It has long been taught that Judaism, as a rule, sanctifies time—not people or places. Our sacred rhythms rise and fall with the days of the week, the months of the year, and the cycle of holidays. Shabbat each week brings something to celebrate—a moment to pause and reflect.This Shabbat is known as Shabbat Mevarchim HaChodesh; this occurs monthly on the Shabbat before Rosh Chodesh, the start of the new month. Accompanied by a special blessing for the new month, this happens every month except one: Tishrei. Therefore, this Shabbat—Shabbat Mevarchim HaChodesh Elul—is the final blessing for the new month which we will offer in 5784. Many of the Hasidic commentaries suggest that there is a special power in this month’s blessing; it is a culmination of all that has come before and a preparation for that which is still to be.This is the month for unfinished business; for gathering [...]

Rabbi Martin Buber, the great early 20th century theologian, told this story of Reb Simcha Bunem, an 18th century Hasidic rebbe. According to legend, the rebbe always carried with him two slips of paper, one in each pocket. One was inscribed with a saying from the Talmud: “for my sake the world was created.” On the other, he wrote a phrase from the Torah itself: “I am but dust and ashes.” He would take out and read each slip of paper as necessary for the given moment. Rabbi Hanna Yerushalmi is a therapist and a poet, and her words have been among my guides and my balms during these months since October 7. After yesterday’s news of another miraculous IDF rescue of a hostage—this time Bedouin father of eleven Qaid Farhan Alkadi—she posted the below poem. Based on Reb Simcha Bunem and his knowledge that each of us should [...]

I want to return to Muir Woods and the fallen trees for a moment. Actually, I want to return to one tree in particular. Most of the fallen trees we saw were smooth, worn away by the years. But as we rounded the corner towards the silent Cathedral Grove, there was a giant tree, completely uprooted. Around it and on it and over it, it was easy to see those cycles of nature about which Laura Gilpin wrote; there was moss and bark disintegration and new growth, all the greens and browns sharing space, interacting with each other and the sun and the shade and the air. But, based on the reading I did in preparation for speaking about the banyan tree last year, I found myself focused on the roots. Because here is the thing about redwood trees and their roots: Unlike the banyan tree, whose roots may dig deeper [...]