The Rising Life

I’m crying today as I say the blessing. A dear woman, wife of a dear friend of my husband’s, only 38 years old has passed away leaving orphans and devastation. It’s beyond comprehension. I think of their Tatty trying to explain. I can’t control my tears. I say the blessing on my challah – and I don’t even know what I’m praying for today – only to feel the connection, to feel Hashem’s love. And as I remove the piece of dough, and carefully wrap it up so I don’t confuse it with the rest of my dough – I am reminded that this piece is not for me. This is Hashem’s piece of dough. This is the part that I can never consume, never absorb – I need to render it completely inedible. Maybe there’s somet

Exhilarated. Exhausted. That’s a pretty decent summation of my feelings coming home tonight at midnight from leading a Challah workshop consisting of over 50, incredible women in Midtown Manhattan. This was one of those weeks. Every piece of my crazy (awesome) life seemed to need my attention at the same time. In general, I have busy ‘design weeks’ and then busy community weeks, and family weeks, and ‘challah career’ weeks, but then sometimes, it all comes together in this perfect storm -and I feel pulled in every direction – not knowing which way to turn first – which fire do I put out?? Who needs me the most right now? Am I spending too much time on this area of my life? Should I be putti