Sarah’s husband promised to be home early. Dinner was ready, the kids kept asking when their father would arrive, and then six o'clock came and went. By the time he walked in, she was disappointed and hurt. In her mind, the story had already written itself: He forgot and doesn't care.

He immediately explained: a bad accident had traffic backed up for miles. The hurt disappeared instantly. The delay was real but the pain had come from the story she'd built around it.

We all do this. A friend doesn't say hello and we assume she's upset with us. A text goes unanswered and we feel ignored. Psychologists call this cognitive appraisal: our emotions follow the meaning we attach to events, not the events themselves.

Ethics of the Fathers teaches: “Judge every person favorably.” It's a practical reminder that our first read on a situation is rarely the full picture.

Here are five ways to put that wisdom to work in your own relationships.

1. Your First Explanation Is Rarely the Only One

People rarely fight about the event itself. They are usually fighting about what they believe the event means.

A client felt crushed by her business partner because he had stopped including her in some early-stage emails. She became convinced that he was quietly trying to push her out of the business. The reality turned out to be completely different: he knew she was caring for an ill parent and was trying to protect her time and energy.

She interpreted the fewer emails as betrayal.

When she pauses to ask, “Is there another way to understand this?” she discovered her partner was in fact acting with kindness and sensitivity.

2. The Story Creates the Feeling

Your emotions respond to the meaning you give what happens.

A friend doesn’t text back for several hours and your immediate thought is, She’s ignoring me. You will naturally feel hurt, anxious, or defensive.

If your thought is, She’s probably busy and will answer when she can, your emotional experience will be completely different.

The situation hasn’t changed; only the interpretation has.

Before you let a feeling determine how you respond, it’s worth examining the story underneath it.

Your feeling may be real, while the explanation we attached to it may not be.

3. You Collect Evidence for What You Already Believe

Once you settle on a fixed narrative about someone—that a spouse is inconsiderate, a teenager is irresponsible, or a colleague is difficult—your mind naturally begins to search for proof to support that belief.

A forgotten errand, a delayed text, a minor mistake—suddenly everything gets folded into the same ongoing argument in your head.

You stop seeing individual moments and start seeing people through a rigid lens. You stop responding to the actual person in front of you and begin reacting to the version of them you have created in your mind.

Judging favorably allows us to keep people open and complicated. It reminds us that one moment does not define an entire person.

4. Judging Favorably Doesn’t Mean Ignoring Reality

Some people worry that giving others the benefit of the doubt means ignoring red flags, denying your feelings, or excusing genuine harm.

That is not what the Torah is demanding.

Judging favorably means separating facts from the conclusions you quickly add to those facts.

• The fact: They didn’t call back. / The story: I don’t matter to them.
• The fact: They spoke sharply. / The story: They don’t respect me.

Sometimes the difficult story will turn out to be true. Sometimes people really do make mistakes, act carelessly, or hurt you.

But leaving room for another possibility before jumping to conclusions is recognizing that you almost never have the complete picture of what is happening inside another person’s heart.

5. The Story You Choose Shapes the Relationship You Build

The interpretations you believe influence your tone, your body language, and how willing you are to listen.

When you approach someone assuming good intentions, something changes. Your voice softens, your curiosity grows, and you become less focused on proving your point and more interested in understanding the other person.

People can sense whether they are being approached with suspicion or with trust, and they often respond accordingly.

Of course, relationships require honesty. Sometimes conversations need to happen, boundaries need to be set, and difficult truths need to be addressed.

But there is a big difference between responding to reality and reacting to an assumption.

The next time you feel a sudden surge of frustration or hurt, try asking yourself two simple questions:

What are the objective facts here?
And what is the story I am adding to those facts?

That small pause may be the difference between reacting to a story and responding to a person.

And often, that is where kindness, understanding, and stronger relationships begin.

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The famous naturalist Charles Darwin abandoned his life-long belief in a “beneficent God” because, in his mind, God’s creations do not behave in a manner that Darwin could reconcile as being “good.” His “proof” was through the observation of nature. Some wasps lay their eggs in live caterpillars and their larvae eat their way out. Cats frequently torment mice by “playing” with them.

However, this argument presumes that God (and all of His creation) must fit into a human definition of the nature of “good.” This line of thinking has many flaws – the most glaring one being that a finite being cannot begin to fathom the true nature of an infinite God. Limiting God by making Him fit into a human value system represents a profound misunderstanding of the nature of God.

In essence, Darwin is saying: “I cannot imagine why a beneficent God would create a wasp that eats a caterpillar alive.” Darwin is somehow totally oblivious to the fact that it only establishes the limits of his imagination; it does not “prove” anything about God.

A further illustration: At some point, every two-year-old can come to the conclusion that their parents must hate them. After all, their parents refuse to give them as much candy as they want, they “force” them to bathe and go to sleep, and they “torture” them by taking them to doctors to get probed and endure painful shots.

Actually, all three of those events can easily happen in any 24-hour period and a child, with an extremely short perspective (and memory), may conclude that their parents are their greatest enemy. In fact, if you haven’t at some point heard your child yell at you “I hate you!” then you might be doing something wrong. If a child cannot properly discern the true intent of his parents (who only have a slightly larger perspective than him), then how can we possibly divine the true intention of God Who has an infinitely greater perspective than us?

This is the overarching theme of the Book of Job. Initially, Job demands an explanation for his incredible suffering, and God’s response is – strikingly – not an explanation of why each particular tragedy occurred.

Instead, God essentially confronts Job with the limits of his vantage point: “Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?” (Job 38:4). The point is not “suffering isn’t painful.” It is: you are attempting to judge the architecture of reality while only seeing an infinitesimal portion of it.

The only true understanding of what is good and moral is in God’s Torah – an “owner’s manual” gifted to mankind, which defines what is good and how we ought to live in order to have the most meaningful and fulfilling lives. Of course, atheists have a problem with the very essence of that statement. They basically define morality as being whatever humanity can all agree upon as being right and good. In support of this view, atheists just love to raise what is known the “Euthyphro dilemma.”

The “Euthyphro dilemma” asks, how does God know what is moral? Plato wrote a dialogue in which Socrates essentially asks Euthyphro, “Is what is morally good commanded by God because it is morally good, or is it morally good because it is commanded by God?”

The very foundation of this argument – that good can possibly exist outside the essence of God and that perhaps God tried to match up His commandments with what is objectively good – once again betrays a profound misunderstanding of the Essence of God. As Maimonides points out in the first principle of his Thirteen Principles of Faith – God is the Primary Cause of all that exists. This is also touched upon in the second principle; God has an absolute and unparalleled unity. In other words, there is nothing outside of the Essence of God.

This would have been very hard for Plato to intuit, seeing as the Greeks had a very different understanding of what is a god. Essentially, they believed that gods are rather similar to human beings, but just far more powerful. Their gods consistently fight with each other, engage in very strange and questionable behavior, and are totally susceptible to all of mankind’s moral failings. Little wonder that their philosophical understanding of the nature of God is so shallow.

Naturally, this reminds me of a joke. A kindergarten teacher was walking around her classroom admiring the concentration that her young students were applying to their artwork. She came across a six-year-old girl drawing a picture of a man inside a whale. “That’s pretty interesting, what are you drawing?”

"It's Jonah from the Bible, inside the belly of the whale.” She replied.

The teacher, an avowed atheist, told her “You know that didn’t really happen, right?”

The young girl kept drawing while considering her teacher’s words. Finally, she responds, “I guess when I get to heaven, I’ll just ask Jonah.”

“What if he’s not in heaven?” The teacher questioned.

The girl, still drawing, paused for a moment and looked at her teacher, “Then you’ll ask him.”

In this week’s Torah reading we find a very interesting aspect of Jewish law and its enforcement.

“You shall appoint judges and policemen in all your gates that God your Lord has given you, and they will judge the nation justly” (Deuteronomy 16:18).

The sages seem to be bothered by a glaring omission in the verse. The verse starts out saying that we must appoint judges and police officers, yet only seems to describe the job of the judges; “and they will judge the nation justly.” There is no independent mention of the role of the policemen.

The great Biblical commentator known as Rashi explains this by quoting the Midrash that defines the role of the police officers: “They are the ones who enforce the law on the people and impose the verdict of the judge.” We see from here that the role of the police force was to support the judges; in other words, they are part of the system of courts.

This is a fascinating departure from the American system of jurisprudence. In American law, the judges are in the judicial branch of government, but all the enforcement of the law falls under the executive branch. That is to say that police officers, sheriffs, and other law enforcement personnel work for the local, state, or national municipality; whether it is the mayor, governor, or president. This is because, under the American system, the judges bear no responsibility for the practical application of law, just the determination of it.

However, under the Torah system of law, the judges are required to not only adjudicate issues that come before them, but to also oversee the application and enforcement of the laws. Thus the police force is the enforcement arm of the judicial system. In other words, the American system of jurisprudence simply charges the judges with determining the law while the Jewish system makes them fully responsible for the law; charging them with the responsibility of maintaining the integrity of the law as well.

Maimonides (Yad Sanhedrin 1:1) takes this one step further and explains that the officers not only enforced the laws and administered the punishments for those who violated them, but they were also responsible for maintaining a moral and honest society. The police were responsible for monitoring the markets to make sure there was no price collusion or gouging and that all the weights and measures used in the marketplace were accurate and honest.

In the American system, one which places a high priority on a “separation between church and state,” the law of the land isn’t really driven by morality – rather it is based on the values of social justice and keeping the peace. There is a basic (unspoken) understanding that you can do what you want as long as you aren’t hurting anyone.

But in the Torah system of law, the laws are there primarily for the betterment and growth of the individual; to make sure that people live rich and rewarding lives. The Torah laws aren’t primarily driven by the purpose of maintaining law and order just to make sure society doesn’t devolve into anarchy; our primary concern is promoting a moral society that reflects the values that God has ordained for this world.

In a similar vein, living a Torah life begins when we stop demanding to know why God did this or that and begin asking what God wants us to do with it. “Why?” seeks entrance into the mind of God; “What?” turns the experience into a mandate for growth. Only in this way can we reach our individual potential and contribute to building the society for the betterment of the world and fulfill the ultimate realization of God’s purpose for the world.

Shoftim, Deuteronomy 16:18 - 21:9

Topics in this week’s portion include: Judges and Justice, “Sacred Trees and Pillars,” Blemished Sacrifice, Penalties for Idolatry, The Supreme Court, The King, Levitical Priests, Priestly Portions, Special Service, Divination and Prophecy, Cities of Refuge, Murder, Preserving Boundaries, Conspiring Witnesses, Preparing for War, Taking Captives, Conducting a Siege, and the Case of the Unsolved Murder.

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"Honey, can we talk about something?"

Let me tell you what happens when your spouse hears that sentence.

Uh oh. What did I do now?

He or she is already on guard, and before you even try to bring "it" up, it's game over.

If you randomly approach your spouse with a conversation starter like this, they're already gearing up for a negative conversation.

A spouse knows what typically follows the words "I have something important to talk about." That’s why hard conversations often feel like an ambush.

The solution takes ten minutes a week. And it actually works.

Here's how the idea came to me:

A couple in Los Angeles had quadruplets, the first set born in the city in 25 years. Six people pitched in to help around the clock, with nobody sleeping. Before the babies were even born, the couple held a standing weekly meeting, every Monday, with calendars open, run like a business: who takes the helmet appointment Thursday, who's on the 9 a.m. feed, who does bathtime.

We can do same thing with the marriage itself. Not a meeting where you smuggle in a complaint, but a standing time to talk about the relationship, both the good and the hard parts, out in the open.

The trouble with a good idea is the distance between "I should do that" and "I did that." That distance is the longest journey there is.

So lean on habit stacking: pin the check-in to something that already happens every single week without fail. Every Monday night after dinner, for instance, have your ten minutes.

My husband and I do this every week. We call it "great points and growth points."

Begin with yourself: "Here's what I did well. I really worked on greeting you warmly when you walked in. And here's what I want to work on. I had a rough stretch and was glued to a screen more than I'd like."

Then you turn to your spouse, name the good things you noticed, and offer one growth point. Then they do the same. Ten, maybe fifteen minutes. And it changes everything downstream, because now there's a safe place on the calendar for the hard things. Your spouse isn't bracing for the shoe to drop, because he knows exactly when and how it comes.

Raising the idea can feel awkward, so you may consider sending a simple text: "What do you think about a ten-minute check-in each week about us? We each share something good, maybe one thing to work on. Say, Monday nights after dinner?"

If he writes back, "Uh-oh, what did I do wrong?" you answer, "Absolutely nothing. I just want us to keep growing, on both sides." And if he's still suspicious, blame me: "I read this article and the author suggested everyone try it for a month. Be my guinea pig."

Keep it light. In those first few weeks, you genuinely shouldn't have a loaded reason for wanting it.

Why does knowing the check-in is coming help so much? Because it makes bearing the discomfort of the current moment possible. When you're gritting your teeth through something small and you know Thursday night has a place for it, you can let it go now.

James Sexton, a premier divorce attorney in America, suggested this idea in his new book.

He said if you want to know how to fix a broken-down car, you don't go to a new car salesman, you go to a mechanic. Mechanics have seen every type of failure in every type of car. The new car salesman has only seen the shiny new car with zero problems.

So if you want to know how to fix a marriage, go to a divorce attorney. Anyone can lie to a therapist, they can lie to a doctor, but you don't lie to your lawyer. After working with individuals for decades, he learned what makes marriages succeed and what causes them to fail.

He claims it's disconnection.

You can blame it on intimacy, money, or kids, but at the core of it all is disconnection.

He believes if you sit for ten minutes a week and say, "What did I do this week that turned you on? What did I do this week that you appreciated? Can you tell me something I can improve upon?" and are willing to share and receive pointers from your spouse, you're golden.

Here are some quick tips to make sure the conversation is successful:

No criticism or contempt while they're talking (no "agh" or eye-rolling).

Focus on really listening to your partner's points. Make it more about what you can learn than what you plan to tell him or her.

And lastly, name the positive experience first before sharing what could be worked on. It frames the relationship in a positive way.

This ten-minute conversation, compounded over time, becomes the pathway to understanding your spouse and what they need and want from you. Slowly, you'll both feel heard, and positive changes can be made.

Ten minutes a week can turn your marriage into one that energizes you, excites you, and brings excellence into your relationship.

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The verse in this week’s Torah portion contains various aspects and has in- spired many interpretations. It speaks of establishing judicial systems throughout the Land of Israel. These judges must be knowledgeable of the Torah’s laws and living by them. A praiseworthy achievement at that time, it’s even more so in ours.

My aha moment related to another aspect of this verse, pertaining to personal and spiritual growth. We each possess “entry points” through which impressions of the world around us are received. Our eyes and ears take in continuous stimuli and information. Things enter and exit through the mouth. We can learn a lesson from airport security; we need to be proactive and aware of whatever might cause spiritual harm. While the TSA is concerned with threats of physical harm, we must also be vigilant regarding threats of spiritual harm. The Torah instructs us to always be on guard against negative influences and harmful influencers. This includes threats to our physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual well-being. But why? Because God created human beings with greater spiritual potential than other creations. Our Creator is aware of our vulnerabilities. God has given us personal filters through which we take in the world around us and express ideas out into the world. However, left unattended, there’s always potential harm that we may inflict upon ourselves and those around us.

Regardless of whether it’s intentional or not, the results can be the same. How many of us safeguard our computers from contracting a harmful virus, yet aren’t concerned about our own spiritual contamination? Just as we protect our valued technological devices, it’s essential to safeguard the very essence of our beings—the powerful, life-sustaining inner core: the soul. We’re charged to be the soul’s gatekeepers. What does this mean?

The first verse in Parashas Shoftim instructs us: “Judges and officers you should appoint for yourself in all of your gates.”

The term “gates” alludes to the gates of the body—the eyes, ears, nose, mouth, etc. This verse teaches us that a person should place “judges” and “police” over all his bodily gates to ensure that only positive and kosher influences enter his body.²⁴¹

These “gates” represent those bodily organs that form an inter- face between a person and his environment. “You should appoint judges…in your gates” means that the senses [one’s “gates”] should be controlled by judgment from the Godly soul.

Just as a city gate is used for entry and exit, likewise ideas and influences enter into people’s minds via the eyes, ears, and mouth.

Every country has police to patrol and protect its cities. Likewise, every person is like a small city unto him or herself. The Tanya refers to the body as a “small city.” Our thoughts, speech, and actions serve as outlets and means of expression for the soul. They are the soul’s “garments.” What we think about, where we place our focus in life, and what we derive pleasure from affect who we are and who we become. Directing one’s focus to spiritual matters refines the soul, allowing it to be aligned with the Divine.

The opposite is true with exposure to coarse, vulgar stimuli. In time, one’s perceptions become desensitized. The unwholesome no longer repels or disgusts us, and the holy no longer excites or inspires us.

Our consciousness of God’s Presence in our lives becomes gradually diminished. Allowing your eyes and ears exposure to that which diminishes and degrades you spiritually is self-sabotaging. Let’s increase our efforts to safeguard our most valuable, life-sustaining possession: the soul. Imagine what your soul may be trying to tell you. Perhaps this could be the message:

Hello [your name]. This is your soul. I’ve been trying to get in touch with you, but you haven’t responded to my messages. Yes, I realize how busy you are, so this won’t take long. But please shut off your phone, so it’s just you and me. Thanks.

Basically, you’re a good person. You haven’t murdered anyone or stolen anything. But is that enough of a reason to be proud of yourself? We aren’t living up to our potential to strive for and reach elevated spiritual heights. We’ve got what it takes to accomplish more. Let’s work together as a team. We must involve our eyes, ears, and mouth equally on this team initiative. Let’s communicate throughout the day to coordinate our group efforts. I’ll be sending you daily briefings, but you need to stay in touch with me as well.

By the way, it’s come to my attention that your mouth isn’t feeling valued. You’ve been using it to gossip about others. Don’t make excuses; just come clean and take responsibility.

Now you know why I’ve been trying to reach you. We both realize that you’re much better than this—aren’t you? Use your gift of speech positively. I’m simply asking you for better quality communication. You expect that from your smartphone, and I expect the same from you.

Once again, this is your soul calling you. Please get in touch with me.

Yes, we are provided daily messages and opportunities to align ourselves with God’s higher expectations. We make a choice every moment— to move closer toward or further away from becoming our best selves.

That airport experience was an eye-opener. It helped me appreciate the importance of checkpoints and the need to create my own gatekeepers. Now I’m trying to be mindful that my eyes, ears, and speech are the means through which my soul and I interact with the world. The more that I internalize this realization, the greater is my desire to be part of the team effort. So, I’ll strive to be more aware of what I allow to enter my inner world—my “small city.” And, because I value myself and others, I’ll be cognizant that what exits my mouth positively expresses who I am and strive to be, because…that is my “sole” purpose.

Making It Relevant

1. Keep in contact with your soul and make the effort to internalize its messages.
2. Listen attentively to words of Torah and wisdom, but close your ears to gossip and negative, harmful speech.
3. Use your sight to admire the beauty in the world and not to envy others’ possessions.
4. Train yourself to speak kind, encouraging, and constructive words.

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The Sages tell us that Rabbah, when testing Abaya, would purposely impart something incorrect or illogical to ensure he did not just accept what he taught him without first critically examining it. (Brachos, 33b)

If we do not think for ourselves, we will remain a passive blank slate conditioned by society, and our values and convictions will be a mere accident of birth. Using our mind to assess and think critically is an essential part of individuation. It is the engine that creates the true, unique self.

Rabbi Kalonymus Kalman Shapira, the Piaseczna Rebbe, who perished in the Holocaust, described it this way in his personal diary, To Heal the Soul: “There must be a person who can stand by himself, who can decide what he wants for himself. But if there is no such person, just a crowd, there can be no free choice or personal will. Because who will choose, if besides the herd there is no one there at all?

“Are you a person who can stand by himself, or are you just a member of the human species? Man cannot remain imprisoned by social rules, cultural customs, or accepted thought without the ability to see beyond them; he must have a mind of his own. Without this, not only is he not a Jew, he is not even a person.”

Yet this week’s Torah portion seems to contradict the value of being an independent thinker. The verse says, "According to the teaching that they will teach you and according to the judgment that they will say to you, shall you do; you shall not deviate from the word that they will tell you, right or left" (Devarim 17:11).

Rashi, citing Sifri, (17:24) explains, "Even if this judge tells you that right is left, and that left is right. How much more so, if he tells you that right is right, and left is left!" Chazal seem to be instructing us to ignore our own opinion and accept the viewpoint of the rav, even if it seems completely illogical. What happened to the importance of thinking independently?

To complicate matters, the Talmud (Horiyos 2b) discusses a case where an individual sage is expected to oppose what he considers a mistaken ruling of the Sanhedrin HaGadol (the Supreme Court) and stay resolute in his viewpoint. The case involves a piece of chelev, forbidden fat, that the Sanhedrin HaGadol mistakes for shuman, permissible fat. If a member of that very Sanhedrin eats the fat, knowing that his colleagues ruled incorrectly, he is obligated to bring a sacrifice for inadvertently transgressing by eating the non-kosher fat.

The question is, why is his action viewed as inadvertent, when he knew he was eating non-kosher fat?

The Talmud answers that it is because he erroneously thought that the obligation of “According to the teaching that they will teach you… shall you do" applies even in such a case. It does not. The individual sage who recognizes that the Sanhedrin HaGadol is making a mistake is required to stick to his guns and not follow their ruling.

This Talmud seems to be at odds with the statement of the Sages on our Torah portion concerning the obligation to obey our leaders even if they tell us “that right is left, and that left is right.” How do we reconcile these two sources?

Fact vs. Judgment

The resolution lies in the different nature of the rulings involved.

Our parashah is referring to decisions based on a judgment call or sevara. In cases that require logical deliberation and reasoning, we need to defer to our sages, who are far more educated in these matters and whose perspective and judgment are far more aligned with Torah than ours. This is hinted to by the fact that Chazal illustrate the need to accept their ruling with the example of calling your right hand your left hand and vice versa, because whether something is on the right or on the left is really a question of perspective.

In contrast, the Talmud’s case involving the kosher and non-kosher fat is a matter of determining objective fact. In such a situation, we can know the facts even though we are educated than our sages. Therefore, we are obligated to stick to what we know, even if it contradicts the opinion of our rabbi.¹

My rosh yeshiva in Yeshivas Chaim Berlin, Rav Yitzchak Hutner, was reluctant to answer a student’s question unless the student offered his own approach first. Rav Hutner was instilling a powerful lesson about the importance of developing intellectual independence. He trained his students to first put in the hard work to think through the issue and arrive at their own conclusions. Only then would he impart his precious words of Torah. I embraced this approach with my own students, as well.

You are responsible to have a dei’ah, an educated opinion, and you also need to have the humility to defer to those whose understanding is far greater than yours. However, subjugating your opinion does not mean you do not have a viewpoint. It means you are choosing to be subservient because you recognize that you are not an expert in this area and that your perspective is not nearly as pure and Torah-based as the nuanced opinion of a talmid chacham, a Torah scholar.

Striking this balance ensures that there is leadership, that there is proper deference for Torah scholars, and that each individual is encouraged to develop his independence and uniqueness.

1. Kesubos 57a, Rashi s.v. Ha ka mashma lan, where he explains that in disputes that involve reasoning we can apply the maxim, “These and those are the words of the living God,” meaning that both viewpoints express the truth even though they conflict, since different logical arguments may be appropriate at different times. But in matters of fact, in a dispute one side must be wrong. See also the Be’er Sheva on Horiyos 2b, who gives a similar answer.

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The Jewish month of Elul, which we begin this week, is a unique time of year for self-reflection and growth. Elul is the final month of the Jewish calendar, a period devoted to introspection before Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year. During this month, as we prepare for Rosh Hashanah, we examine our lives and set new goals for the coming year.

Here are four inspiring questions to ask yourself to help you jumpstart your growth.

1. What excuse have I repeated so often that I started believing it?

This is a question that Mel Robbins often asks people to help them differentiate between facts and stories. Most of us repeat certain stories or explanations for why we don't take action until we actually believe them. These excuses often begin as something real -- a constraint, a fear, or a setback -- but over time they become embedded in our identities.

Some common excuses you may be telling yourself: I'm not disciplined enough. I don't have enough time, money, or resources. I'm too old or too young. It's too late to change. I'll begin when life settles down. Other people have advantages I don't have.

Ask yourself whether your excuse is truly holding you back, or if it's just the story you've told yourself about why you can't move forward. Is the narrative you have about your life serving the person you're trying to become, or is it holding you back?

2. What is one area where I have settled for less than I am capable of?

Motivational speaker and author Tony Robbins suggests using this question to shift the focus from what you have achieved in the past to what you know you are capable of in the future. It isn't a question about ambition for its own sake, but about reflecting on where you've been quietly accepting a lesser version of your life.

Some follow-up questions to help you narrow in on where you might be settling instead of growing: Am I using my strongest gifts, or mostly what's most comfortable for me? Where in my life am I doing work that feels "good enough" instead of truly meaningful? Where have I stopped learning because feeling competent feels better than struggling as a beginner? If I met myself ten years from now, what would my future self wish I had begun today?

When you reflect on this question, you'll often realize that you settle for a smaller version of who you can be not because you lack the ability to do more, but because you've become comfortable with your current identity. To bridge the gap between the life you're living and the life you're capable of creating, you need to face the temporary discomfort of an unformed, future identity.

3. Am I treating my life as something to experience, or a problem to solve?

Bestselling author Oliver Burkeman poses this question in many of his writings as a way to discourage people from thinking of their lives as a puzzle to be solved. You may catch yourself thinking this way: that if you just found the right job, lost the weight, got organized... then you'd really start living. But life will always present another puzzle and challenge to be solved, and the sooner you start living your life instead of constantly preparing for it, the more you'll genuinely be able to experience the many blessings you already have today.

When you treat your life as a problem to be solved, your mind is always searching for the next thing that's wrong.

Some signs that you may be living this way: believing there's a "perfect" solution to something if you just work hard enough to find it, feeling guilty when you're resting, constantly trying to optimize every aspect of your life, feeling frustrated because life never feels complete.

Problems do need to be faced and solved, but life itself is not a problem that can ever be fixed. When you start treating life as an experience, you continue to work toward goals, but you don't postpone your life until you accomplish them.

4. Where am I called to serve rather than simply succeed?

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks encouraged people to keep asking themselves this question at different stages of life. This question asks you to change your focus from "What can I get?" to "What can I give?" It can help you reframe success not as an end in itself, but as a byproduct of living with purpose and meaning.

Ask yourself: where are my strengths, experiences, and values most needed?

Being of service doesn't have to mean starting a nonprofit or changing the world. Most days, figuring out where you're called to serve is far subtler and quieter than dramatic gestures: mentoring someone who needs confidence, being fully present with your partner after a long day, raising children with kindness and integrity, doing great work that truly improves other people's lives, listening to someone who feels alone, and showing concern when it would have been easier to remain indifferent.

Rabbi Sacks often taught that instead of asking "What do I want from life?" we should ask ourselves "What does life want from me?"

As Elul begins, you have a special opportunity to reflect deeply on these questions and discover what life is asking of you right now. This month is a chance to examine what you've done in the past year and set new goals for the year ahead. You don't have to map out the whole journey to begin -- you only need to take the first step.

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The morning after a tornado swept through my neighborhood in suburban Kansas, I stepped onto the patio and discovered a 60-foot tree lying at my feet. It was soon obvious that clearing the tree would be too much for a DIY project, so I hired a professional.

He showed up a few days later. Early forties, like me. Built solid from a career outdoors, American flag tattooed on his forearm—the kind of guy who shakes your hand and means it. Over the three days he worked in my yard, I learned that he volunteered at his church; that he had adopted his special-needs niece when his sister’s addiction left her unable to care for her; that he loved his work because it let him help people on the worst day of their week. By any honest measure, he was an all-American mensch.

By any honest measure, he was an all-American mensch.

It is very clear that mine is a Jewish home. I wear a kippah. I have always connected with wearing my kippah, no matter where I have been on my journey of religious observance. Israeli flags hang inside my home. Galgalatz plays on my smart speaker and there are mezzuzot on every door. My name, Yosef Silver, is obviously Jewish (to anyone not trying to slip an extra “u” between the “o” and “s”).

This guy was curious, and not at all shy. He asked about my life and community— coyly breaking the ice by inquiring about the “little hat” on my head, and whether all Jewish people wear them all the time. He asked about the stream of friends and kids and neighbors who kept nipping in and out of the house unannounced while he worked. He overheard phone calls about Shabbat potlucks and summer barbecues, and he asked about those too. I was happy to share.

He told me about how rich his life was, thanks to his church and his community, and how happy he was to see a sense of unity in a society where so many people don’t know their neighbors’ names. I told him about the “youth group for adults” I had founded to break down barriers for people who weren’t certain where they fit in and needed a new place for Jewish expression. He liked that; he said his church was trying to figure out the same thing.

For three days, we worked alongside each other, falling into an easy rhythm, schlepping branches and tree limbs from the backyard to his enormous woodchipper parked outside my home, and clearing felled trees not just from my yard, but from neighbors’ yards, too. I sipped cups of tea while he joked about the American revolution and drank his Big Gulp. My kids came out to watch as large branches were felled, and logs were chopped into firewood. And then, the work was done.

We stood by his truck. He shook my hand, said he’d come back anytime I needed. We said we should grab a beer. And then, with the same warmth he’d carried for three days, with the easy smile of a man who had decided he liked me, he said:

“I don’t know why guys don’t like you Jews. You look white, anyway.”

I didn’t say anything. I just stood there. While the impact of his comment washed over me, he got in his truck and drove away.

That was four years ago. Every time I tell this story, I feel like I did that very first time. That comment—intended as a kindness, intended as acceptance and welcome—unveiled something else. He had looked at me carefully, even gotten to know me, and decided that I was acceptable. That because I was white-passing, American-passing, normal-passing, I had been cleared. We never got that beer.

My house is still filled with the joy of friends dropping by, unannounced. On Fridays, I don’t even bother closing the front door. People come through the screen door and drop off a challah or pick up some hummus, share some cookies, or show up with flowers. Because that, too, is what being Jewish looks like today.

It doesn’t matter what you look like, Jewish or not. This Jewish home is open to you.

Friday nights filled with the sound of Shalom Aleichem, Shabbat tables squeezed to the max. Sukkot parties that look like a small city has descended on my home. Late-night seder tables and Hanukkah parties that go on into the night. A house filled with song and laughter. Havdalah on the patio, and firepits in the yard burning the wood from that fateful summer tornado—the tree that started all of this now keeping us warm.

It doesn’t matter what you look like, Jewish or not. This Jewish home is open to you. My kids are living lives that, less than a hundred years ago, others tried to stop.

Perhaps that is what the man with the chainsaw needs to see.

This article originally appeared on Zibby Owens' Substack On Being Jewish Now.

Featured image: by Greg Johnson on Unsplash

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Roasted Lemon Chicken

A zesty and golden-brown roasted chicken dish finished with a vibrant garlic-lemon sauce.

Prep Time 20 minutes minutes

Cook Time 35 minutes minutes

Servings 6

Calories 881kcal

Ingredients

• 2 chickens cut into 1/8’s
• 1/4 cup chopped Italian parsley

Lemon Sauce:

• 2 cups fresh lemon juice
• 1 cup olive oil
• 1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
• 1 1/2 teaspoons minced garlic
• 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
• Salt and pepper to taste

Instructions

• Preheat broiler for at least 15 minutes before using.
• Broil chicken pieces, turning once, for about 30 minutes or until skin is golden-brown and juices run clear when bird is pierced with a fork.
• Remove chicken from broiler, leaving broiler on.
• Make the sauce by whisking together juice, oil, vinegar, garlic, oregano, and salt and pepper. Pour Lemon Sauce over the chicken and toss to coat well. If necessary, divide sauce in half and do this in two batches.
• Return to broiler and broil for 3 minutes. Turn each piece and broil for an additional minute.
• Place chicken on serving platter. Pour sauce into a heavy saucepan. Stir in parsley and place over high heat for 1 minute. Pour an equal amount of sauce over each chicken and serve with lots of crusty bread to absorb the sauce.

Nutrition

Calories: 881kcal | Carbohydrates: 6g | Protein: 44g | Fat: 76g | Saturated Fat: 16g | Polyunsaturated Fat: 12g | Monounsaturated Fat: 43g | Cholesterol: 219mg | Sodium: 179mg | Potassium: 603mg | Fiber: 0.4g | Sugar: 2g | Vitamin A: 2364IU | Vitamin C: 41mg | Calcium: 38mg | Iron: 4mg

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The story of the Soviet Jewish refusenik movement is often told through the courageous men who challenged the Communist regime, taught Torah in secret, and fought for the right to leave for Israel. Less often told is the story of the Jewish women who bravely sustained their families and communities. Their resistance was often a private matter, but without them, the movement could never have survived.

Among those remarkable women was Ira Dashevsky. Born in Odessa in 1958 and raised near Moscow before moving to Moscow, Ira grew up in a society where Judaism was suppressed, religion was mocked, and antisemitism was part of everyday life. As a child, she watched peers ridicule Jews and destroy letters her parents had sent her at summer camp.

Yet rather than diminish her identity, those experiences strengthened her determination to understand what it truly meant to be Jewish.

One childhood memory stayed with Ira for the rest of her life. When she was ten years old, she was walking home from school with a classmate who suddenly asked, "Is it true that there is no God?"

As a baby with her grandfather

Ira answered simply, "I don't know." Looking back, she reflected, "It seemed like an insignificant conversation between two children. But at school we were taught that, of course, God did not exist. After all, Yuri Gagarin had flown into space and had not found Him." That simple exchange planted a question that no amount of Soviet propaganda could answer.

Her Jewish awakening came gradually. Her grandmother quietly preserved fragments of Jewish tradition, singing Hebrew songs she had learned as a child and standing for hours in the freezing cold each year to obtain matzah from Moscow's synagogue. Her father, astrophysicist professor Ze'ev Dashevsky, lost his scientific career after applying to emigrate to Israel. He was 13 years refusenik. Forced to work menial jobs, he secretly translated Jewish philosophical works, taught Judaism underground, and later in Israel became one of the founders and head of the Jewish educational center Machanaim.

Finding Her People

In seventh grade, Ira was accepted into Moscow's prestigious Mathematical School No. 2, and her family moved to the capital. Although she spent much of her youth there, she never felt she belonged. "I never considered Moscow my city. I always felt like an outsider."

Around that same time, she took another step in her search for her Jewish identity. "It was 1971 when I first walked into the synagogue on Arkhipov Street. I was not driven by religious motives, but by curiosity and a desire to find my own people. What I remember most was the smell of old books and the beautiful Jewish faces of the people gathered outside the synagogue."

That first visit gave her a sense that she belonged to a people with an enduring history and future.

As a teenager, Ira met Michael Kara-Ivanov, another young Jew searching for his roots. Together they immersed themselves in Jewish learning, studying with elderly Jews who had preserved Torah through decades of Soviet oppression. Their shared commitment would shape the rest of their lives.

Eight Years in Limbo

Ira met her husband Michael in ninth grade at a mathematics school. They studied in parallel classes and were part of a large, close-knit circle of friends, most of whom were Jewish. Pushing back against the surrounding falseness, they all searched intensely for truth and for themselves.

At their underground wedding

During their student years in 1978 they decided to marry. At age 20, an underground chuppah took place in their apartment. Together they studied Judaism and Hebrew, and took their first steps in observing the commandments. It was she who first led Michael toward the idea of connecting with the Jewish world, but he was the one who began observing first, and he soon had students who came to him on Saturdays to learn. And so, both separately and together, they moved toward a way of living as a family — toward deciding what values they wanted to raise their future children with.

As soon as they finished university, they applied to emigrate as a young couple without children. Instead of receiving permission, they became refuseniks. What they expected might be a brief delay turned into eight years of uncertainty.

Eight years later they arrived in Israel with four children.

Ira and Michael in Moscow, 1984

Those years transformed ordinary family life into an extraordinary act of faith.

While Michael taught Torah in secret, rescued forbidden Jewish books, and prepared himself for the possibility of imprisonment, Ira carried another mission that was equally vital. She created a Jewish home in a country determined to erase Jewish identity.

A Home Under Watch

Together they raised four young children while moving through 11 rented apartments. Some landlords forced them out after visits from the KGB. Others became frightened by accusations that the family was spreading Zionist propaganda. After one women's Torah class held in their apartment, KGB officers spent an hour trying to break down the door before questioning everyone inside. The next morning, the landlord demanded they leave within 24 hours.

Yet the Torah classes continued.

Ira refused to place her children in state kindergartens, unwilling to expose them to the relentless atheist and anti-Jewish propaganda she had experienced herself. Instead, she raised and educated her children at home while helping build an underground Jewish community alongside Michael.

Teaching an underground Torah class

Daily life required remarkable ingenuity and perseverance. Without a car, Ira bundled four young children into heavy winter coats, scarves, boots, and mittens before pulling the youngest on a sled through the snow in search of kosher food. If word spread that one store had received fish or canned vegetables, she hurried across Moscow before the shelves were emptied.

Preparing for Shabbat was a labor of love. Kosher meat was scarce and chickens were rarely available.

At the time, there was only one mikvah in all of Moscow, located inside the synagogue on Arkhipov Street. It was in poor condition and wasn’t opened every day. Women often had to make special arrangements just to have it opened. In 1979, only six women regularly immersed there, one of whom traveled by train from Ukraine. Despite the obstacles, these women remained steadfast in preserving Jewish family life, quietly passing on traditions that the Soviet regime had tried to erase.

With her daughter in Moscow in 1985

A Secret Network

Jewish emissaries from Israel, the United States, Canada, and Europe regularly arrived to Ira’s home, carrying Torah books, kosher food, medicines, and messages from the outside world. They often called unexpectedly from public telephones after arriving in Moscow. Within hours, Ira and other women organized meals, found places for them to teach and meet the refuseniks, arranged classes in different apartments, and quietly contacted participants without attracting the attention of the KGB.

Every detail required secrecy. Torah classes were never discussed over the telephone. Even conversations inside the Moscow subway were considered dangerous. Meetings were arranged only while walking outdoors. Jewish books were referred to by code names. They might say, "Bring the grandmother," code word to bring a volume of the Talmud.

A visiting emissary from the US and a family friend

Ira also became a teacher in an underground Jewish Sunday school. Children from across Moscow quietly gathered in constantly changing apartments where volunteer teachers introduced them to Judaism, Hebrew, Jewish history, music, and Jewish traditions.

Ira and Michael with their 8 children in Jerusalem

Ira looks back at those difficult years with remarkable humility. "At the time, it felt as though we were changing history. Looking back 40 years later, I realize we were simply entrusted with preserving one chapter of Jewish life so the next generation could carry it forward."

Free at Last

In 1987, after eight years of waiting, Ira and Michael finally received permission to leave the Soviet Union. They arrived in Israel with their four children, where four more children were later born. The Jewish home they fought so hard to preserve behind the Iron Curtain continued to flourish in freedom.

The family living in Israel today

Today, Ira and Michael are surrounded by their children and grandchildren in Israel, the homeland they dreamed of reaching for so many years. The Jewish identity they bravely nurtured under Soviet oppression has blossomed into a family deeply rooted in the Land of Israel, free to live as proud Jews.

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Healthy Apple Muffins

Wholesome and fluffy muffins packed with fresh apples, warm cinnamon, and a crunchy pecan topping.

Prep Time 15 minutes minutes

Cook Time 25 minutes minutes

Servings 12

Calories 225kcal

Ingredients

• 1/4 cup chopped pecans
• 3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons packed brown sugar
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1 cup all-purpose flour
• 1 cup whole wheat pastry flour You can use regular white flour here or I use WHITE whole wheat flour
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/2 teaspoon fine salt
• 1/4 cup canola oil
• 2 large eggs
• 1 cup natural applesauce
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 3/4 cup low fat buttermilk to make these pareve, substitute with 3/4 cup soymilk or non-dairy milk PLUS 1 ½ tablespoons white vinegar
• 1 Golden Delicious apple peeled, cored and cut into 1/4-inch pieces (or use any apples from a local apple picking outing)

Instructions

• Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Coat a 12-capacity standard muffin pan with cooking spray.
• In a small bowl, mix together the pecans, 2 tablespoons of the brown sugar and the cinnamon.
• In a medium bowl, whisk together the all-purpose and whole wheat flour, baking soda and salt.
• In a large bowl, whisk the remaining 3/4 cup sugar and the oil until combined. Add the eggs, one at a time, whisking well after each addition.
• Whisk in the applesauce and vanilla. Whisk in the flour mixture in two batches, alternating with the buttermilk. Whisk just until combined.
• Gently stir in the apple chunks.
• Pour the batter into the prepared muffin pan and sprinkle with the pecan mixture. Tap the pan on the counter a few times to remove any air bubbles.
• Bake until a wooden pick inserted in center of one of the muffins comes out clean, 20 to 25 minutes.
• Let cool on a wire rack for 15 minutes. Run a knife around the muffins to loosen them and unmold. Cool completely on the rack.

Nutrition

Calories: 225kcal | Carbohydrates: 36g | Protein: 4g | Fat: 8g | Saturated Fat: 1g | Polyunsaturated Fat: 2g | Monounsaturated Fat: 4g | Trans Fat: 0.02g | Cholesterol: 28mg | Sodium: 226mg | Potassium: 142mg | Fiber: 2g | Sugar: 20g | Vitamin A: 63IU | Vitamin C: 0.4mg | Calcium: 44mg | Iron: 1mg

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