5 Things I’m Grateful for During These Crazy Times

I’m tired of the word “unprecedented,” which has been overused in recent weeks, so here are five things for which I’m grateful in these never-before-seen days:

1. Dunkin’: The Dunkin’ on the corner of 33^rd Street and Second Avenue has remained open thus far. Although the store has shortened its hours, I can begin or end my daily walk with coffee—or occasionally a latte.

2. I.M. Pei’s Garden: I’ve always enjoyed the private, well maintained green space that separates the buildings of Kips Bay Towers, but even more so now. Today, the space bustled with couples, families, and others, out for a stroll, some fresh air, or just a change of scenery. We maintained our distance and our neighborly ways. It was lovely.

3. Technology: I have new appreciation for technology beyond the phone and have used FaceTime more in the last few days than ever before. As my sister said to me earlier today, “Why did it take a pandemic for us to start video-chatting?” A fair question…

4. Sunshine and Fresh Air: I’m not sure I ever fully appreciated the feel of fresh air on my face and in my lungs the way I do now, each time I step outdoors. Today’s brilliant sunshine was an added bonus, its warmth a welcome complement to the brisk spring air.

5. The Daily Vort (Yiddish for word): One of my new colleagues has been writing and sending a daily email to the staff that he’s entitled the Vort. No more than three or four paragraphs, each message contains timely Jewish content and a bit of inspiration for these troubled times. Reading them brings routine and comfort to days that don’t have enough of either.

Stay healthy and safe, my friends—and if you’re so inclined, let me know what you’re grateful for as you make the best of your time at home.

#BlogExodus: Bless

At 85, my dad doesn’t come into the city as often as in the past. Instead, my sister and I have been visiting our “country estate” about once each month, including this weekend.

Due to her business travel, she’s already there, occupying our “suite” that includes a bedroom smartly outfitted with two twin beds, like when we were kids, and our own bathroom. Not a bad set-up at all. I’ll travel there tomorrow morning and our plan is to go right from the train station in New Brunswick to the annual Bryn Mawr-Wellesley Book Sale at the Princeton Country Day School.

According to the book sale’s website, “We specialize in top-quality hardback and paperback fiction, non-fiction, academic, university press, and rare books, all sold at bargain prices,” which means the day will be a guaranteed good time for we three book-lovers. Experience tells me that after we’ve had our fill of books, we’ll perk up with coffee and a shared “sweetmeat” at Small World Coffee or Panera , before heading back to the estate and then out to dinner.

As my dad would say, “A good time will be had by all,” and he would, as usual, be right.

Indeed, we are blessed – all of us.

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima, this post is one in a series marking the days of the Jewish month of Nisan leading up to Passover, which begins at sundown on Friday, March 30, corresponding to the Hebrew date 15 Nisan 5778. If you want to play along, check out this year's #BlogExodus and #ExodusGram prompts.

#BlogElul 5777: Give (Up)

When I was a young adult, a kid whose interfaith family belonged to our temple asked her mom if she could give up Hebrew school for Lent.

Her sentiment resonates with me.

More than opting out of some of this year’s High Holiday services, though, I need to give up the guilt that seems to go hand-in-hand with opting out. In fact, I need to give up all the guilt and pressure and judgment and reproach I regularly and all too harshly impose upon myself about, well, nearly everything.

I’m not quite sure how to do this giving up, or even where to start, but I do believe that turning away from guilt and reproach and blame and shame will help me point myself toward being a better, more fulfilled, and less anxious person in the new year.

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima , this #BlogElul post is one in a series marking the days of the Hebrew month of Elul, which precede the Jewish High Holidays and traditionally serve as a time of reflection and spiritual preparation for the new year.

#BlogElul 5777: Bless

L’chi lach to a land that I will show you
Lech l’cha to a place you do not know
L’chi lach on your journey I will bless you
And you shall be a blessing L’chi lach

What does it mean to be a blessing?

I’m not entirely sure, but I think I got a taste of it this morning, when I arrived at Penn Station so early that I had time to pop into the Starbucks across the street for an iced coffee. As I sipped the coffee and watched the passing scene, a well-dressed young man came in and sat next to me just as he was finishing a call.

“Yeah, so this middle aged white guy stopped me and asked about how to get to MoMA. You think you’re being helpful, but I think he was distracting me because next time I checked, my wallet was gone. I stopped all the credit cards, but I have no ID and no cash. Thanks for your help…I’ll figure it out. Bye.

Then, he kept trying to reach people on his cell phone, but, unfortunately, he kept getting voice mail.

“Hi, it’s me. You’re probably still sleeping, and I know it’s a long shot, but please let me know if you’re coming into Manhattan today. Call me when you get this message.”

“Hi, Jen, it’s your brother. If there’s any chance you’re coming into the city today, please let me know. It’s a long story, but I need $!6 or $17 to get a train ticket. Love you.

This went on for three or four more calls, and with each one he became more distraught.

Imagining myself in his position, I would like to think someone might just hand me $20 so I could be on my way.

So, that’s what I did, telling him my hope.

“Can I at least mail it back to you so I don’t feel so embarrassed?”

“Don’t be embarrassed. This wasn’t your fault,” I said, as I gave him my card.

“Hi, Jane. I’m Steve…thanks so much. We’ll sure be talking about you at the dinner table tonight.

And then he was gone…back on his way to wherever he was headed in the first place.

Whether or not I hear from him, I so want to believe I was a blessing, and not part of a scam.

Maybe I was, and maybe I wasn’t; and I may never know.

L’chi lach and I shall make your name great
Lech l’cha and all shall praise your name
L’chi lach to the place that I will show you
L’simchat chayim L’chi lach
And you shall be a blessing L’chi each

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima , this #BlogElul post is one in a series marking the days of the Hebrew month of Elul, which precede the Jewish High Holidays and traditionally serve as a time of reflection and spiritual preparation for the new year.

#BlogElul 5777: Love

I love this kid...

and I can't wait to spend more time with him in the new year.

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima , this #BlogElul post is one in a series marking the days of the Hebrew month of Elul, which precede the Jewish High Holidays and traditionally serve as a time of reflection and spiritual preparation for the new year.

#BlogElul 5777: Fill

Here are nine reasons to recognize and remember my cup is filled, even (and especially) on the days it doesn’t feel as though it runneth over.

1. A longtime job with generous health and other benefits.
2. Longtime friends from all parts of my life.
3. Family that still enjoys being together – even as we drive each other nuts by being ourselves.
4. Coffee, including a Dunkin’ Donuts gift card that gets refilled for me from time to time.
5. More books than I can hope to finish anytime soon.
6. A synagogue community and weekly services that ground me. (They’d understand my desire to disappear right about now and resurface just in time to shake the lulav and breathe in the sweet scent of the etrog.)
7. A newfound love of learning to lift weights and box (yes, you read that correctly) – activities that also ground me.
8. A more than adequate roof over my head and a home that is a quiet refuge from the noise and other challenges of NYC living.
9. Knowledge of a genetic flaw and the wherewithal to act in a timely way to ensure it didn’t take my life, as well as a willingness and ability to use those experiences to support others who are on a similar path behind me.

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima , this #BlogElul post is one in a series marking the days of the Hebrew month of Elul, which precede the Jewish High Holidays and traditionally serve as a time of reflection and spiritual preparation for the new year.

#BlogElul 5777: Awaken

We’re more than halfway through Elul and until last night, I hadn’t yet heard the sound of the shofar. Its daily blasts during the month are supposed to awaken us and serve as a signal to get busy with the annual accounting of our soul that precedes the High Holidays. (When I lived in Los Angeles, where we could reach out the window and touch the building next door, a neighbor’s daily shofar blasts awakened me -- quite literally -- each day during Elul.)

Thank goodness, I’m back in New York, and thank goodness, too, there’s technology that let me watch a recording of a live stream from earlier in the day of cantorial student (and Shaaray Tefila's cantorial intern) Leah Shafritz’s fourth-year practicum. Her work focused on traditional Rosh HaShanah music and I enjoyed not only her beautiful voice and the melodies, but also her commentaries that accompanied each piece.

Toward the end of the practicum, she called for each of the four traditional shofar blasts – te’ki’ah, a long blast with one or two notes; sh’va’rim, three medium blasts, two tones each;te’ru’ah, nine short, staccato blasts; and te’ki’ah g’do’lah, an extra-long single blast – which were fulfilled, one by one, by someone out of range of the video camera. Nonetheless, as they always do, those blasts resonated in my kishkes (intestines), awakening me – even if not literally – to the forthcoming Days of Awe, and to the spiritual work surrounding them.

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima , this #BlogElul post is one in a series marking the days of the Hebrew month of Elul, which precede the Jewish High Holidays and traditionally serve as a time of reflection and spiritual preparation for the new year.

#BlogElul 5777: Pray

Last week, I received an email from a publicist inquiring if I would like a review copy of the new and updated edition of the The Book of Blessings by Marcia Falk. I jumped at the chance to acquire a copy of a book that has long been on my wish list.

As if in synch with #BlogElul, the book – full of poems, blessings, and prayers – arrived today, when the daily prompt is “pray.” How fitting.

It is late and I am tired, but even a quick perusal of the book’s pages tells me it overflows with spiritual beauty and sustenance. Its words, carefully strung together, form an intricate lattice that helps us reach our souls, our hearts, our God.

There is much exploring to do amidst its pages, but tonight, now, this is the blessing I pray:

Blessing Before Going to Sleep

Sleep descending
on my lids,
on my limbs,

I call to mind
the gifts
of the day—

the gift
of this day—
and give thanks.

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima , this #BlogElul post is one in a series marking the days of the Hebrew month of Elul, which precede the Jewish High Holidays and traditionally serve as a time of reflection and spiritual preparation for the new year.

Why I Keep Telling My BRCA Story

Recently, I was invited to write about my BRCA journey for Invitae, a genetic information company, as part of a campaign to inform and inspire people to understand the impact of hereditary breast cancer. The hope is that these stories will jump-start a Facebook conversation about hereditary cancer.

In recognition of Hereditary Breast and Ovarian Cancer (HBOC) Week, which bridges ovarian cancer awareness month in September with breast cancer awareness month in October, I am pleased to share the piece I wrote for Invitae.

Although I tell my BRCA story again and again, it never seems to get old. There are always new people to hear it, and its potential to change the trajectory of just one person’s life makes the telling and the retelling – and all the sharing – worth it.

#BlogElul 27: Bless

Just as Julie Andrews, in The Sound of Music, sings about her favorite things -- raindrops on roses, whiskers on kittens, brown paper packages -- these are a few of my favorite blessings:

For New, Special, and First-time-this-year Events

Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech haolam, 

shehecheyanu, v'kiy'manu, v'higianu laz'man hazeh.

We praise You, Eternal God, Sovereign of the universe, for giving us life, for sustaining us, and for enabling us to reach this time of joy.

#BlogExodus: Praise

In her Pesach message, emailed to the Shaaray Tefila community this morning, Rabbi Deborah Hirsch urges us to “…remember the promise and hope for a better world….feel God’s redemptive power….[and] ever treasure God's blessings of freedom and life.”

#BlogExodus: Celebrate

As readers of this blog know, I’m sort of blue this week.  Nonetheless, I’m trying to find little moments to celebrate.

#BlogExodus: Baffled by “Bless”

I’m a little bit baffled about the meaning of the word “bless.”  Nothing Merriam-Webster says about it strikes me as particularly Jewish.  Same with the online OED.

On the other hand – and not surprisingly – the explanation offered by ReformJudaism.org resonates with me:  “Throughout Jewish history, the deepest feelings and longings of the soul have been given expression in the form of blessings (brachot) for nearly every occasion, both ordinary and extraordinary, and a liturgy for both daily and sacred times.”

#BlogElul: To Know or Not to Know

When I lived in Los Angeles more than a decade ago, the father of one of my colleagues had breast cancer.  In light of the diagnosis, his doctors suggested that my colleague have genetic counseling and possible testing for a BRCA gene mutation.

"No, I don't want to know," she told them.  "Whatever will be will be."

By contrast, more than two years ago, on the day after this blog post about BRCA awareness went live, a different former colleague wrote to say, "I just wanted to tell you that I found your blog so inspirational."

A few weeks ago, she wrote again:  "Hey Jane.  I wanted to tell you that

my father and I met with a genetic counselor to assess my risk of getting breast cancer  My dad was tested for the BRCA gene and it ended up being negative.  Thanks so much for talking about your experiences in a public manner.  It really inspired me to check out my own health."

I responded with this:  "Plonit -- thanks so much for your message!  I'm thrilled that your dad's test was negative and that my experience prompted you to get tested.  That's exactly why I do it!  Thank you!!"

Needless to say, I'm pleased to know that my efforts to raise awareness about BRCA mutations, especially within the Ashkenazi Jewish population are meeting with some success.  I'm glad to know, too, that my friend's father tested negative for a mutation and that she and her siblings are not at any greater risk for cancer (breast, ovarian, prostate, pancreatic and melanoma) than people in the general population.

As for my friend in Los Angeles, I hope she knows that even though she's opted not to test for a known BRCA gene mutation, she (and her daughter, beginning at age 25) should be doing surveillance as though they had, in fact, tested positive.  The regimen includes a mammogram once a year and an MRI six months later, meaning that they'd be getting each mode of testing no more than once a year (so insurance will cover the costs), but also getting two chances in one calendar year to be checked, increasing the likelihood of finding disease, if any, in its earliest, most curable stage.

Whether or not individuals want to know their BRCA mutation status, it's critically important that they know and understand the risks associated with these mutations and that they use that knowledge to make decisions about testing that are right for them and their families.

For more information about hereditary breast and ovarian cancer (HBOC) syndrome or to locate a certified genetic counselor who can help your family assess its risk, check out the website of FORCE: Facing Our Risk of Cancer Empowered.

In the year ahead, may we all have access to the knowledge and resources necessary to make the best possible decisions for ourselves, our families, and our loved ones.  Amen.


Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima, this #BlogElul post is one in a series marking the days of the Hebrew month of Elul, which precedes the Jewish High Holidays and traditionally serves as a time of reflection and spiritual preparation for the new year. 

#BlogElul: Keeping the Weeds of Acceptance in Check

Life is full of conditions and scenarios -- significant and mundane -- that we don't understand.

Why do healthy people who take care of their bodies get cancer?

Why can't we obliterate racism, bigotry, anti-Semitism, homophobia, sexism, and all the other -isms that plague the world -- and the people in it?

Why do the rich get richer and the poor get poorer?

Why do bad things -- airplane crashes, ferry sinkings, terrorist attacks, depression, fires, freak accidents, drugs and alcohol, drownings, suicides, homicides, heart attacks, and more -- happen to good, innocent people?

Why are we plagued by political corruption, famine, disease, violence, and what, if anything, can we do to ameliorate these ills?

I wish we had all the answers...

But since we don't, the best that we can do is to "grow where we are planted."

For some, growing means taking social action -- writing to lawmakers, lobbying, or protesting cruelty, injustice and inequality.

For others, growing means conducting cutting-edge scientific research, advocating on behalf of those stricken with a particular illness, or delivering a meal (and a few extras for the freezer!) to a sick friend and staying for a visit while she eats.

For still others, growing means running a marathon for a cause, stocking a food pantry, serving meals to the hungry, or donating blood or platelets.

Sadly, some people don't take too well to growing -- to soil and fertilizer or to water and sunlight.  They'd rather accept the status quo.

I believe, though, that learning and growing help us to accept what we do not understand.  Sometimes they can move us closer to a partial understanding, even if there's not complete clarity or comprehension.  Nonetheless, those of us who grow and thrive where we are planted help to keep the weeds of indifference, apathy, and blind acceptance in check.

Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu melech ha-olam for enabling us to learn and grow where we are planted, and, when necessary, to accept those things that we cannot understand.



Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima, this #BlogElul post is one in a series marking the days of the Hebrew month of Elul, which precedes the Jewish High Holidays and traditionally serves as a time of reflection and spiritual preparation for the new year. 

#BlogElul: An Abundance of Blessings

Many years ago, the URJ's now defunct Department of Worship, Music and Religious Living, in conjunction with URJ Books and Music, published a daily blessings card.

Small enough for a wallet or purse, it includes the appropriate blessings to recite for various foods, life moments, wonders of nature, learning, social action, and upon embarking on a journey.

My well-worn blessings card is always with me because I just never know when I might hear good news, narrowly escape danger, or see a rainbow.

Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu melech ha-olam zokher hab'rit v'ne'eman bivrito v'kayam b'ma'amaro.

We praise you, Eternal God, Sovereign of the universe, who remembers, is faithful to, and fulfills Your covenant with and promise to creation.

Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu melech ha-olam who has the power to write and seal us in the Book of Life and grant us abundant blessings in the New Year -- restored health, rewarding relationships, satisfying work, healing from sorrow and loss, sweet memories, opportunities to help others, contentment, pleasure, and peace.  Amen.


Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima, this #BlogElul post is one in a series marking the days of the Hebrew month of Elul, which precedes the Jewish High Holidays and traditionally serves as a time of reflection and spiritual preparation for the new year. 

Leslie Bruni and Panera Girl

Photo:  Panera Bread

This op-ed in today's New York Times about the several-hundred-mile car trek Frank Bruni's niece and her grandfather took together recently reminded me of the young girl I saw in Panera the other day.  Although Leslie has only four or five years on "Panera Girl," she's eons ahead of her in wisdom.

They were standing in line in front of me--a bat mitzvah-ish age young woman with, I surmised, a bubbe and a tante, out for breakfast together during spring break.  Surly, exasperated by their questions about what she might like to eat, and preoccupied with her phone, she could learn a thing or two from Leslie.  

Had it been appropriate, I might have made these suggestions to "Panera Girl" as we waited in line:

1. Smile, say cheese, and take some selfies of the three of you.  Bubbe and Tante will be amazed at what your phone can do, and someday you'll treasure those photos.
2. Give them your earbuds and let them listen to some of your favorite songs.  Tell them about the singer or ask them about their favorite songs.  
3. Tell them what you're learning in history class.  Ask if they remember that time; they just might be able to give you a first-hand, one-of-a-kind perspective that's not in any of your textbooks. 
4. Ask them what books they read in junior high school.  Jane Eyre?  Anne of Green Gables?  A Tree Grows in Brooklyn?  Try to find one or two of them the next time you're in the library or at Barnes and Noble.  You might be pleasantly surprised with what you'll find in the pages of these classics.
5. Ask where they went on their honeymoon.  How did they get there?  How long did they stay?  What did they see and do?  

As the three of them carried beverages and a small tray of goodies to a table, I left with my coffee.  I hope they enjoyed their breakfast, found some common ground for conversation, and created a few sweet memories to treasure.

#BlogExodus: Be

We Jews are a kvetchy people.

Tonight, when we gather 'round our seder tables, before the first glass of wine is spilled and before the Four Questions are asked and before the Hillel sandwiches are eaten, let us just be.

Let us be thankful for the friends and family who surround us, whether across the table or across the globe, and for the sweet memories of those whose chairs are now filled by others, but who live always in our hearts.

Let us not worry about whether the matzah balls are sinkers or floaters, but let us be grateful for the abundance of nourishing food we have to sustain our bodies each day.

Let  us not grumble about the wooden folding chair beneath our tushies (or begrudge those who are sitting in padded chairs).  Let us glance appreciatively instead at the ceiling above our heads, recognizing its value not only on this warm spring night, but especially on each of the many frigid nights that preceded it.

Let us put aside the first-world Egypts that challenge us from day-to-day, vowing instead to be...just to be...and to revel in our families, our friends, our freedoms, and the many other blessings that are ours.

Chag Pesach sameach!


Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima, this post is one in a series marking the days of the Jewish month of Nissan leading up to Passover, which begins at sundown on Monday, 14 Nissan. If you want to play along, check out this year's #BlogExodus and #Exodusgram prompts.

#BlogExodus: From Enslavement to Blessing

When I first started to think about what I might write in a post around the theme "enslave," this paragraph from The Union Prayer Book popped into my head. (Yes, I hail from the generation that can recite it in its entirety from memory.):

May the time not be distant, O God, when Thy name shall be worshiped in all the earth, when unbelief shall disappear and error be no more. Fervently we pray that the day may come when all men shall invoke Thy name, when corruption and evil shall give way to purity and goodness, when superstition shall no longer enslave the mind, nor idolatry blind the eye, when all who dwell on earth shall know that to Thee alone every knee must bend and every tongue give homage. O may all, created in Thine image, recognize that they are brethren, so that, one in spirit and one in fellowship, they may be forever united before Thee. Then shall Thy kingdom be established on earth and the word of Thine ancient seer be fulfilled: The Lord will reign forever and ever.

It's not superstition that enslaves my mind, though.  It's negativity.

In chatting with a friend yesterday, she shared that when she finds herself similarly enslaved, she counts her blessings -- literally.  Each night, she says, she records three blessings from the day just ended, focusing on good, positive events and experiences in spite of whatever frustrations, disappointments, or difficulties may have dogged her during the day.

Last night, I gave it a try, jotting these notes in a journal:

April 3, 2014
Three Blessings
1. Conversations with friends
2.  30 minutes of relaxation (Jeopardy)
3.  The brightness and warmth of sunshine at lunchtime

Although this practice certainly isn't a panacea for the ills of the world, it can help me stay focused on the goodness that comes my way, recognize my gratitude for the blessings in my life, and let go of some of the negativity that I seem to collect so easily.

In fact, I think I'll try it again tonight...

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima, this post is one in a series marking the days of the Jewish month of Nissan leading up to Passover, which begins at sundown on Monday, 14 Nissan. If you want to play along, check out this year's #BlogExodus and #Exodusgram prompts.

Fruit and Books: High Holiday Traditions

Photo: wikipedia.com

When I blogged about the first time my dad and I went browsing in Barnes and Noble on Yom Kippur afternoon, a friend commented on the post, telling me about her father's custom of buying fruit on Rosh Hashanah and how her whole family would then enjoy it in the kitchen following services.  It's a custom she continues today with her own family.

Reading up on the Rosh Hashanah fruit tradition, I learned from myjewishlearning.com that "[o]n the second night of Rosh Hashanah, it is common to eat a "new fruit"--a fruit that participants have not tasted for a long time. This tradition has become a way literally to taste the newness of the year, by enjoying an unfamiliar food....(Interestingly, the custom developed as a technical solution to a legal difficulty surrounding the recitation of the shehehiyanu blessing on the second day of the holiday. The blessing, usually recited to commemorate a new situation, is said on the second day of Rosh Hashanah both in honor of the day and the new fruit.)"

I thought about the fruit story this afternoon when, needing a break from my desk, I went down to the "fruit guy" on the northeast corner of 40th Street and Third Avenue. Perusing the selection, I asked him about what looked like mini limes on a vine. The handwritten cardboard sign in front of them said "Ginipes," which he told me are South American lychees.  Familiar with lychees from many a local Chinese restaurant, I nodded and gave him an "ahhh" of recognition.  He then broke one off the vine and handed it to me. I bit tentatively through the leathery green skin (which I now know is not for eating!), but found the flesh underneath too slimy for my taste.

Even though I ended up with more traditional fruits--bananas, grapes and plums--and even though it's been more than a week since the second day of Rosh Hashanah, I offer this shehecheyanu in honor of the ginipe, which was a new fruit to me this afternoon:

Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech haolam,
shehechehyanu, v'kiy'manu, v'higianu laz'man hazeh.

We praise You, Eternal God, Sovereign of the universe, for giving us life, for sustaining us, and for enabling us to reach this time of joy.

(In case you're wondering, yes, my dad and I did go to Barnes and Noble again this year, and in a break with tradition, his friend Bobbi joined us.  Too unfocused to do any serious browsing, the three of us wandered through the store, looked at books without really seeing them, chatted, and just spent some holiday time together.  After about an hour, we returned to the temple for the rest of the afternoon.)