Restoring My Soul

The truth is, I'm still processing it.

I had the z'chut to attend the annual hilula (celebration) of my Rebbe, Reb Kalonymous Kalman Shapira zya hyd this past motzei Shabbos. It was such an incredibly moving event, the intensity of it all is still so overwhelming that I constantly found my thoughts drifting back to the words that Rav Moshe Weinberger spoke.

This year, the hilula coincided with the debut of a new book that my good friend Binyomin Wolf put out. A collection of the ma'amarim Rav Weinberger gave over the last 15 years since the inception of the hilula in 2000, this slim volume serves not only as an introduction to the Torah of Piaseczna, but that of Rav Weinberger as well. It's a beautiful addition to the legacy of the Rebbe, a strong homage to the message of the Aish Kodesh.

I consider myself fortunate. Lucky to have been introduced the the writings of the Rebbe during a particularly difficult time in my life and then later on - through my efforts to share his work with others - discovering the fount of Torah wisdom that is Rav Weinberger. It's no coincidence that the same praise and gratitude that Rav Weinberger himself attributes to the Piaseczna is said about himself by others. In this year's ma'amar (indeed, the motivation behind the book) Rav Weinberger addressed the phenomenon we are witnessing that people from all walks of life - Jews and non-Jews alike - are drawn to the Torah of the Aish Kodesh in ever growing droves. Soul searchers, academics, meditation enthusiasts, philosophers, people from various streams of Judaism - all come to drink from the wellsprings of Reb Kalonymous Kalman. What is it about the Rebbe? What is the appeal? Rav Weinberger discusses this and more, and it can be listened to here.

For me, personally? As Rav Weinberger intimated, there are people who search for tzaddikim who can breathe life back into our souls. They feel deflated, defeated, lost in the chaos of a world moving at breakneck speed. They long to hear words of encouragement, to taste - briefly - the "dew of life" on their parched lips. They seek healing; some may be healers themselves, giving away their own vitality to others while wondering (doubting!) in the back of their mind whether they have anything to give.

I am such a person.

The Rebbe's writings - in the inimitable words of Rav Soloveitchik - address themselves to the reader's soul. Even if the passage itself is not relevant to my situation, the essence of the Rebbe permeates every word and touches me to my very core. His teaching are a touchstone for me, a guide for my daily living. And many times I don't internalize his words, and I don't feel worthy of considering myself a talmid, let alone a chassid. Still, because of who the Rebbe was, I can never stay far away from him. It is the conviction, the knowledge that the Rebbe is speaking directly to me from the perspective of one who has also suffered that comforts me when I'm confronted with the existential loneliness that we all share.

It's his words of fire and hope that illuminate my darkness, the same words that Rav Weinberger echoed in that darkened room this past motzei Shabbos.

It strengthens me, and I can take hold of myself once more and plunge back into the fray.

ReBound...

Today is the 4th of Ram Cheshvan, the anniversary of death for the Rebbe of Piaseczna and all the other kedoshim that were part of the liquidation of the Trawniki labor camp.

So what am I missing? Simply to be a Jew. I see myself as a self portrait...Just one thing is missing: the soul. 

God! Master of the World, Who sees my innermost secrets! Before You I confess. You I beseech! I feel so cast aside and distanced from You and from Your holy Presence! Help me - I want to become a simple Jew! 

God! Save me from wasting the rest of my years and chasing the illusions of life! Draw me closer and bring me into Your innermost Presence! Bind me to You forever and ever in wealth of spirit and soul! - Rav Kalonymous Kalman, Tzav v'Ziruz

Oh, Rebbe...

How is it that every word of your holy writings seems to speak directly to my core, the root of my neshama? No matter what my situation is at the moment I can find relevance in your wisdom.

I, too, want to be a Jew.

Unlike you, I am far from perfect, if not drastically so. So much so that I hesitate to look to you, to bind myself to your teachings and legacy, so as not to sully your reputation and zchuyot by association.

In honor of your yahrtzeit, I wanted to do something different, to separate this day from other days. But even that was a challenge that I struggled to surpass. So instead I decided to serve HaShem with simplicity today. To just pray to Him as I am. To be as real and honest as possible - accepting where I am but not resigned to the position - so that I can look forward, seek beyond the sky and clouds, and get a glimpse of the Throne of Glory and the Almighty King.

And maybe, you'll be sitting there as well, basking in the Divine. And you'll have some nachas from me...

Behold, I attach myself in my prayers, to all the true tzadikim in our generation, as well as to all the holy tzadikim who rest in the earth. -- And specifically, to my holy Rebbe, the Sacred Fire Rav Kalonymous Kalman ben R' Eliezer and Chana Bracha, may his memory shield us, may God avenge his blood.

Work it good

Nowadays, you have a lot of people who want to live a Shir HaShirim type of Judaism. Everything is beautiful - it's all "Ani l'Dodi" and "hinach yaffeh einayich". It's very emotional and idyllic, taking place in a paradise "basi l'Gani". 

But we sometimes forget that there's also a Megillas Rus type of Judaism - with people working very hard, day in and day out, in the field. Where consistency and perseverance is key, and those who can't make the cut fall to the wayside. It's difficult, but it's real. 

Yes, Shir HaShirim starts off wonderful but what happens at the end? "B'rach Dodi," and we don't know if He's coming back. But Rus starts with terrible conditions: famine, poverty, death - but how does it end? "v'Yishai holid es David" with David HaMelech. Moshiach...

Paraphrased from a comment made by Rav Moshe Weinberger in this shiur.

Someone told me a very important principle when I started school: "You take out of your experiences what you put into it." This is especially true when success is dependent in large part by how much effort is expended. The sad thing is that simply earning a degree in higher education is not necessarily indicative of competence or ability. This is one reason why certain degrees (Doctoral programs and M.D. programs specifically) have such a high degree of selectivity and on top of that a tremendous amount of work that requires great sacrifice of one's leisure and family time. By making it so difficult they set the bar higher than the less-motivated will be inclined to reach.

This yesod has so much significance for our generation. We live in a world where things are made to be increasingly more convenient, but that ease comes at a major cost.

If it sounds too good to be true, it usually is. Quick fixes and sudden windfalls are rarely sustainable, and nothing replaces hard work.

The same applies to our relationship with God. I personally find it difficult to fathom how people can expect anything remotely lasting to come about from hiring someone to come in for a fleeting "weekend of inspiration". Barring some sort of "real" connection with said entertainer*, it seems to me to be the equivalent of folding one's arms, leaning back, and waiting for it to come. "Here we are now, entertain us."

I don't believe in contracting out inspiration.

I don't mean to discount anyone's enjoyment and inspiration, but I just don't see it as being real. Especially when it's book-ended by lavish meals, and restricted to specific time constraints.

I know it sounds very cynical, and to be honest, it bothers me somewhat that I feel this way. But I recognize that this comes from a realization that inspiration is a delicate blend of hard work and spontaneity, and a facsimile of such an occurrence is weak and ephemeral. That is not to say that it is devoid of value, because I  have seen it serve as a catalyst for growth - but those instances were rare. Exceptions to the rule (that perhaps prove the rule).

* that's a hedging phrase, but I'll elaborate in a different post, God willing.

Now with English...

I posted a slightly different video a few months back, having found it over at Dixie Yid's blog.

This go-around has English subtitles for those who struggle with the Hebrew.

Kudos to my brother for sending this to me...

Holy Incandescence

We are not always fit for elevated spiritual experiences.  Those many instances that lack any elevated illumination are to be dedicated to exoteric Torah learning and practical service of God. 
But when the light of our soul bursts forth, we must immediately give that light its freedom, so that we may unfold, visualize, imagine, grow wise and attain, aspire and yearn to the highest heights, to the source of our root, to the life of our soul, to the light of the life of the soul of all universes, to the light of the supernal God, to His goodness and beauty.- Rav Kook, Orot Hakodesh 10:2

Much as we would like our lives to be more peaks than valleys, and indeed we can strive toward that goal of   allowing our souls to flourish and expand into the world, we have to know how to stay well grounded as well and utilize our time wisely in the interim. But like Reb Kalonymos Kalman says in many places: once the "doors to the prison" are open and we have that time - we should make the most of our visitation!

Chanukah is one of those times when the light of the Torah sheBa'al Peh shines forth. Everything about Chanukah is so very deep, deeper than words can ever describe. As the only yom tov that was established after the redaction of the Torah sheb'Ktav, Chanukah is the one holiday that is tailored for us here in exile, so far from where we once were and yet getting closer with every passing day.

May the light of Chanukah spread out and illuminate the world with the light of Moshiach permanently this time!

Interesting research

We've touched upon similar ideas presented in this article when discussing some of Reb Kalonymous Kalman's advice. Similarly, the author of Bilvavi Mishkan Evneh mentions a very specific technique that seems to be in line with this research, among other Torah sources...

Bothered by Negative, Unwanted Thoughts? Just Throw Them Away - Association for Psychological Science

(please be advised that the findings appear to be preliminary)

Free shiur from Rav Moshe Weinberger

From this past motzei Shabbos at the hilulla of Rav Kalonymos Kalman Shapira, the Piaseczna Rebbe zt"l hy"d. Unfortunately I couldn't make it, as I was spending time with my father and his siblings at the shiva for my grandfather A"H.

Here's the link for the shiur; I haven't listened to it yet, but I'm sure it will be great! For thousands of other shiurim on the Rebbe's works, and on countless other topics that run the gamut of Torah, visit www.ravmosheweinberger.com, where a new(-ish) subscription plan allots fifty credits per month for only $6.99, with no obligations.

Of bonsai trees and effective chinuch

A few weeks ago, Neil Harris mentioned that near my school there was a cool store that sold bonsai trees, and that it was worth checking out. I had always had a mild appreciation for bonsai because of its prominence in The Karate Kid; as I grew older, I realized that its art was a facilitative form of mindfulness and concentration. One day on my way to school I took a short detour to take a look. 

When I asked the proprietor about the bonsai trees, he launched into a whole explanation of how bonsai is really a generic term for any scale-size tree - a bonsai tree is any tree that looks completely developed in a miniature form. He showed me the different types, and elaborated on how - dependent on the particular species and the care, attention, and creativity of the owner - a bonsai tree can be shaped into magnificent forms.


I walked away from the experience inspired.

In his preface to Chovat HaTalmidim, Reb Kalonymos Kalman exhorts parents and educators to understand that they have to have the proper perspective concerning their young charges. One of the major mistakes that people tend to do is try to raise "good kids"; the Rebbe insists that to merely focus on the child as a child is fallacious. Rather, one must appraise the child as the adult he can grow up to be, and work towards that goal. It's really raising adults, not raising kids.

To a certain degree (and this is reflected by Chazal and the seforim hakedoshim), the human is compared to a tree, and this is most apparent during childhood. Like Rav Wolbe's aptly titled handbook for parenting tells us, a child must be nurtured in the same way as young saplings - they need to be protected from the elements, given suitable air and nutrition, and enabled to maximize their potential to the fullest.

The bonsai tree seems to me to be a perfect example.

Idle hands...

Be extremely careful not to waste even a moment. You should view even ten minutes of wasted time as a grave sin (Heaven preserve us). You pay for wasted time with your life. The time that you have thrown away, a part of your life, is gone forever; you will never regain it. Remind yourself of your mortality. This day and time are fading away, and you cannot bring them back. 

If you have wasted time, imagine that you have cut out a strip of your heart and thrown it to the dogs. - Reb Kalonymos Kalman Shapira, B'nei Machshava Tova

This excerpt sent chills up my spine as I read it between aliyot this past Shabbos. Thankfully my busy schedule doesn't necessarily afford me any considerable free time, but in those few moments where there is a lull in activity, I know that I don't always capitalize on that time properly. When the rebbe puts it in such a perspective, this whole matter becomes an issue of v'nishmartam!
As the rebbe stresses numerous times in this sefer as well as in his other writings, boredom and sitting idle is anathema to Judaism...

Catharsis on Paper

A recent paper I wrote for one of my college Psychology courses:

Introduction

Judaism has always been a religion of positive focus, its adherents finding inventive ways to infuse their service with joy, meaning, and fervor. It is taught that through honest, selfless worship of God, one can simultaneously elevate the mundane through divine service as he transcends his physical trappings in spiritual bliss. Perhaps more so than other religions, Judaism takes pains to ensure that humans – not just constituents of the faith – live a life of pleasantness, compassion, and ultimately happiness.

Similarly, Psychology has a focus on health and wellbeing. For a while, the zeitgeist focused on the pathological aspects of the psyche, focusing on abnormalities, mental illness, and other negative characteristics that crop up in the field. However, both the field’s philosophical beginnings as well as its shifting focus of research have been that of helping others achieve healthier lifestyles and mindsets. Indeed, even during that era of psychopathology, it is self evident that the original intent and subsequent efforts of therapy, psychoanalysis, and other innovations were with the goal of returning the patient to an point of origin beyond sickness, on the road to health. As such, the field has grown rich with many interventions, designed to help people cope, adjust, heal and determine the best possible path in life.

The Importance of Language

In both Judaism and Psychology, there is a primacy placed on language. The way we give expression to feelings, thoughts, and emotions, as well as our conceptualization of many different ideas and theories is contingent on the common language that we share. It is as integral a tool for the rabbi sermonizing to his congregation as it is for the therapist establishing a rapport with his client; coreligionists and colleagues alike rely on the jargon of their respective communities, yet strive to find the words to make it accessible for the “outsider” or layman, when necessary. Language allows us to reify the abstract, to clearly delineate and define our magnificent ideas into something coherent and structured.

Ultimately, language bestows us with the power to create; every instance of speech or communication is a creative process that we tap into, usually unaware of the amazing power that we yield. Practically speaking: using language we can build bridges between people, and perhaps more importantly, inroads into our selves.

Most of therapy is predicated on some sort of communication; the same can be said about religious worship. While it often seems as if the dialogue is one-sided, there is an inherent belief in both instances that there is a reciprocal relationship occurring, albeit in a more nuanced fashion. Beyond the dynamics of the sessions themselves, however, is the utilization of the written word as a helpful, effective intervention with various applications.

Writing as a Cognitive, Behavioral Practice

Psychologist Martin Seligman has written extensively about the positive effect of writing exercises. One of his innovations is “gratitude writing”, in which the client makes a list at the end of the day of all of the good things that happened to him or her throughout the day. Seligman stresses that when it comes to these exercises, nothing is too small or insignificant, but rather the person should strive to remember and record each positive occurrence, along with why he or she thinks such a thing happened (e.g. “My wife pressed my shirts the way I like them today.” and “She did this because she is a thoughtful, caring person.”). The effect of this exercise is twofold: it trains one to view the world, and others in a good light. Seligman also exhorts the practitioner to keep a physical record of the list (Seligman, 2011): the writing itself is of equal importance, due to its role in the habituation of the practice, as well as the creative awareness that writing engenders.

A parallel practice exists in Judaism as well. Hasidic thought – especially that of Rabbi Nachman of Breslov – is preoccupied with focusing on the positive elements of life. The inherent joy that can be found in our existential roles in the physical realm is a main tenet of Hasidic philosophy, and most of the practices associated with Hasidism reflect this sensitivity. Rabbi Nachman in particular battled the human tendency toward depression by preaching the necessity of finding the “good point” (nekuda tova) in every person – most all, the good point within one’s self. That infinitesimal spark of goodness – hidden in even the most depraved, wretched being, mired with the filth of sin – can be found, cultivated, and blown into a raging fire of holy passion that resuscitates the soul of that person. That is the deeper meaning of the verse in Psalms: “I will sing to God with what I have left.” (146:2) To wit: with that small part of what is left of the Godly soul, the sinner rapturously clings to it and returns to God (Sternhartz).

Utilizing the above teaching, Grand Rabbi Aryeh Wohl of Sudilkov (based in Ramat Beit Shemesh, Israel), a contemporary Hasidic teacher, has designed a similar – yet unique - practice to Seligman’s. Here is an excerpt from a student who received instruction from the Sudilkover rebbe (explanations and translation of terms mine):

The Rebbe then advised me to get a notebook and draw lines down the pages and divide them into three columns. In the first column, I was to record things that I did good [sic] that day; to include even small things like washing negel vasser (ritual hand washing upon arising from sleep) in the morning upon arising. In the second column, I was to record the challenges and nisyonos (Hebrew for “challenge” or “test”) that I experienced that day. This was to include things such as occurrences when I failed to maintain my composure and expressed my anger. Finally, in the third column I was to record examples of Hashem's chasadim (kindnesses) that I observed that day.

The Rebbe instructed to read what I had written down out loud before I said Krias Shema al HaMita each night… (Anonymous, 2007)

After several weeks of carefully following the instruction of his teacher, the student observes with pleasant surprise:

…Each night my list of good points and the list of chasadim grew longer and longer and my list of challenges/nisyonos grew shorter and shorter. The process of having to be conscious each day to write something down made me stop and think at intervals throughout the day. What am I doing good today? What am I not doing good today? (Anonymous, 2007)

As with Seligman’s intervention, Rabbi Wohl’s methodology helps the practitioner build up a sense of self efficacy, allows the person to place matters in a proper positive perspective, and increases the cognizance of one’s actions in day-to-day dealings. People who engage in these sorts of exercises will seek opportunities to find the good in daily occurrences. They will be more aware of the consequences of their actions when they recognize that they will have to make an accounting at the end of the day. This is in line with the Jewish concept of cheshbon haNefesh (“accounting of the soul”), a similar exercise wherein one keeps extensive, detailed records of nearly every action and thought that he had, with the intention of examining these records at the end of the day to discern the areas of his character refinement that require attention.

Structure Building Exercises

The above ideas can be adapted for nearly anything. Rabbi Kalonymos Kalman Shapira of Piaseczna, a Hasidic Rabbi who lived (and perished) in Poland during the Holocaust, wrote a masterful volume geared toward young students. The book, A Student’s Obligation (Chovat HaTalmidim, Warsaw 1929) is replete with behavioral (as well as cognitive) exercises designed to help the youth overcome such common deficiencies like laziness, poor planning skills, lack of commitment, and inefficient task completion. He too emphasizes the importance of writing things down:

It is beneficial to write out a schedule for yourself on a sheet of paper, starting with the time you wish to get up in the morning and continuing with all your activities. Use the sheet as a reference, checking back during the day to see if you have accomplished what you set out to do. (Shapira, 1995)

While the rebbe's target audience for the book was yeshiva (Rabbinical seminary) age students, and thus he mentions this in the context of learning sessions and finding spare time for extra study sessions, the rebbe clearly saw the value in this technique for people in all walks of life:

Whether you are in yeshiva or not, the schedule of study that you set for yourself should be followed to the minute. You should get to the point that if for some reason you are not able to complete a period of learning, you should feel pained, as if the day itself remained uncompleted....

Each day, make it a practice to check yesterday's schedule. What you did not complete yesterday, you should attempt to complete today. You should only do this, however, if you were unable to finish because of laziness or lack of diligence. If you were thrown off schedule because of a difficult passage...then you should not force yourself to complete [what] you missed yesterday.

The whole idea of keeping to a quantitative schedule is to discipline yourself to learn crisply and without meandering. (Shapira, 1995)

While it is clear that the rebbe's focus was on Torah study, his advice can be applied to the totality of the day. The carefully mapped out day will more often than not yield far better results in accomplishment than the haphazard approach to our busy lives. Moreover, it introduces the concept of discipline into everyday operations, which generates consistency, an important ingredient to a healthy lifestyle. There are varying degrees to the stricture of your structure; some people may prefer an outline as opposed to a minute-to-minute checklist. As with everything, it has to be done with a keen sense of self awareness and intellectual honesty.

This suggestion also lends itself finely to the idea of cheshbon haNefesh, as explained above: at the end of the day, one can refer back to his schedule and see how he did. As he starts to sort through the day's events, determining what held him back here, why he dragged his feet at that point, etc. that will aid him in recalling the particularities of the day, and his interactions with people. This segues perfectly into a real, honest soul-searching, which is Rabbi Shapira’s ultimate intent.

Writing as Therapy

Perhaps one of the most important elements of writing is the therapeutic nature of writing. As Ernest Hemingway once said, “There is nothing to writing – all you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” As we mentioned earlier, the process of writing is no less than a creative act, one in which we conceive an idea and carry it within us until it is ready to emerge into the world. The “birth process” – fleshing out an idea and putting it out into the common reality we share with others is simultaneously painful and exhilarating. By giving voice to our passions, our hopes, even our fears, we proclaim our existence to the world and lend credence to our innermost thoughts by acknowledging them openly. Moreover, the very act of writing may assist in relieving tension by serving as an outlet for strong emotions, the medium serving as a “safe” forum for expression. Those thoughts that are too provocative, frightening, or hurtful to be shared with another person can be let out in a private journal. The writing process is a pressure valve, an opportunity for catharsis that is almost unparalleled.

Returning to Rabbi Shapira for a moment, he offers another daring intervention based on this principle. At the end of the ninth chapter, the rebbe addresses the issue of reconciling with an enemy with whom the mutual hate is so great that you simply cannot find any redeeming qualities in this person:

This is what you should do. Write him a letter. Don't send it to him; hide it somewhere in your home. In the letter, insult and shame him as much as the serpent of anger in your heart desires. For some days, read the letter aloud, and imagine that you are standing in front of him, taunting and abusing him with all the expressions of the letter. After some days, you will find your anger has dissipated, and if you are a sensitive person, you may discover yourself running to reconcile with him. (Shapira, 1995)

More than an act of catharsis, the rebbe's advice shows a profound quality in our nature. After pouring out all the venomous feelings and thoughts about this person into this composition, the student is encouraged to reread it every few days. Despite the fact that in the heat of the moment he was able to pen such hateful, hurtful words, a few days later those words will seem to be alien and foreign, and he will have a hard time believing that we actually wrote them.

With every subsequent reading, the student will observe "Wow, I was being pretty harsh. He's not like that all the time..." and he will begin to see flaws in his hateful view of this person. Moreover, he will begin to find ways to counter the arguments made in the letter, and find redeeming qualities in this fellow as he subsequently revisits the letter. Eventually, the feelings of hate and anger will have been replaced by a powerful desire to reconcile with this person, and like Rabbi Shapira asserts, he will run to make peace with him.

Writing allows one to work through a problem, to record all the different factors swirling around in his thoughts and categorize them, and give him something to work with. When ideas are brought into the practical realm, it makes them more manageable to deal with – and a lot less scary.

Writing as Legacy

Writing serves another important function: the giving others a part of one’s self, preserved for posterity. Writing provides an opportunity to bestow on others an intellectual legacy, his curriculum vitae that can be passed on to subsequent generations of family members, students, and general audiences. Lord Byron wrote: “But words are things, and a small drop of ink, falling like dew upon a thought, produces that which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think.” Giving the world works that inspire creativity, that challenge people to consider (and reconsider) their tightly held notions, that encourages people to imagine something larger than themselves is an important value for many. Writing helps them achieve this goal and reach the greatest amount of people.

Aish Kodesh Hillula 5772

Congregation Aish Kodesh Rav Moshe Weinberger, Mara D'Asrah  Hilula L'Zecher the Aish Kodesh (Please Note New Location) This Motsai Shabbos, October 29/ 2 MarCheshvan, Aish Kodesh will be celebrating the annual Hilula for the Yahrzeit of our namesake, Harav Kalonimus Kalmish Shapira, ZY'A, HY'D, the Aish Kodesh, the Holy Rebbe of Piacezna. The Hilula will once again feature the music of Yosef Karduner and the Divrei Torah of Rav Weinberger.    The Hilula will take place at a new location (Not YILC). The Hilula will take place at Bnos Bais Yaakov (613 Beach 9th Street, Far Rockaway, in the lunchroom on the lower level). The Hilula will begin at 9:00 p.m.   Admission Donation: $10 Separate Seating   As usual, it is our policy to open this special event to as many people as possible to be inspired by the uniqueness of the Aish Kodesh himself, the heartfelt nigunim of Yosef Karduner, and the emotional and powerful Divrei Torah of our Rav, HaRav Moshe Weinberger, Shlita. We have always tried to keep the event affordable to everyone by having several sponsors step forward and become major sponsors of this holy evening. The opportunity exists for sponsorship of the Hilula. If you have the capability to sponsor the Hilula, and be Mezakeh Rabim with this event, please contact David Waltuch via reply email, or Elliot Blumenthal atelliot.blumenthal@bipc.com or (516) 457-7893.

I'm sure it will be awesome, like last year, and the years before it. I hope to attend, where I'll be able to spend time with a few hundred "friends" coming together to pay respects to the rebbe.

Winds of Change

I think that the coinciding of Shabbos Mevarchim Elul (on the Shabbos preceding the new month, we announce the arrival of the new month, and the exact time of the appearance of the new moon) and the approach of Hurricane Irene is particularly apropos. Anyone who lives in the Tri-State area was very busy on Friday preparing for the storm, stocking up on dry goods, batteries, emergency supplies, and the like. I know that I myself entered into Shabbos with more than a little anxiety, as I considered the responsibility of protecting my family in the event of an emergency, God forbid. I knew that ultimately the One Above would protect us, but I also recognized that I would have to be ready to take action...

Reb Kalonymos Kalman writes (see B'nei Machshava Tova; Hachsharas Avreichim) that any feeling is a key to the inner recesses of a person's soul; even if said feeling is completely related to the mundane, the physical, it can be capitalized upon to allow us into our deeper selves. During davening yesterday, as the prayer leader announced the imminent arrival of the month of Elul - the month that officially kicks off the season of repentance and Judgement - I tried to grasp this feeling of wary dread that Hurricane Irene inspired. I imagined hearing the news about the arrival of the King, and quickly running out to stock up on provisions - the mitzvot a parallel to batteries, Torah and prayer spiritual provisions that would keep my family and I sustained during times of scarcity, God forbid...

I think that whether or not Hurricane Irene inflicts major damage on our region, there are valuable lessons to learn from this occurrence...

Stay safe!

Mini Doc about the Piaseczna Rebbe

I found this a while ago on Dixie Yid's blog. If you understand Hebrew, it's worth seeing. Also, it has two photos of the rebbe that I have never seen elsewhere. if anyone knows where I can find those two pictures, I'd be much obliged...

Du, du, du!

I always appreciate it when two seemingly disparate things that I'm involved in come together; we have a tradition that if we come across similar concepts in separate limmudim during one day, there's a certain significance that we must take notice of.

This past Friday night after the seudah (meal), I came across the following:

It is well known that no Jewish person is ever utterly excluded from the totality (II Kings 14:14). When a person comes to a nadir, God forbid, and is about to commit some transgression - especially if this will cause his exclusion, God forbid - then God does not abandon him. We have learned in sacred literature that the miluy of the three Hebrew letters yud-tzadi-reish comprising the word "yetzer" (inclination) are (Y) vav dalid, (TZ) dalid yud, and (R) yud shin. The last letters of the miluy are the three letters of the name of God, Shad-dai (shin-dalid-yud). In order that the person not succumb entirely to his inclination, God forbid, the Holy Name Shad-dai is there at the end. When the person reaches the end, God does not allow him to fall any further. - Reb Kalonymos Kalman Shapira, Aish Kodesh (Kedoshim 1940)*

The next morning before shacharis, I found an idea that reflected the same concept:

There are places which are so low that they seem totally divorced from God. Yet it is precisely there that the most exalted life force is concealed: there are the "secrets of the Torah." A person who has fallen far must know that in the very place where he finds himself he can achieve unique closeness to God because of the exalted life force which is concealed in that very place. When such a person turns to God, a very high revelation of Torah comes about: the "Secrets of Torah." - Rebbe Nachman, Likutei MohaRan I:56 (as quoted in Meshivat Nefesh)**

The fact that we can find God in any place, no matter how far we seem to be from the Source, is a profound and fundamental teaching of chassidus (other paths of Jewish thought discuss this as well, but more so in chassidus, in my experience) . It is one that gives tremendous chizuk to many, including myself. I remember times when I felt so low, so disgusted with myself and my failings that I nearly despaired.

Despite all my efforts to the contrary, it always seemed like my urges and desires would get the best of me; even those times when I didn't necessarily feel the draw of my ta'avot, I would think about ways of stimulating and arousing those thoughts. Any victories would be short lived and fleeting, overwhelmed in the face of the sheer volume of times when I succumbed to my basest desires. Compounded by the existential struggles and questions that I grappled with in my adolescence, along with the negative experience of my high school years, I actually believed that there was no possible way that God would hear - let alone listen to - my prayers.

(Concerning one specific problem which is common amongst young men, I never felt so alone as when I was in high school. In my naivete, I believed that I was the only one who had this problem, certainly the only one who actually transgressed. This erroneous belief was reinforced by my teachers and peers, who stigmatized this particular sin as being heinous and particularly deviant; only the most evil minded people actually perpetrated this act. One particularly embarrassing moment was when my roommate "confided" in me that he had heard "someone" (I knew that he meant me, of course) in the bathroom, and proceeded to mock "that sicko" for what he had done, forcing me to join him in the lambasting to keep up the deceit.
The first time that I openly admitted it to a trusted friend, and he responded in kind with the reassurance that many of us go through this struggle, and that we must stay strong and help each other was like a weight lifted off of my shoulders; when I transferred to another yeshiva later I found a small group of honest individuals who were interested in reinforcing their shmirat einayim through the focus of a mussar seder with group support. But I digress.)

The teachings of Breslov and Reb Kalonymos Kalman specifically, and chassidus in general is about the omnipresence of God. The paradox of tzimtzum (Constriction) versus the panentheistic belief of God is irreconcilable to our finite intellect, and yet we believe in both. The very idea that there can be a place devoid of God's presence is antithetical to our ability to function as human beings engaged in the struggle for perfection. The knowledge that no matter how bad it gets we are not alone and all we need to do is fight back in earnest is an integral part of the human struggle. "One who comes to purify himself, we assist him."

This is the importance of real prayer, as explained later on in Meshivat Nefesh and other places: no matter where you go, the power of speech accompanies you (Rebbe Nachman explains that speech is the "mother of all children"; the same way a mother will follow her child into even the filthiest of places, so does the faculty of speech). Therefore, one should always engage in prayer and honest conversation with God, and with those whom he feels closest with, gaining mutual support.

*English translation adapted from Sacred Fire: Torah From the Years of Fury by J. Heshy Worch (Aronson)
**English translation adapted from Restore My Soul by Avraham Greenbaum (BRI)

Reb Kalonymos Kalman on Pesach

I found this over on Cross-Currents, courtesy of a guest contributor.

by Rabbi Binyomin Gidon HaLevi Kelsen, Esq.

Note: The following is a letter written in 1939 by the Piasceztna Rebbe to his followers before Pesach 5699 (1939). At this time, though the war had not yet begun, there were some indications of the horrors to come. The Piasceztna Rebbe had urged as many of his followers as possible to leave Europe. By April of 1939, Pesach 5699, it was becoming difficult if not impossible to get out of Poland. This letter sent out to his followers on Erev Pesach was meant to be a source of comfort and chizuk to his people. This letter was originally printed in Hebrew in Sefer Derech HaMelech, letters, p. 409.

My dear ones, I am calling to you and speaking to your souls. The Holy days of Pesach are approaching. The holiness of these days infuse us thoroughly; inside and out. Their light fills us and encompasses us.

Nevertheless as Dovid HaMelech is stated in Sefer Tehillim (97:11) “Ohr zarua laTzaddik, U’ l’Yishrei lev simcha” “Light is sown for the righteous and there is joy for the upright of heart”. Light is like a seedling; at the beginning it requires our nurturing and our efforts to foster its growth. Like a field needs plowing and hoeing and weeding watering, so do we need to prepare ourselves before the Chag. Without the preparation, there can be no joy, no growth and no light. With all the preparations needed for the festival, we must be careful not to divert our attention from ourselves, not to forget to draw down the Holiness of the season.

The main aspect of the festival is to be joyful; to praise and glorify Hashem Yisborach for all the miracles and all the goodness. This is actually the purpose of the entire creation and the essence of the relationship between the earthly creation and the heavenly family above.

When the time comes for the Pesach evening Ma’ariv prayer, you should rejoice in your tremendous fortune, in the great privilege you have to be engaged in the Avodah of Pesach. You should say to yourself, “My joy is without bounds that I have been granted the opportunity to achieve my purpose in the world and to be elevated to the upper spheres. True I have my problems, both material and spiritual, but for now I discard them, the entire world is longer important to me. I even nullify my own self in order to stand in the company of angels, awaiting the presence of the Ribbono Shel Olam. My only thought is to praise and glorify his great name and to draw down the Holy splendor of HKB”H’s light into the world, into my own soul and into the souls of my family.”

Your joy should so exalted that you feel that you can barely hold yourself back from breaking into an ecstatic dance; leaping from the earth to the heavens.

Afterwards when you sit at the Seder table, you imagine yourself sitting down to a festive meal in Gan Eden itself, participating in the celebration of the final redemption. All of the aspects of the Seder, eating the matzo and maror, drinking the four cups of wine, and reciting the Haggadah, Hallel and other songs of praise, comprise a holy service to Hashem. The angels above are crowded around to hear our praises of Hashem. Even Hashem himself rejoices in delight as he receives our praise and song as is known from the esoteric literature. A Jew is able to feel Hashem’s delight with each word that he utters from the Haggadah. He is imbued with such holiness that he is replete with sorrow when he finishes each word; if only he could go back and recite the Hallel another 1000 times, he would does so. His whole being is at one with his Creator as he recites words of incredible sweetness; the Haggadah lying open in front of him. One must endeavor to provide sanctuary for the holiness of this night, so that it will abide by him for the whole year.

…Continue to foster your love for your fellow Jew for that is the hinge on which all divine service revolves. . . I bless you with… Chag Kasher v’Sameach.

Kabbalah and Jazz: The Mystical Foundation of Improvisational Music

From Rabbi Adam Jacobs, via the Huffington Post:

In his great work To Heal the Soul, Rabbi Kalonymus Kalman Shapira wrote that all humans each have their own unique musical ladder -- a distinct melody that allows one to draw down spiritual sustenance into this world. This melody is exclusive and in essence can not be performed by anyone else. He believes that it is so individualized that to use someone else's ladder is like putting someone else's saliva into your mouth to sing. This concept is so ubiquitous, so universal, that Rebbe Nachman of Breslov went as far as to say that each and every blade of grass has its own unique melody as well. Very poetic, but is there any substance to it?
Years ago this assertion would have been harder to make but not so since the advent of String Theory. Though there are many who reflexively disparage it, the fact of the matter is that as time progresses, science and mysticism seem to be merging. For instance, since the time of Aristotle, the common wisdom was that matter had always existed. So ingrained was this notion that even Einstein was prepared to "fudge" his own math to uphold the view (a move he would later call "the greatest blunder of my career"). The 3,300-year-old Jewish view that there was a "Beginning" to reality as we know it stood out in sharp relief against the prevailing wisdom and was vindicated in the last century. Science had taken a step toward religion.
As science developed the technological capability to peer deeper and deeper into the essence of matter, the familiar notion of minute balls or dots of matter was formed -- electrons, protons, neutrons and the like. As it turns out, this picture now seems to be inadequate and has been replaced by Super String Theory, a concept that suggests that the tiny matter contained in the proton is actually composed of uber-small strings, the vibrations of which give rise to all of physical reality. So we see that at its core, the universe is created through sound. In that light, Rebbe Nachman's singing grass does not seem quite as quaint, but is actually substantial. String theory also helps to explain why G-d specifically used the medium of speech (as opposed to thought, deed or anything else) to create the world as outlined at the beginning of Genesis. (Interesting side note: String Theory only works based on a model of the universe that contains either 10 or 26 dimensions which happens to be the exact same numbers suggested by the great Kabbalist Rabbi Issac Luria in the 16th Century.)
What does all of this have to do with Jazz? Well, as we have explained, every facet of the universe is currently singing its own unique tune. This highlights the intrinsic need for us to "be ourselves," and indeed, musicians perform at their peak when they are internally consistent. Miles Davis had trouble finding himself early in his career, preferring to incarnate as a second Dizzy Gillespie. Miles finally asked him why he couldn't play like him and Dizzy wisely explained that Miles heard other sounds in his head and that he should play those. The results were stunning. I once heard the great bassist Dave Holland defend the music of Kenny G as "authentic." "You may not relate to it," he said, "but he's being true to himself and you need to applaud that."
In Conscious Community, another classic by Rabbi Shapira, he explains the prophetic connection to music. Jewish tradition records that the prophets of antiquity used music to lull themselves into the prophetic state. There is a wonderful description in the Talmud of King David's meditative practice. He would prop up his stringed instrument by the open window and in the middle of the night as the wind began to blow across the strings he would be awakened by the tune and begin the process of focusing his thoughts. Rabbi Shapira relates that when the musician begins, he is playing the music and after a while, the music begins to play him. Every serious musician knows this to be the case. In fact, this is the reason they are drawn to play to begin with.
When I gave my graduate recital at the New England Conservatory, there was a moment during improvisations on Mahler's 9th that I simply ceased to be in control of what was unfolding. I became an observer of the performance, aware of it but no longer directing it. Melodies and musical ideas that I had previously been incapable of playing flowed from my fingers. It was fantastic, and for those moments I needed nothing else from life. The audience applause came as a shock, and then it was gone. There is something that the music does to the psyche. What is it? What properties does it have that so elevates the heart and mind? In an evolutionary sense, music has no value. The deaf are quite as capable of propagating the species as anyone else. How is it that these ordered tones compel us so?
Jazz, by virtue of its improvisational nature, forces the players to intently focus on the here and now. The musicians are balanced on a tight rope, not knowing precisely where the other side is and needing to depend on each other to get there. This trust and inspirational flow is similar to our relationship to G-d -- the less we are weighed down by the past or fretting over the future, the more of that natural creative (and spiritual) flow we can access. Many of the players I've spoken to and played with acknowledge this dynamic. They know that they have become a vessel for something bigger. It's their version of a religious rite, though they might never give it that appellation.
Kaballah explains that there are five spiritual dimensions and that at the intersection of the highest two, four energies merge: Eden, souls, Torah and music. This implies that each one of these concepts is a doorway to the others. Though Goethe wrote that architecture was "petrified music," dance, sculpture, drawing et al are not mentioned. It seems as though music hits a plane of reality that is simply higher than other artistic endeavors. It is the language of reality itself and its building blocks. Musicians also know the feeling of deep connection to the other players. It might not last five minutes after they leave the stage, but there is something magical while it lasts. As all people possess souls and as the root of all souls emanates from the top of that fourth world, it would follow that music is also a doorway to the merging of people on a soul level. Pleasure, wisdom, unity and transcendence are all byproducts of the true musical experience.

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I found this here.

Yaakov Dovid Shulman is a versatile writer/translator/biographer/poet whose work appears in many books from both mainstream and independent Jewish publishing houses. He has translated B'nei Machshava Tova, as well as a primer of Breslov teachings, among many other things, and has made many of his works available for free online.

"Children, remember..."

From the Aliyah Blog, a transcription of a beautiful story from Rebbe Shlomo that carries significant weight with me, as it is the first introduction I had to Reb Kalonymos Kalman (kudos to my friend Neil Harris for pointing me in its direction):

The Holy Hunchback

By Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach zt”l

In the Warsaw ghetto there was a Rebbe, the heiliger Reb Klonimus Kalman. He wrote a book and knowing prophetically that he would not survive, he put the manuscript under one of the stones in the ghetto where it was found after the war.   

He had a yeshiva not of young people but of children. He was accustomed to say, “My followers eat on Yom Kippur. You know why-they are not bar mitzvah yet.” A great Rabbi would come to him, or an old man and a little girl of four or five. He would say to the older man, “You’ll make it without me. This child needs me.” With older people he would spend five minutes; with children all night. He had thousands of kids. He was their father, their mother, their best friend. After the war, there was nobody left.

My whole life I was hoping and dreaming to see one of these people. A few years ago I was walking on the Yarkon in Tel Aviv and I saw a hunchback -a street cleaner. Do you know that sometimes we are all little prophets? Our heart tells us something. I had a feeling this person was special. He was a real hunchback. That as his face was very handsome, but every part of his body was disfigured. And I said to him. “Hey, shalom aleichem my friend.” And he answered me in a very heavy Polish-Yiddish Hebrew, “Aleichem shoolum.” I said to him in Yiddish, “Mein zeisse yid, my sweet yiddele, where are you from?” He said, “I’m from Piaseczna .” I said “Piaseczna . Gevalt! Did you ever see Reb Klonimus Kalman?” “What do you mean, did I ever see him? I was a student in his yeshiva from the age of five to eleven. I was in Auschwitz for five years. I was eleven when I got there. They thought I was seventeen; I was so strong. They beat me up so much I never healed. That’s why I look this way. I have nobody in the whole world, really nobody, ” I said to him, “You know something-my whole life I have been waiting to meet one of the students of Reb Klonimus Kalman, Would you be so kind to give me over one of his teachings?” He kept on sweeping the street, “You really think that after five years in Auschwitz, I remember the teachings?” I said, “Yes-the words of the heileger Rebbe penetrate you forever.”

He stopped sweeping. He looked at me and said, “Do you really want to know?” He touched me so deeply and although you shouldn’t swear, I said to him “I swear to you, and I mean it with all my heart, that whatever you tell me I shall tell all over the world.” You know he was a real chasidisher Yid, so he put the broom against a wall and went to wash his hands. And this is what he said: “There will never be a Shabbos as by my holy master, my heiliger Rebbe. Can you imagine -hundreds, sometimes thousands of young people dancing with the holy rebbe in the middle. What a sight! Not until Meshiach is coming. Can you imagine the Rebbe making kiddush sitting with hundreds of children with so much holiness. He gave over teachings between the fish and the soup, between the soup and the meat, between the meat and the dessert and after every teaching, he would always say, “Kinderlach, taire kinderlach, my most precious children, gedenkst shon, remember, die greste sach in die velt ist, tun emetzin a tova. Children, precious children, just remember the greatest thing in the world is to do somebody else a favor. ”

When I came to Auschwitz, 1 knew my whole family had been killed and I wanted to kill myself. Each time I was about to, I suddenly heard the Rebbe’s voice saying to me, “Gedenkst shon, the greatest thing in the world is to do somebody else a favor.” Do you know how many favors you do in Auschwitz late at night? People dying, people crying; nobody had the strength even to listen to their stories anymore. I would be up all night. A few weeks later I wanted to kill myself again but always at the last moment I’d hear my Rebbe’s voice. Now I’m here in Tel Aviv, but believe me, I’m all alone, There are moments when I decide to commit suicide. I go into the sea until the water reaches my nose. Then suddenly I hear my Rebbe’s voice again and I just can’t permit myself to do it and I run back to the streets. Do you know how many favors you can do on the street?”

My friends, this was before Rosh Hashana. After Succos I came back to Israel and the first morning I went to the Yarkon and I asked the people on that street corner where the hunchback was. They said he died on the second day of Succos.

Listen to me, my beautiful friends, when the Meshiach comes, when all the holy people will come back to the world and the holy hunchback, the holy street cleaner will come back. He will clean the streets of the world. Do you know how he will clean the world? He will go from one corner of the world to the other and he will say, “Yiddelach, gedenkst shon, the greatest thing in the world is to do somebody else a favor.”

Looking for a remedy in all the wrong places

I would first like to issue a disclaimer stating that I usually don't read Mishpacha Magazine - the few encounters that I have had with the publication have given me sufficient reason to avoid reading it, despite buying it every week for my wife, l'kavod Shabbos Kodesh. I don't enjoy the subject matter they choose to feature, the writing style (or lack thereof), and the advertising (although that is not a complaint specifically against Mishpacha; these advertisements are featured in many publications). I do realize that I have a bias, but I have tried to ignore that several times when the cover has caught my eye (e.g. a few months ago, "Breslov Revisited" with Rav Weinberger and Rabbi Chaim Kramer of the Breslov Research Institute) with a subject that had tremendous potential and/or interest to me. I try to read such articles without prejudice and with an open mind.

That said, I found last week's cover story ("Hanging on by a Fringe") about outwardly frum teenagers struggling with serious hashkafic issues to be very disappointing.

While the cover blurb seemed very promising ("It's not about rebellion. It's about emptiness"), hinting that our mechanichim (educators) and Rabbis may finally be getting to the crux of the problem, the article itself ultimately seemed to present the same problems we have been dealing with - in a different form. Instead of an outward rebellion that manifested as dangerous behavior coupled with an external display in terms of appearance, we have kids who "dress the part" but are engaging in the same negligible activities as their "street" counterparts. When trying to determine the cause for such behavior, the interviewees quickly resorted to blaming external sources, including the same old villains: society, the Internet and modern technology that makes it more accessible, etc.

One of the anecdotes provided was about a yeshiva boy (a very good one, according to the article) in his late teens, preparing to go to the Holy Land for a year of learning. He "chanced" upon a neighbor's unprotected unfiltered (because his home naturally was protected with Pentagon level security) Wi-Fi connection, and happened on inappropriate images from websites of ill repute. These images led to a downward spiral that caused him to nearly shirk everything and have a serious spiritual setback.

No one is arguing the fact that the Internet can be an extremely dangerous place, and a filtering system and/or a buddy system like WebChaver is a prerequisite for safe Internet usage. However, to blame the Internet - effectively attributing the causes of our spiritual failings to it - is not only wrong, it increases our risk for more danger, because we are focusing on the wrong issues.

Moreover, some of the "professionals" correctly described the problematic element of indoctrinating kids through the educational system to carry out our religious duties by rote performance. This is obviously an issue, one that has been prevalent for quite some time. And although there is value in initiating children to the performance for the sake of getting them accustomed to it, that is a very basic level that needs to gradually be enhanced and deepened with explanations that suit their maturity to instill in them an appreciation. But by bombarding these kids with all sorts of proofs that illustrate the validity of the Torah is not the answer. Even if such tactics don't further confuse the kids, exacerbating the situation, this approach does not effectively address the real issue at hand, where the core of the problem lies. The intellectual rejection (or even ignorance) of Judaism and the tenets of faith is but a veneer that hides what is really deficient in our youth; no amount of dialectic will be enough to heal the gaping wound that is the essence of our spiritual atrophy, and ultimately it will not be able to staunch the flow.

In short, this article and many like them are only addressing the symptoms, and not the root cause.

It is my firm belief that many of our anxieties, including this problem, can be traced back to a severe lacking in recognizing God in each of our personal lives, and understanding the close relationship we have with Him.

Reb Shimshon Pincus OBM declared many years ago that we have "constructed a yiddishkeit devoid of HaShem", and I believe that this is in part what he was referring to. If each of us were able to feel God's presence in our lives - as a "living" "breathing" entity, as it were - many of our problems would be nonexistent. For all intents and purposes, we have relegated God to abstract, profound thinking, beyond the ken of the layman (it can be argued that this is the case even among the scholarly). Even the terms we use, such as "yira'at Shamayim" create a distance, a curtain between God and ourselves, so that we can comfortably discuss an idea (fear of Heaven) without really giving any thought to Who is in Heaven. This results in a serious emptiness,a God sized hole in our souls.

 If we truly appreciated God's presence in our lives, if we worked on feeling Him and His love, that would be a deterrent for many things, and not out of fear. If I am sensitive to God's feelings for me (so to speak), then the activities and things that create an adverse reaction in our relationship would be anathema to me. The first time the aforementioned teen stumbled on that dirty website, his initial impulse would be to fling away the offending device, because of the sensitivity to the precious nature of his personal relationship with God.

This is not limited to teenagers, either, and is another point that the article missed. As Reb Kalonymos Kalman writes in Chovat HaTalmidim, children base their actions on the adults in their lives, and gauge the suitability of their deeds according to the reactions of their elders. Additionally, children are especially adept at detecting insincerity and hypocrisy - and they learn from it. How else do you explain the people who wake up for vasikin, go to shiur without fail, and then commit the most heinous transgressions? If these people would but once ask themselves "And what does God have to say about this?" with real honesty, they would never step out of place. The numbness that the article should have discussed is present in all of us, at every age level, at every level of religiosity, without exception; it may very well be the avodat haYom for our generation to rekindle this feeling of closeness with God.

If you disagree, just look at the renaissance of Jewish literature concerning this topic that has gained an ever increasing popularity over the past few years. The Bilvavi Mishkan Evneh series, etc. all focus on this important foundation of Torah true Judaism: God loves you, and wants to be a part of your life. He cares for you, and takes care of you, and wants you to be like Him. We must increase our focus on this; if we do, I can almost guarantee that we won't need articles like this one anymore. But forget about all the peripheral issues, forget the proofs and the filters and all the other things that get rid of the symptoms while the body continues to weaken...

Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach (1925-1994)

Today is the 16th yahrtzeit of Rabbi Carlebach, affectionately known by many as Rebbe Shlomo.

Rebbe Shlomo was a wonderful singer whose soulful melodies gushed forth from the depth of his heart and penetrated to his listener's very souls. Both his original compositions and the songs that he breathed new life into as he introduced them to a younger generation and broader audience carry messages of hope and longing, of striving for a better world, of a harmonious existence of the spirit and body.

The stories that he would relate to us - stories of ordinary people accomplishing extraordinary feats as well as spiritual giants and their deeds - captured our imaginations and sent us soaring through the transcendent heights that one could reach, if we only "opened our hearts."

I'm well aware of the controversy surrounding Rebbe Shlomo, and I understand why many people have difficulty lending him any credence, but I cannot hep but give him his due. Despite his personal shortcomings, he played an integral role in bringing many people closer to HaShem, including myself. Rebbe Shlomo gave me my first taste of the warmth and energy of Judaism in general, and specifically the world of chassidus. With his stories, he escorted me into the world of Ishbitz and Breslov, and taught me about a holy rebbe from Poland who wrote staggering works filled with insight and love for Jews.

When I first encountered his music, I was going through a particularly difficult time, and I had many questions and not enough answers. Rebbe Shlomo seemed to be the first person to validate my feelings, to echo certain ideas and sentiments that I held that separated me from the more mainstream crowd. Through his world, I was introduced to the broad, textured, incredibly deep experience that being a Torah true Jew can be...

I owe him a tremendous debt for that...

I am sure there are others who feel the same way.

Z'chuso yagein aleinu.