passed away a little over a year ago. He is proof that a life with suffering does not have to equate to bitterness. Further, he showed that a life of happiness is the secret to longevity and will help you just live more life. 

–

On my downward spiral the other night though, when I was really in a news dive, forgetting everything about Eddie, I decided to go straight to the source and strengthen my emunah. I turned to the next chapter of Living Emunah, which I’m currently reading and the entry spoke to my soul. (Don’t you love when hashgacha pratis (Divine Intervention) works?!)

The entry was actually called “Don’t Lose Hope.” It was about how things can change immediately. Sometimes it may look like everything is getting worse, but actually we’re just a second away from our yeshua, or salvation. When we feel like we’re on the verge of despair, this is actually the moment when we need to “double our efforts and pray with even greater faith and determination, recognizing things can change in an instant.”

It was just the chizuk, or strength, I needed in that moment. I’m gripping it as I type. With all this pain, I have to believe we can be minutes — seconds even — away from salvation. I am using that belief to fuel my part in it. Instead of despairing, I’m davening. Instead of being afraid (which of course still comes at times), I’m channeling that into giving tzedakah, saying Tehillim or checking in on a friend. If I’m here, then Hashem put me here for a purpose.

In each moment, I have the choice to do something that may change the course of action — certainly for my life and maybe even speed up the bringing of Moshaich. We all have that ability. 

Ironically, that’s just the story of Purim. Everything the Jews thought would be bad for them, ended up being part of their salvation. Things seemed like they were at their worst, but then turned around for the best. This is the time that Hashem can bring our salvation again — we have to believe that.

So now, I’ve never felt more energized about Adar. I’m feeling so much joy because Moshiach’s arrival could be imminent. Honestly, what better time than Adar for him to come! The world feels so upside down, yet we’re meant to be at our highest level of joy. Let’s savor any and all the good that’s coming our way and choose joy throughout our days. Together, we will make Moshaich come. (Hands in!)

xoxo, Alex

Tevet gets dark — quickly — and not just because it’s in the middle of the winter. We have the fast of Tevet on the 10^th that commemorates the siege around Jerusalem in 3336 or 588 b.c.e. It’s also the day King Herod captured Jerusalem in 37 b.c.e. and when 3,000 Jews were killed in the Bucharest riots in 1941. Throughout the month are many other anniversaries of antisemitic events in history, and we’re dealing with so much antisemitism right now.

There are some high points though. On the 5^th of Tevet, Chabad celebrates the anniversary of a U.S. federal judge ruling that the library of the sixth Lubavitcher rebbe, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Scheneerson, belonged to the community, which they say recognizes the extraordinary nature of a rebbe as a communal figure. The 24^th of Tevet is also the yahrtzeit of the Alter Rebbe, the first Chabad rebbe in 1812.

For me, there is one particular highlight on the 14^th of Tevet — the birth of my first son, Ezra. That was the day I became a mother — which marked the start of his life as well as the start of my new one. I think all mothers will agree that as you move through that matrescence period, you’re never the same. Obviously your day-to-day tasks change when you become a mom, but as I learned from one of our power women, Bayla Abdurachmanov, the actual chemistry of your brain changes too. You truly birth a new version of yourself.

This year, we’re G-d willing celebrating his third birthday (and Upsherin!) and I really feel that sentiment. I am a different woman than I was just three lightning-fast years ago — for the better. I have new challenges and new stressors, but they combine to make my life richer and more meaningful.

—

The letter of Tevet according to the Sefer Yetzirah, is the ayin, which means “eye.” The focus of the month in this respect, is working on the nullification of the evil eye. The word Tevet actually comes from the same root as the word tov, or good. If you’ve ever worked on having an ayin tov, you know how powerful it can be when it works — and how destructive it can be when it doesn’t.

I actually just listened to an amazing podcast — America’s Top Rebbetzins with Debbie Greenblatt — all about strengthening one’s ayin tov. I highly recommend you listen because the story at the end will undoubtedly convince you of the ayin tov’s power.

Further, the sense of the month, according to the Sefer Yetzirah, is anger. This is an interesting one to me. You could look at it from so many levels. First, on the surface alone, it’s dark outside and it’s easy to become bitter at that dark and cold. On a deeper level, often I’m learning when we have a negative view toward something, it’s probably because we have a darkened, or limited view of the situation.  

If I could see what person X was going through when she did [insert situation here] to me, then maybe I would have more empathy. In this week’s parsha, Parsha Vayigash, Yosef encountered his brothers for the first time after they sold him into slavery and left him in a pit of scorpions and snakes. I went to an amazing class this week with Rebbetzin Esther Baila Schwartz where she spoke about how he dealt with this. Objectively, this seems pretty bad all around, but Yosef forgave them completely. He didn’t even see them as people to blame. He believed the situation came directly from Hashem — they were mere actors in the greater story.

Yosef had such a straight and close connection between him and Hashem, that he saw everything clearly and nothing else mattered. He didn’t live with any anger. Today, we’re living in a time of darkness — we’re in exile, waiting for Moshiach, dealing with so much pain and suffering and we have to work extra hard to bring the light into our lives and create it for ourselves (a Chanukah takeaway right there), as he did.

—

What I’m learning is that Tevet is nowhere close to a month to gloss over, it’s a month of extreme potential to work on the deepest part of ourselves. The word “Shemayim,” or heaven, Rebbetzin Esther Baila says, is a combination of the words “aish,” meaning fire, and “mayim,” meaning water. With those elements, whichever is stronger will consume the other. In Shemayim they coexist perfectly in shalom, or peace. This month, we need to work on that dance, to create shalom in our own lives in this world.

When it comes to others, and the difficult situations we encounter and feel angry about, we can channel that water to know that it’s all from Hashem, and draw additional comfort from the bitachon. Then, when it comes to ourselves, we can have a little bit of fire, to push ourselves to be better (not from a place of self-criticism and hate!) but from a place of growth, forgiveness and ultimately, wanting to live a peaceful life.

I know firsthand (as I’m sure we all do) how good it is to just feel angry sometimes. You want to hold onto it. In reality, that’s not a life that I want to live. I want to live in a place of peace (as hard as it may be to let go) and I can’t do that with anger and resentment inside.

If you need even more motivation for this — maybe you’re struggling with something that just feels too great — you can take something else from the Chanukah story. Hashem made a miracle with the oil and with the war. 13 men fought hundreds of thousands. They knew they were weak and that the only way they would win was with help from Hashem. Then, Hashem defied the laws of nature and made the oil last for eight whole days. Nature means nothing when you have Hashem on your side. A miracle can happen in an instant. That is really the only thing in this time that can ease our anger and provide us with true menucha and comfort.

—

While we focus on the Jewish calendar, there is always a connection with the secular one. We’re about to experience the secular New Year which is also a time to reset, reflect and begin anew. Let’s use this time in Tevet to give ourselves another chance at peace — to work on our emunah (faith) with fervor, to know that our internal happiness really depends on it.

Now, Tevet might be my new favorite month. Because within it, in the depths of darkness, we can be the ones to create the greatest light.

xoxo, Alex

The beauty of the month of Cheshvan is that we get to revel in routine. Holiday time is amazing yet also a bit crazed. Now, we have time to settle in and just process.

The question is though, how many of us actually do that processing? I admit, I’m guilty of running from one thing to the next, updating my never-ending to-do list and simply thinking about what’s to come. I’m sure that describes many of us.

This month, I’ve noticed that as I move through my morning, I’m so anxious to get on with the rest of my day that I feel like I can’t take the time to meditate or daven — the things that ironically, will power my day with so much more presence, meaning and intention.

I was recently listening to a podcast which wasn’t Jewish, but had a lot of Jewish wisdom in it. The guest asked: how many of us actually spend time getting to know ourselves? To him, that meant scheduling a set time to sit and think for at least 30 minutes about who we are, who we want to be, where we want to go, etc.

This is something I’ve wanted to do since the holidays, and now, I theoretically actually have the time. Of course, the routine of daily life may also leave little time for thought, but I’m realizing how important it is to just do it. It will never happen if it’s not a priority. Truthfully, if we don’t live our lives with that intention, what is the point of it all?

When my baby wakes up in the morning, if I just think, “ugh, I guess I have to get up now,” versus taking a moment when I walk in to savor the yumminess of his smiling face as he notices me, am I even really living in the life I’ve created?

Naturally, that first thought of struggling to get up, or whatever it may be in a different situation will always be there. We’re human. It’s hard to get up in the morning, it’s normal to have a crazy to-do list with a lot going on and yes, we all also get stressed. But as I think and work through this more, I’m starting to understand that you just have to come back to yourself. Take time either through meditation, prayer, a walk outside or just sitting for 30 seconds to take stock of your blessings and return to your truest self and the person you actually want to be. Doing so will energize the rest of your life.

When I look back at my life IYH after 120, I don’t want to feel like I just rushed through it all. I don’t want to always be looking forward to the time when my kids G-d willing are older, or when I’m more established or have hit a certain target. I want to enjoy my life now exactly as it is with the moments that are already here.

That is Cheshvan for me. It’s a hard thing to do, especially as a perfectionist and an achiever but I’m working on it. It’s enjoying the time when we’ve come down from the go-go-go to notice, enjoy and put into practice the life we say we want to live.

It’s daily work to remember to do this — to truly enjoy when my son comes home from school each day and just be with him; to take my baby on a walk and actually feel the thrill in the fresh air and crunch of leaves on the ground. Doing so however, is a serious mood-changer.

My grandmother a”h was someone who lived her life in this way. She sadly passed away in February and I miss her dearly. She was someone who was fully immersed and happy in the present. Taking time to sit with the newspaper, do the crossword puzzle, catch up with a friend or go to the pond across the street were enough for her and so delightful. I’m trying to honor her legacy now by doing the same.

As we get deeper into the new year and as the darker months set in, I know it will only get more challenging to bring up that appreciation. It’s easy to feel bitter when it’s cold and dark, when the kids are sick or the day doesn’t go as planned. In those moments though I want to remember that I am in control of my thoughts and I can change them at any point.

It’s not about being mad at myself or critical if I make a mistake, lash out at someone or get stressed, it’s just making sure that when that does happen, I can return to myself and make things right. I can go back and make time for the things that power and revitalize me — not just sitting and watching Netflix, but talking to Hashem, journaling, spending time in nature, really self-care in its truest form. As Rabbi Efrem Goldberg often says on his Living with Emunah podcast, you can always turn the page.

So as we move through Cheshvan and the rest of the year, my goal is to keep that focus. Yes, focus on long-term goals and how to lay the groundwork now to make them happen, but also in enjoying the process every day, not just waiting for the end-result.

Cheshvan is the eighth month of the year, the month of Mashiach because the number eight signifies “the eternal revelation of the supernatural.” How can we live every day with that G-dliness, or with our lives truly powered by G-d? IYH maybe if we do, we’ll be one step closer to bringing Mashiach here.

As always, I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments

xoxo, Alex

P.S. If you want some serious Cheshvan inspiration, check out this article by my sister.

I know, I know, it’s been quite a while since you’ve heard from me, so let’s catch up. A lot has happened in the last few months.

For starters, I moved out of Russia. When the war broke out, I was 36 weeks pregnant. We really didn’t know what we were going to do. Initially, we thought we’d stay and see what happened — we really thought the fighting could be over in a week. Then, over the course of that week, things started to get scary. Airlines were pulling out of Russia every day and businesses were doing the same. If we waited and things got much worse and I was either even closer to 40 weeks pregnant or with a newborn baby, then I really wouldn’t be able to leave — or it would be much harder to do so. If we wanted to get back to the States, the time was right then.

So, after a few rescheduled flights, baruch Hashem, we got tickets going through Israel. The feeling I got when we touched down in the Holy Land was euphoric. When the passengers clapped as the plane landed, you could truly hear the relief everyone felt in that sound.

During that layover in Israel, which was just a couple of hours, I saw strangers come to welcome Ukrainian refugees with large, colorful signs and homemade cookies (photos below!). I’m always grateful to be Jewish, but in that moment, I felt it with a newfound depth.

There is so much more I could say about that experience, but we’ve got other things to discuss! (If you want to learn more about the journey from Russia, click here.) When we landed in America, we stayed with family for two weeks and in that time, found a house to rent, located a new daycare/school for my son and got settled with a new OBGYN practice. It was a whirlwind, but Hashem really took care of us.

Then, at 40 weeks and 3 days, I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, who we named Noach Avraham (we call him Noah). He is the sweetest, cutest little ball of mush I’ve ever seen (besides my firstborn, Ezra, of course), and I am so grateful that he came into this world surrounded by family and friends here in America.

Since then, I’ve been spending my time getting used to new motherhood x2, helping Ezra adjust to being a big brother, settling into our community in New Jersey and trying to make new friends here, building our home, the day-to-day to-dos and really just processing all that’s happened.

(If you have more questions, comment below!)

—

Now, in what seems like the blink of the eye and an eternity all at once, Elul is here again. This month on the Jewish calendar is a pretty momentous one. It’s the month leading up to the big holidays of Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur and Sukkot. It’s filled with a fluttering excitement as a new year is approaching — the same one I would always get when a new school year was about to begin. But it also includes a touch of fear. What will this year bring?

These days, it seems like every time I open Instagram or do some sort of news search, I’m met with a tragic attack in Israel or antisemitic stabbing somewhere in the States. Religion aside, there are shootings in America and devastating events around the world being reported constantly. If you want to stay informed, there’s rarely an escape.

It’s confusing to know what to do with that news. You want to feel and empathize with the deep pain around you. You don’t want to shut yourself off. But to fully feel everything that goes on would mean I’m lying in bed sobbing my eyes out all the time and that doesn’t seem like the right answer either.

Further, the more I hear about bad news, the more I fear it could happen to me. How do we live calmly, constantly hearing about tragedy? How do we continue on without worrying all day every day that it could happen to us?

I think that’s why there’s a bit of fear lurking when Rosh Hashanah is around the corner. What will our decree be?

Despite the anxiety, I’m not one to give into fear and just say, “Hey, okay, I guess this is where we’ll stay.” I need to try and find a way out of it — a place of comfort, something that can give me chizuk (strength) and rejuvenate me.

One recent Shabbat, I was starting to spiral, so decided I needed a serious dose of Torah. I picked up “Torah Wellsprings” by Rav Elimelech Biderman and the entire first page was dedicated to the need for the Jews to have hope.

Moshe Rabbeinu in Parshat Va’eschanan told the Jewish people not to be afraid, that Hashem would help them conquer Eretz Yisrael. Because of the hope he gave the Jewish people, he prayed with fervor for Hashem to permit him to enter the Holy Land. Rav Biderman writes, “Moshe Rabbeinu’s merits are countless. He brought the Torah down to the Jewish nation, he saved the nation many times with his tefillos and he led them out of Mitzrayim and through the desert for forty years. Who can compare to Moshe? Yet, he didn’t ask that Hashem answer his prayers because of all these merits. His only request was that Hashem answer his tefillos because he gave hope to the Jewish nation.”

It is through this that we see the importance of hope. We need to believe in others, work to instill hope in ourselves and know that a better future is coming. Yes, there are a lot of scary things going on out there, but there’s also so much good.

—

I recently subscribed to a newsletter called “Nice News,” which has been helping me ingest positive news instead of just the scary. It’s been a practice in balancing out my mind to know that often, the good or inspiring news just doesn’t get reported.

Plus, I’ve become empowered by the fact that we’re not just passive bystanders in all of this. While we don’t have control over everything that will happen to us, we do have control of our actions and choices. On Tisha B’Av, I listened to a podcast (scroll down at this link to see it) with Maya Namdar and Dalia Oziel. In it, Maya talks about how she wakes up every single morning with an active mission to bring Moshiach. If she can do it after all she’s been through (you can learn more through the podcast), I thought I could definitely try too.

Every day, we really can make some sort of small difference and bring us all one step closer to Moshiach’s arrival. I used to think it was about doing something really big, but now I realize it’s about bringing your best self to the daily life that already exists for you. Creating shalom bayit in our homes, being kind and patient with our kids, reaching out to a friend, giving tzedakah, resolving a conflict, praying — there are so many ways we can add a brick to the third Beis Hamikdash. Adding that thought into my day creates so much more focus, and ultimately, hope, because it means I believe that a better world is coming and can come at any second.

So, this Elul, instead of being dragged down by the fear, anxiety and terror that is shared around me. I’m doing my very best in those moments to acknowledge it, feel the pain, and then choose hope — to know that redemption is coming and instead of just worrying, to put the pain into action.

Let’s bring Moshiach together this year.

xoxo, Alex

Over the last year plus, this website went from being just an idea in my head and only one completed interview to a brand with about 60 published pieces in the course of a year. I’ve spoken to nearly 20 diverse women on topics across the board, from mental health to hair covering to environmentalism, racism and motherhood. This site is still very much in its infancy, but at the same time has accomplished a lot and I want to celebrate that. It’s shown me that one small step, followed by another and one more after that can turn into a dream project come to life.

So often, as women, we don’t celebrate ourselves enough (why is it so hard?!) We’re so quick to look at the negative space and what we didn’t do or could have done better instead of taking the time to feel good about our achievements. So, consider this my personal party and a reminder right back to you to celebrate something in your own life! Literally, it could be anything from getting the grocery shopping done to taking care of your kids when you don’t feel 100 percent to nailing that last assignment — anything big or small, because often, the small things are the big ones.

Then, keep those feelings flowing as we journey through this month of Adar — it’s the perfect time to increase the good vibes in your life. 

Now, on a related note, I’ve realized that I sometimes struggle with putting pressure on myself to feel good when TBH, I just don’t. Over the past six weeks I’ve been out of any sort of routine while traveling to the States with a toddler and living in other people’s homes. As amazing as it was to see family and friends, it was also exhausting and left little time to take care of my own personal needs or to give space to all the feelings I was experiencing.

I felt bad about said emotions also. There was so much guilt laying on me for not feeling only thrilled, grateful and happy to be there the whole time, especially when so often in Moscow, I’m yearning to be back in America, surrounded by family and friends.

When I got back to Moscow, though, and was settled back at home, I realized that constantly berating myself to just “snap out of it” was doing no one any good — not myself or my family on the receiving end of my internal resentment. By letting myself just feel sad for a minute, or to feel stressed — whatever it was, I felt a release. In turn, I was able to be kinder and more loving with other people. By experiencing my true feelings (even if they were “negative”), and actually letting my body and mind spend a little time there, I was able to increase my joy.

It seems so counterintuitive to spend time in a negative place and feels like the last thing we “should” be doing, but in reality, it might be the only way to get through. Sure, sometimes putting a smile on your face will lead to the actual feeling of happiness, but sometimes the way to get to the other side is to let ourselves be seen and heard — without shame that we’re not feeling the “right” thing.

I’m currently reading the book The Connections Paradigm (Templeton Press, 2021) by Harvard psychologist David H. Rosmarin, who also happens to be a religious Jew. The book’s subtitle is “Ancient Jewish Wisdom for Modern Mental Health,” and in it, one of the major takeaways early on is cultivating a relationship between the soul and the body. 

So often, we dismiss our body’s needs in the hopes of achieving and reaching a higher level that the soul wants to be at. In reality, though, if we disregard our body’s needs too much, we’ll lose trust in ourselves and get nowhere. Plus, when we’re sensitive to the needs our body has and can provide for it and vice versa, we’ll be much more likely to bring that sensitivity outward.

I realized that disregarding my feelings to reach this higher state of joy was completely counterintuitive to the goal. By taking the time to listen to my body, its stresses and challenges, I gave it space, cultivated a stronger internal relationship within and felt so much more connected to myself and Hashem as a result. 

So, this Adar, (x2 because we get two of them this year!), in addition to researching cute Purim costume ideas and delectable hamantaschen recipes, use the extra time we have throughout both of the months to check your emotional barometer. Take in however you’re feeling and let yourself feel those emotions without judgment. 

G-d-willing, it will make for a month that is so much more joyful.

Have you tried this? Do you have any other happiness tips? Let me know in the comments!

xoxo, Alex