tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-207881632012-02-16T02:29:38.015-05:00Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.comBlogger1481100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-56928637481268213492010-02-14T16:53:00.004-05:002010-02-14T16:59:15.100-05:00

Check out my new blog and project: LADYMAMA

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-72710851417626539382009-02-18T10:47:00.005-05:002009-02-18T10:57:47.732-05:00

I wanna write but I can't, so I'm hiding in the abstractTossing and turning, tryin' to get back on trackBig plans I have, but its all dying in my headLazy and uncaring, everything has turned to leadI know what is my toil, signs are everywhereBut when I approach, there arises this fearEventually, from the depths I know I must callFor a little help from the creator of it allI used to write, and

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-8124444068126620622008-09-21T02:28:00.002-04:002008-09-21T02:37:00.473-04:00

I am supposed to be sleepingBut I am awake talking to G-d1am and these words of returnHaven't been said in a yearFunny thingI haven't returned in a yearSlichos in a brick shulPacked with fashionable overtired girlsSmells like teen spiritI remember last yearMy first time, the pre-New Year customs in the HeightsSurroundings uninspiring, but a heart so alive it didn't need itA year later nowAnd

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-90490445312147001292008-08-08T14:33:00.004-04:002008-08-08T14:50:21.039-04:00

It is with my 145th Live From the Hilltop post that I present the excuse for my disappearance over the past month.Indeed, love has bitten.Most of you have already heard the grand news that, through Hashem's completely overwhelming abundance of marvelous and almost-unfathomable blessings, I am engaged to Moshe Hecht (from Queens).Our holy union will only result (and already has) in more

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-30004539218567409622008-07-15T17:45:00.002-04:002008-07-15T17:56:57.755-04:00

(Written June 14th, and debated whether to post...until just now)Roaming Carroll, President and UnionSearching for my mate, for some soul reunionFeeling idealistic, young and naiveYet to be burdened, still charged to believeSuddenly a wall, these stumbling blocksCrash from some words, these calls and these knocksYou tell me its not simple, and force me to defineWrap me up in plastic, no you can't

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-82850843491708310932008-06-20T16:09:00.006-04:002008-06-20T16:30:48.981-04:00

You were always so precise and direct. So focused.So crystal clear.You were present. So in the moment. So in the future.So crystal clear.You were a light. So positive, so bright.So crystal clear.You were action. So quick and on unafraid.So crystal clear.You were truth. So unrelenting and unbending.So crystal clear.You were alive. So energetic and passionate.So crystal clear.And today, we see a

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-50830600297012087412008-06-18T00:03:00.002-04:002008-06-18T00:11:52.955-04:00

We were talking about defining ourselves, about marriage, about finding that one person out there who could possible be for us.He sensed my questions, my desire to redefine."But, Mimi, you know who you are," he said. "There's no question."He encouraged me not to get sidetracked by other people imposing their definitions, or lack thereof."But I'm just not in the box, I can't take it," I complained

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-20488233840996281022008-06-15T04:04:00.002-04:002008-06-15T04:05:45.882-04:00

It's 4 am.I am up, but the silence is threatening my alert mind.Too much time to think. But never enough.Sometimes my thoughts have themes.The past few days (maybe weeks and months), it's been the same tune.And with these words, the song opens:Black and white are for pages that don't turn.That's right. Black and white is easy to read.But it lacks a story.

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-35493509939483001022008-06-13T15:07:00.006-04:002008-06-13T19:49:27.476-04:00

It was one of my greatest disappointments.Well, as far as cheesecakes go.My apartment was hosting a meal for the last day of Shavuos. I was thrilled. We sent the invitation out to about ten girls and everyone was signing up with something to bring. The list of salads, blintzes, quiches, fish and pasta grew daily.Whenever my apartment hosts meals, I never really get to make anything (except for

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-15521747745380553972008-06-12T19:21:00.002-04:002008-06-12T19:22:55.326-04:00

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-60778203627392259932008-06-06T11:24:00.005-04:002008-06-06T11:42:06.987-04:00

(See me?)To say that my soul was present at the giving of the Torah is a preposterous claim. It’s a really nice-sounding idea, certainly poetic.But let’s get real. Doesn’t it just sound like something said to soothe a nation that feels distant from the most pivotal and defining moment of our nation?It’s like saying, “Oh, don’t worry, you were there, too.”I guess I just don’t see the relevance.

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-49377650958463356522008-05-28T12:22:00.007-04:002008-06-06T11:42:18.998-04:00

Sharon Mill is a dark curly haired Jew who works in South Center Mall.Mushky Notik is a dark curly haired Jew who shops at South Center Mall.It is in the busied kiosk-laden, people packed center of this mall where they collided.He saw her from afar and made his ever so smooth approach."Yew hov natrally cerlee hair, yes?"He drew closer with speed, armed with a straightener and trained sales

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-24273598720859591742008-05-21T09:07:00.005-04:002008-05-21T09:15:29.536-04:00

(I found the speech after it was mentioned in the news, following the announcement of Ted Kennedy's brain tumor diagnosis. I keep on listening to it...figured "Why not?" post it...)"Some men see things as they are and say, 'Why?'I dream things that never were and say, 'Why not?'"(Edward Kennedy, quoting Robert Kennedy)

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-701981929906935252008-05-15T18:49:00.003-04:002008-05-15T19:00:57.036-04:00

I want to be with you. In your time of need, in your time of unrest. In no time at all.I miss your smell. Stone and sand and spices and a slight burning.I miss your sound. Engaging chatter and violins and a vibrant language.I miss your people. Sometimes divided but forever alive.I miss your style. Joyful and resolute and oh so honest.But most of all, I miss your friendship.I miss our

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-19886866382371164052008-05-07T11:28:00.004-04:002008-05-08T13:20:09.019-04:00

I had a skip in my step as I made my way into the Jewish Children’s Museum. After a beautiful walk and an inspiring class, today was going to be good. It was around 9 a.m. as I made my way towards the elevator in the Museum’s silent entrance hall. I pressed the up button and the elevator door flung open.I had one foot in the door way when I heard a sound and stopped.To my right, the video screen

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-26628923608010188252008-05-02T17:11:00.003-04:002008-05-05T17:43:26.345-04:00

Two days ago, on my birthday, I woke up at 5:45 to go walking down Eastern Parkway.After a nurturing Pesach, resolutions are aplenty and the strength is coming from above.This morning, after walking, I went to a shiur. That inspiration, too, came from above. And then, in that very class, the maamer we learned spoke about arousals pouring down from on high, and how the excitement doesn’t manifest

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-79362621402480520342008-04-18T01:03:00.002-04:002008-04-18T01:06:41.531-04:00

[Published here two years ago ]My right arm is officially a hundred times stronger than my left, still burning and smelling of bleach.The home where I am living and studying this year, Machon Alte, had a day of cleaning yesterday, in honor of the approaching holiday of Passover. Every student was given a job around the "campus."My job? To scrub. To scrub the floor. To scrub all thirty

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-63367098687237225952008-04-16T02:35:00.003-04:002008-04-16T02:55:15.420-04:00

Tonight, I went to a farbrengen. While it was in your honor, I didn't feel you there. The teacher spoke animatedly. He spoke about memories. He spoke about what you stand for.He spoke about your "soft but like a laser" eyes. He talked and talked and talked, but didn't say a lot.Every word sounded like a robotic heard-before line, much in need of some fresh heart and soul to flow beneath.I

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-46162976152585063952008-04-11T12:19:00.003-04:002008-04-11T14:36:26.564-04:00

My Miriam, my MiriamThis time, I write to youWhile I may use your handsThese words you know are trueIt took a while for you to find meYou counted to ten and didn't slowYou looked here and there, high and lowI watched you run, I watched you goYou looked in the trees, just ate the pearYou looked in the sky, just breathed the airYou looked in the dust, just played with the rocksYou searched the

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-30248593675697172952008-04-09T03:15:00.003-04:002008-04-09T03:26:00.081-04:00

Be a light, she says, and more than a lamp. Be flooding waters, and never just damp. Make a map of your heart, and draw it on their face. Race to the finish line, race at your pace. Lace all the colors in a sea of roaring waves. Run out of your caves, and run towards the sun. Run and run, for you'll never be done. Don't come undone. Stand tall. Taller than you are. Look far, raise the bar, but

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-78383194217914778412008-04-07T02:26:00.003-04:002008-04-07T02:40:26.480-04:00

At a Chuppah today, I learned about beauty.The wind was blowing, but the canopy representing their future home stood still. The Chosson stood swaying with his eyes scrunched, beside the woman he would soon call his wife.Chuppahs always makes me choke up. The niggun. The focus. The joy. The intensity. I closed my eyes to offer a personal prayer during the auspicious time that is every wedding

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-82654852932993009032008-04-02T13:52:00.002-04:002008-04-02T13:57:47.530-04:00

It's like everything has led up to this moment.All the questions. All the changing. All the sighing and wondering how its going to come together.All the distress in not living up to my potential.All the knowing that I am more.I come to work. Straight to the elevator.But he is on the video in the entrance lobby.I hear his voice. Addressing the world. Strong, clear and direct.He has been talking

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-20465502008808830522008-03-12T23:38:00.004-04:002008-03-13T00:36:54.316-04:00

If there’s one thing that Lubavitchers love highlighting, it’s our openness to Jews of all walks of life, Jews of every observance, style, color, political bend and affiliation.With pride, we will proclaim, “We love all kinds of Jews!”Oftentimes, this is how we win the hearts of the people who comprise our Chabad Houses. With our “Chabad is into all types of Jews!” proclamation, people feel they

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-68791978951684127212008-03-12T21:55:00.002-04:002008-03-12T22:18:09.781-04:00

Let's get to the bottom of this. I want G-d. Don't wanna just keep running and running and - what? Why you walking so slow? Want to go to Jerusalem, but they say my life here is a go. Where? I'm looking, but not finding. Love your fellow Jew, love your fellow Jew. Do this and don't do that. And you're not tall enough. Smack. Wake up - Israel is being divided. But, hey, sit pretty. Keep doing what

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-75787607551719481022008-01-29T23:47:00.000-05:002008-01-29T23:51:24.462-05:00

This past Thursday, as my non-Lubavitch doctor prepared the syringe he would soon stick into my toe, he asked me, "So what are you doing for Chof Beis Shvat?"Apparently, my plans were to be walking around in Crocs recovering from the surgery to remove an ingrown toenail.For Dr. Newmark, this would be the one time a year that he went to the Ohel.The Rebbetzin, he says, was like a mother to him.I

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-50422578449681575432008-01-29T23:09:00.001-05:002008-01-29T23:11:51.746-05:00

Our Rebbe lived an entirely public life completely extended outward.When he spoke, his voice trailed over miles, rode over oceans and resonated in the four corners of the world.His advice pours over pages and pages of printed works.His every move; watched, photographed, discussed.Our memories of the Rebbe are colorful, vivid, real.In contrast, there was our Rebbetzin.The Rebbetzin lived an

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-43477909911702867052008-01-29T17:54:00.000-05:002008-01-29T23:53:06.129-05:00

Our Transparent RebbetzinThe Rebbetzin and My father New post coming soon.

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-24824468740745058862008-01-16T22:13:00.000-05:002008-01-16T23:26:53.173-05:00

[The following is a back-and-forth that ensued following my "I'm talking to you, G-d" post, which was a reaction to the loss of a friend's parents. A reader forwarded her father's impressions, and I responded. ]Hey Mimi, How are you?I read your post on your blog, and I was strongly effected by it. The question of why do bad things happen to good people and bad all together has been something that

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-75701750636972591032008-01-02T21:48:00.000-05:002008-01-16T22:13:06.781-05:00

What does it mean to be tolerant?We have it all fumble-jumbled.Saying "it doesn't bother me" or "it doesn't affect me" is just indifference.Tolerance really means "I have strong feelings about something, and yet I can accept you."I accept that he lives in a way that I do not approve of.Tolerating those that you don't agree with - that's a talent.Indifference just means living in a closed world.

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-23321845019880265912008-01-01T23:58:00.000-05:002008-01-03T22:27:06.196-05:00

[Notes from Rabbi Friedman's Class: Night #1 at Bais Chana in Miami]Is it acceptable that Jews get together to talk about how unique we are?In fact, isn’t there something frightening about it?Doesn’t that lead to war and pogroms?You have to admit…We’re different and unique, and we’re frightened by the idea. Especially with the way the German’s use it. Right away we think, “Nazis.”On the other

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-44923596433073142562007-12-20T23:56:00.000-05:002007-12-24T11:07:23.818-05:00

Today, I felt like everyone was losing you.Yes, G-d, I’m talking to you.Everyone hates you today.Do you know that?We heard the tragic news and your name was on our lips.And we weren’t saying nice things.You see, we don’t exactly get you.But we’re not ignorant.We know it’s entirely your fault.That’s how much we believe in you.But we’re starting to expect less from you.How does that make you feel?

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-19406966674604921642007-12-11T16:04:00.000-05:002007-12-11T16:05:28.253-05:00

Matisyahu, the musical Maccabee"Growing Interest in BreslovRecent articles in the US Jewish press talk of Matisyahu distancing himself from Chabad-Lubavitch Hassidut. The artist doesn’t see it that way, but rather is thankful for everything he learned from the sect and is broadening his horizons to include other teachers and teachings within the Hassidic world. “Now I am interested a lot in Rebbe

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-53768260362134228892007-12-11T09:39:00.000-05:002007-12-11T09:58:40.937-05:00

All I needed to know I learned from Lubavitchers By Julia Duin, assistant national editor/religion, The Washington Times

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-11397246849106666222007-12-10T22:45:00.000-05:002007-12-10T22:55:50.676-05:00

In my dream I am returning to TzfasI am kneeling by my graveThe part of me that I miss is six feet belowAnd I am mourningIn my dream I am talking to G-dI am choking on my tearsG-d, how could I have knownI wasn't readyIn my dream I am walking the streetsThis is where I became myselfThis is where I lost myselfThe day I decided to leaveIn my dream I am tryingTo bring it all together againBut no

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-51680289069263248432007-12-10T21:15:00.000-05:002007-12-11T15:50:01.995-05:00

I search for youI run into the palaceAnd I look for youI search for you, search for youNight and day Lighting the Menorah

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-68141368865039361852007-12-06T17:09:00.000-05:002007-12-06T21:25:09.537-05:00

The first night of Chanukah, my roommates and I gathered enthusiastically in the doorway to light our Menorahs. Together, we sang the blessings out loud and lit our eight-winged lamps. Then, with great enthusiasm, we sang "HaNerios Hallulu" and danced.After our long and involved ceremony, Chanukah was here.Last night, night number two, I stood with my roommates as we, once again, sang the

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-50899902017536157522007-12-02T00:00:00.000-05:002007-12-03T14:55:28.919-05:00

On Thursday, the Jewish Week announced "Matisyahu's New Spiritual Groove," baring one of the first concrete interviews on the topic of Matisyahu’s affiliation with Chabad. The article makes the following clear: Matisyahu's continued exploration of Judaism has led him to connect with a sect of Breslav Chassidism, he isn't inspired by Chabad teachings like he once was, and his spiritual shift has

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-74107041294987680682007-11-29T03:49:00.000-05:002007-12-03T00:39:00.419-05:00

Some time ago, a girl named Basya commented on my blog, reacting to my notions about Chabad being “the truth.” Her questions inquired into my reasoning for promoting the Chabad way of life, and the learning of Chassidus. While I can only say I try to live a Chabad life, and I wish I learned more of the Chassidus I so passionately preach, Basya pointed out that I may have had some experiences

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-26509594997537669962007-11-15T22:13:00.000-05:002007-11-15T23:02:42.651-05:00

My Reflections on Lighting Shabbos CandlesThe Sun Sets and I Awake There is no other focus like the one I experience every seven days when lighting the candle that ushers in Shabbos. For me, it is both a moment of deep reflection of the past week, and sincere prayers for the one fast approaching. It is a thank-you note to G-d, and a supplication for a new era. It is the whole world wrapped in a

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-79354525627360088182007-11-12T01:22:00.000-05:002007-11-12T01:34:58.994-05:00

Rabbi Friedman reading Live From the Hilltop from my laptop(The following is based on a class given by Rabbi Manis Friedman)Society, with all its music and images, has persuaded us that love makes a happy marriage. Judaism says, “Yea, we know that. But there must be more to the picture.”Love is an expression of kindness.Sounds good, right?Yes, but not on its own.By nature, love is indiscriminate.

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-26932348726222457012007-10-31T18:30:00.001-04:002007-10-31T18:46:56.358-04:00

MovementI know I'm spiritually in tune when the small things matter.Correction:I know I am spiritually in tune when nothing is small at all.That was the theme that pulsated through every experience I had in Tzfas.For me, learning Chassidus was all about discovering the unity inherit in everything.Learning a Sicha, and experiencing how the Rebbe weaves through various levels of Torah and reveals

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-38559863563492791322007-10-29T00:28:00.000-04:002007-10-29T15:03:52.164-04:00

I have no excuses.And I don’t even know what I am doing back here.It’s really just like what Rabbi Friedman says about praying:“The most challenging thing about praying is to be honest. To let G-d see you as you are. To bare your soul. If you can do this once a day, you’re a very real person. Stop defending yourself. Stop protecting yourself. Just show up.”Just check in. Present yourself. With

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-63242690497857091992007-08-29T22:46:00.001-04:002007-11-15T22:30:18.253-05:00

Yesterday, the corner of Kingston and Eastern Parkway was the scene of a life’s tragic end. A young Jewish man’s sudden death was witnessed by bystanders, who came out of the subway station screaming. The police and ambulance were called and sirens flooded the streets. Shomrim arrived, with their faces white, and soon after, Hatzalah and Zaka, to collect the body for burial.Upstairs in my museum

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-72751197319553986502007-08-16T23:40:00.001-04:002007-08-16T23:54:50.709-04:00

In Likkutei Torah, the Alter Rebbe describes the tightening of the bond between G-d and the Jewish people in the month of Elul with the following parable: Before a king enters his city, its inhabitants go out to greet him and receive him in the field. At that time, anyone who so desires is granted permission [and can] approach him and greet him. He receives them all pleasantly and shows a smiling

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-33538970059034026812007-08-06T00:42:00.000-04:002007-08-06T00:56:09.828-04:00

All is blackExcept for the white girl on the trainA silent carPiercing with the stares of the manyThe white girl is mumblingNo, readingHebrew?Swaying a little bit?People are lookingWhy?She looks differentAnd shes moving her lipsAnother train mumblerExcept this time she is whiteAnd not drunkSuddenlyThe girl drops her little bookHer holy bookIt makes a smacking sound on the groundOpening the eyes

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-58225816557203986932007-07-27T01:28:00.000-04:002007-08-22T17:14:42.733-04:00

August 6th 2007(inrich.com/entertainment/living)Matisyahu, the Jewish rapper, often takes the stage in full Hasidic regalia. But yesterday, the man born Matthew Paul Miller opted for khakis, a powder-blue suit jacket and a fedora, soon removed to display a yarmulke underneath. The inclusion of a percussionist in his five-piece band elevates Matisyahu's reggae from the usual monotonous beats, and

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com33tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-26871668571648940872007-07-24T16:36:00.000-04:002007-07-24T16:45:19.875-04:00

Today is the saddest day on the Jewish calendar.There. Mimi the robot has repeated the designated Tisha B'Av slogan.This is all getting a little monotonous.Year after year.No eating. Sit on the floor. Do this. Don’t do that. Our Temple was destroyed.Yesterday, with the fast approaching, I was bothered that I left my Crocs at work. I got home, looked at my non-leather-shoe options, and let out a

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-42908472621003607472007-07-03T17:03:00.000-04:002007-07-03T17:52:59.979-04:00

[Today is the 17th of Tammuz, when we fast to mourn the breaching of Jerusalem's walls.]The Jew is caught in the delicate balance.To build.To break.To build the good.To break the bad.To build up, to create, to add.To break, to erase, to destroy.To teach, to inspire, to give, to smile.To prevent, to reproach, to shout, to regret.To move forward, and give strength to the light.To look backwards,

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-48591700865470736492007-06-28T17:51:00.001-04:002007-06-28T18:11:09.109-04:00

The wedding hallJumping, screaming, smiling, singing, dancing.The bride at the center, pulling people in.The music is throbbing with our hearts. This is everyone's happiness.The joy is unbridled, and we're all feeling light and limitless.The dancing is coming from another place.Suddenly, over yonder, the brides groom can be seen, bopping up and down.There he is. There he goes. There he is. There

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-39424859260599926662007-06-24T01:47:00.001-04:002007-06-25T11:25:27.103-04:00

A young child was looking for his father.It was years ago, during Shavuos, right outside 770.A humble corner on Eastern Parkway was packed with people, strollers, and running children. Shul was out, and everyone was waiting to watch the Rebbe leave.It was a hot day. Sweat trickled down the foreheads of eager onlookers.But, while everyone was looking for the Rebbe, one young child was lost in a

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-30504145276756782862007-06-19T02:16:00.001-04:002007-11-15T22:30:18.253-05:00

On the way.Niggunim are playing.The vintage tape is unclear, but the Rebbe's voice is strong. Relevant. Urgent.Out my window, the Jewish faces zoom by.We have begun the march.We're on our way.There's a lot of traffic for 10 pm."Are they going to the Ohel?""Don't think so. They're black.""Ya, you'd be surprised."The Rebbe was everyone's Rebbe.We are quite the flock.Parking.I'm trying to

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-34043402637479449322007-05-22T15:56:00.000-04:002007-06-07T12:09:08.213-04:00

Sometimes, G-d isn't so interesting.Especially when the New York Times Magazine, in all its colorful and glossy once-a-week appeal, is stark competition for a small blue Siddur filled with a foreign language meant to be directed Above.I was excited to have been able to snatch the magazine from a family friend. They had read it already, and happily gave it up.So it was, before going to bed the

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-63699950871790710832007-05-17T15:33:00.001-04:002007-05-17T16:22:20.251-04:00

[Loving Your Fellow Jew, discussed in the Tzemach Tzedek's Derech Mitzvosecha]Honey, it's time to let go of the bear.To love your fellow Jew.Easy, right?Sure, when the person is likable. With people who seem so perfect in our eyes - there's no challenge. They are, indeed, easy to love. Like a teddy bear.But, oftentimes, loving another Jew seems impossible.Why? Because we see their faults. And how

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-13090753341182158672007-04-30T18:23:00.001-04:002007-05-07T22:10:00.199-04:00

[Written Sunday April 29th aboard flight 30 ]Way too early this morning, my constant state of travel led me to yet another gate. The journey was a long one, laden with uninteresting airport artwork, tired faces, and the faint humming of smooth jazz. An all-nighter had me feeling sedated, and I couldn't wait to sit down. When I finally arrived at A14, I scoped out the crowded scene. As usual,

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-53433141755113484732007-04-26T20:10:00.003-04:002010-04-25T19:41:43.314-04:00

Seven years ago, a child named Mimi sat bored in class. Instead of pretending to pay attention, she decided to do something she felt was more productive.She took out a pen and paper and wrote at the top, "THESE ARE SOME OF MY FAVORITE THINGS."The year is now 2007, and Mimi has just rediscovered the list while cleaning her room.She paused, and was very touched by this young child's list. Her list.

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-56939089586387680922007-04-25T05:00:00.000-04:002007-04-25T05:33:19.955-04:00

Dedicated to tears and the preservation of insanityTragedy brings with it questions that are like wind on a stormy day.They are violent.In their ruthlessness, they demand an answer that would make sense of this all.But I don't want to live in a world that has answers to this, that has reasons.I know what I want.I know what I want.Meanwhile, answers just try to make this all okay.But it's not

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-44227612642024721942007-04-20T05:55:00.000-04:002007-04-20T06:38:55.285-04:00

[Written on a Hilltop, March 19th, 2006]It was a sunny but windy evening here in Tfas today - the "Spirit (ruach) City" was alive. Our balcony facing the mountains extended a strong invitation to host my Mincha prayers. Before beginning, I sat for a while with my Siddur on my lap. I closed my eyes and positioned my face so that it was directly in the wind's stampede.My pre-Mincha moment turned

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-4730077102523307102007-04-17T17:59:00.000-04:002007-04-23T21:23:37.841-04:00

[This is a video that features pictures, students speaking, and the Presidents words.]Yesterday's massacre at Virginia Tech was one of the deadliest school shootings in U.S. history.Thirty two people - students and professors - died at the hands of a raging young Asian student. The whole country is in a state of shock. The news reports and pictures are heart wrenching, the questions and

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-40245585129267798622007-04-16T04:55:00.000-04:002007-04-17T16:48:57.273-04:00

We were on the wrong train. Back from Rabbi Jacobson's Wednesday night class in the city, the late night subway changes had caught me and my brother off guard. We were on the number three train which usually stops at Kingston. But it was not stopping there tonight. We were told that the four was, so we knew we had to switch trains. So, fine. Simple. Train stops. We exit. We wait on

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-85493174110961856982007-04-13T04:55:00.000-04:002007-04-13T06:30:04.575-04:00

Spring - and blooming into 21A year ago tonight, I sat at a bonfire on a Tzfas hilltop surrounded by friends and celebrating my twentieth birthday. I was concluding my six month stay in Tzfas, an experience that was animated with truth and beauty that changed my eyes forever. I felt the whole world unraveling before me.That week, I wrote in a letter home:I felt like this was my first birthday

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-61383844402249847932007-04-12T04:22:00.000-04:002007-04-12T05:40:51.144-04:00

Marching down Kingston AveAbout a week and a half before Pesach, I was walking down Kingston Avenue when I saw the most dreadful sight.I mean, you don't always see girls this ugly.Her hair was frizzy and tied back in a messy bun. Hey eyes were crusty and lifeless. She had red cheeks, chapped lips, and a disgruntled look on her face to match her dull and almost limped walk.It's a wonder how a girl

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-58924233155688279672007-03-30T21:11:00.001-04:002007-04-06T06:19:34.539-04:00

He came representing Jews in the Far East.Or so he thought.After hours of waiting in line to meet the Rebbe face to face, he finally stood in front of the one and only person whose blessing he sought.After introducing himself, and announcing who he represented, the Rebbe smiled warmly and gently corrected him.There are no Jews in the East, maybe. But far? Never.The man felt humbled by the Rebbe's

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-23813412355369182532007-03-26T00:46:00.000-04:002007-11-15T22:30:18.254-05:00

Our Key Largo classroomA few months ago, a girl named Basya commented on my blog, reacting to my notions about Chabad being “the truth.” Her questions inquired into my reasoning for promoting the Chabad way of life, and the learning of Chassidus.While I can only say I try to live a Chabad life, and I wish I learned more of the Chassidus I so passionately preach, Basya pointed out that I may

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com34tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-83830957888057968102007-03-02T03:12:00.001-05:002007-03-06T15:32:58.568-05:00

The people are coming and going, filled with anxiety and anticipation.I am in a line of travelers - squeezed with a mass of people, waiting to move.I am about to pass into the next phase and approach to my gate.I hand the airport official my boarding pass and I.D.This is when it all happened, starting with her casual response."Thank you, Miriam."And there it was.My name.Her response was habit,

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-24742187138273013522007-02-28T03:47:00.000-05:002007-02-28T04:19:51.021-05:00

Walking through the streets of TzfasMy plane back to New York leaves in eight hours. After California and a quick visit home, it's back to Crown Heights, where a new apartment awaits me.So once again, here I am - collecting my belongings into boxes on wheels.I am scanning my room. The room in my home. My home on this hill. Thishill near this lake. This lake in Seattle.But this is no longer my

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-9004825880418218982007-02-21T05:22:00.001-05:002007-02-25T00:18:46.181-05:00

Valentines Day is in full swing at Van Nuys Public School in Northern Los Angeles.Two Mexican students are kissing by a car decked with flowers.Nearly every student is walking around with a heart balloon.The cement feels the slow pounding of my shoes as we make our way through classroom buildings, on route to the school’s small Jewish Club, which meets on Wednesdays at lunch time.I hear rap music

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-85226577872592080212007-02-09T03:06:00.001-05:002007-02-09T04:07:43.151-05:00

From about 1975 to 1980, my father was privledged to work in the Rebbe and Rebbetzin's home. What follows are a few of many stories from my father's narrative.I asked my father tonight what first comes to mind when remembering the Rebbetzin. Right away, he said it was how incredibly in tune and sensitive she was. The following stories capture a fragment of what my father means.Also, this post is

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-67727888433293392042007-02-08T13:20:00.001-05:002007-02-08T13:22:25.164-05:00

I remember, not long ago, I was leaving the Ohel - getting a ride back with a group of girls, only one of which I knew.One of the girls asked me my name.Upon my response, she said, "Yoooou're Mimi Notik?""Ah hah, that's me.""You're the one that wrote that thing...?""Yup, that was me.""Wow, you're so normal!"After her explanation, I understood that this Crown Heights girl was not accustomed to

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-36339365306247645822007-02-07T02:41:00.001-05:002007-02-07T12:49:05.490-05:00

I remember telling my non-Chabad friends of my upcoming plans to go on Shlichus.They were wide eyed as they listened to my descriptions of joining a Chabad house in a Jewish suburb, teaching Hebrew school, and doing everything in my might to assist in inspiring and guiding a growing Jewish community.My description was met by shock. Suddenly, I was a rarity in their eyes"Wow," was the collective

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-16030246258136736962007-02-01T01:03:00.001-05:002007-11-15T22:30:18.254-05:00

The question makes me feel awkward right away.I hear it.I pause.I smile uneasily.I stumble on my words.I basically look totally confused.My answer completely dodges the inquirer's real question.I always just end up saying, “Yea, I want to get married.”I just can’t give a yes to the dating inquiry.Listen.The last thing I want to do is date.Ever.----------When someone hears I’m 20, their response

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com34tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-64878790393773124792007-01-29T05:51:00.001-05:002007-11-15T22:30:18.254-05:00

I was visiting some friends from a non-Chabad seminary and found myself in a class on the subject of Jewish outreach. The teacher was dispensing a lot of struggling advice and inspiration on the topic. In all her explaining and descriptions, she aimed to encourage the young women in the class to be involved in outreach in some form.Then, she said something that I had hear many times before, but,

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com39tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-73601347653951326292007-01-18T23:56:00.000-05:002007-01-19T00:02:47.418-05:00

Neverending sunray on the water outside the Bais Chana classroomI’ve been back from my trip with Bais Chana in Key Largo for a few days now.Or, at least, I’m kind of back.I haven’t quite landed in Crown Heights yet.I’m hanging in pendulum, my feet almost touching the ground.I’m looking around, and can’t understand why everyone is rushing around and acting normally when I just went through

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-56245134974329402792007-01-02T15:01:00.000-05:002007-11-15T22:30:18.255-05:00

I, too, am a woman. Or so I thought. He’s just your average college dude.School team hat. Beaten jeans and sneakers. Blonde hair.He sits to my right.He is a boy.I am a girl.This girl and this boy are on flight 1016, both excited for their arrival in Miami.They are sitting way too close for comfort, and this trip’s battle over the armrest takes an easy loss on the side of the girl.We’re in the

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com60tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-18154114021374339282006-12-29T00:30:00.000-05:002007-05-07T22:12:49.810-04:00

No StoppingHere is a splash of my feelings written from thousands of feet in the air:I am weightless.The cabin pressure cannot leave its mark.Questions of my existence are flowing through the clouds as American Airlines flight 1016 makes its way to Miami.They have no idea the Rebbe is on the plane.----------Traveling for the Rebbe's mission is in a category of its own.Everything joins the mission

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-31700948701250673822006-12-28T01:32:00.000-05:002006-12-28T01:48:23.981-05:00

There's no place like home (Rabbi Friedman duringa recent question-and-answer session with teens).I leave to Florida tomorrow to prepare for the Bais Chana learning retreat for college students, women, and couples (3 sessions, Jan 1st-15th).There's nothing like livin' and learnin' (and divin') with other beautiful Jewish women from around the globe.Key Largo is famous for it's snorkeling and

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-66476299862093425242006-12-20T18:59:00.000-05:002007-11-15T22:30:18.255-05:00

http://www.aish.com/societyWork/salomonSays/Menorah-less_in_Seattle.aspSome Rabbis just seem bored. Like, scary bored.Follow the link above to watch a video of an Aish Rabbi in real confusion about the purpose of Chanukah.I had no idea that someone can make a case against public Menorah lightings, and try and show 9through Torah's lense!) that it's actually "counter intuitive to Chanukah itself."

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com83tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-64231219085310041222006-12-19T20:16:00.000-05:002006-12-21T19:02:29.715-05:00

So I was at Empire Grill yesterday.I have this strange order, where I basically get a baguette with a bunch of salad in it. It’s not on the actual menu, but they just charge me 5 bucks for it.I ordered and was ready to pay. I only had a few dollars on me, and asked if I could pay with my card.My arms holding my card went limp when the sweet woman who works there nodded a “no.”I only had three

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-17616299603227210592006-12-19T18:12:00.000-05:002006-12-19T20:16:35.966-05:00

At 04:21 - Matis slips in the tune to "Rebbe Shlita, Ein Kamocha BaOlam."Matis jumps into the Balcony, dances through the audience, riles up the crowd:

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-42615512899890275862006-12-17T19:09:00.000-05:002006-12-19T17:31:59.451-05:00

Matisyahu played a great show at Hammerstein Ballroom last night. Here's a brief outline and pictures, an attempt at capturing a little bit of what went on.Enjoy.-----8: 30 - Meeting up with the fam, waiting outside. Crowd is arriving.9:15 - We go in, find ourselves in the center, halfway between the front and the back. We're in a lively bunch. My brother starts singing "Oh Dreidel, Dreidel,

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-76129168706969323512006-12-15T15:25:00.000-05:002006-12-15T15:38:25.538-05:00

My hometown of Seattle.After the aiport rejecting Shliach's request to put up a Menorah, they're all sitting powerless.Really. A storm knocked all the power out.They're, literally, in the dark.Oh, Channukah.So much happening in the air.The Greeks attacked the soul of it all, waging war on spirituality.They didn't win, and they never will.While Seattle sits in the dark and lights their Menorahs,

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-4226264870077586132006-12-13T02:12:00.000-05:002006-12-13T02:34:55.318-05:00

Listen to Matis talk, get thrown off by questions, and sing.Matis talks about being Mathew Miller (yes, still), being Chassidic (or not), music, G-d, connecting, prayer, family, faith, his reggae tongue, and finding a minyan.Also, cool version of Jerusalem (with beatbox).Enjoy.

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-78943288500530258572006-12-10T03:01:00.000-05:002006-12-10T03:17:34.649-05:00

yud tes kislev running through my mindfor youfor mefor this familyfor Jewsfor the clean shavenfor the beardedfor the antifor the profor the knowingfor the notfor the yesfor the noand so lubavitchers everywherewill inspirewill blesswill drinkwill singand why?because the Alter Rebbethe protesterthe revolutionarythe mind and heart ofthe pastthe presentthe futureof youof meof us allreleased from

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-80681703183291094482006-12-05T18:40:00.000-05:002007-11-15T22:30:18.255-05:00

It's very exciting for me to be in New York, a place where having many nail salons lowers the price of a manicure to $6, half as much as it costs in Seattle.The nail salon on Kingston was quiet when I walked in with two friends the other day.The arduous mental task of picking a color was all that stood between me and my seat in front of a sweet, middle aged, non-English speaking Asian.I looked at

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-57820766577015003272006-12-03T00:42:00.000-05:002006-12-03T00:47:24.334-05:00

You're asking for more.What do you want?Myth # 7?A piece I was asked to write about being single?My battle over color at the nail salon?I'm taking requests, suggestions, questions.What interests you?What energizes you? - M from the Hilltop

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-89292616646363702042006-11-20T02:17:00.000-05:002006-11-20T02:41:34.601-05:00

How do you get so many Shluchim in one picture? It's only one Shliach! [Picture taken this morning]The world knows by now to expect from their Lubavitch friends to hear the impressive account of how many Shluchim there are worldwide.We speak about numbers a lot.“Shluchim all over the world!”It is a source of true pride.But, when you get down to it, come on…Let’s stop pretending.There really is

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-25161369768654781382006-11-15T18:35:00.000-05:002006-11-15T21:39:58.619-05:00

I've been ignoring you lately.You've been that disturbing phone call that I just don't want to answer.You need me, and I can't even look your way.I want so badly to talk to you, but our story is too painful to face.We used to be so close.And now, I feel listless at the mere mention of you name.All your newsflashes, e-mails and links swarm my screen and are left avoided, turned to spam.A part of

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-44140550067145063592006-11-09T23:20:00.000-05:002006-11-09T23:26:56.671-05:00

We’re walking down Kingston.We’re about to walk through a small crowd of young men.She says, “I don’t get how they all recognize each other, they all look the same.”I say, “No. You see, that’s the beauty of it. So many people can conform to such strict guidelines and do the same thing, and yet their real uniqueness is all the more apparent. The way they walk, the way they talk...”She interrupts

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-43189606337492069852006-11-01T16:20:00.001-05:002006-11-02T01:53:08.463-05:00

Comment on video here.

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-39747038314567704682006-10-30T12:03:00.001-05:002006-11-03T01:20:53.131-05:00

Speeding forth, glancing back - a picture I took two months ago.[Wednesday, November 1st - Yud Cheshvan]So I am leaving Philadelphia.My roommate got engaged and a spiral of emotions and events have led to my decision to leave Philadelphia and journey forth.Over the past two months, behind the scenes of this blog, much has been going on.A lot has changed within, in terms of knowing my

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-1550717279799915492006-10-28T22:02:00.000-04:002006-10-29T01:54:56.262-04:00

In front of thousands - before one G-d.The following clip makes me, ahhh, happy. Just happy.

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-49123431135848278752006-10-24T23:51:00.000-04:002006-10-25T13:01:40.814-04:00

We’re somewhere in Crown Heights, just talking.My friend is experiencing some qualms about her living situation.She says: I need to be around people who are on the same derech (path) as me. Her wording caught me offgaurd and I say: Same derech? All Jews are on the same derech.She thinks I'm just being poetic and replied: Eh…not really.For me, this is an essential and practical thing.I say: Yea,

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-29229736363802114562006-10-18T22:58:00.000-04:002006-10-18T23:06:09.165-04:00

Whaddup, yo?Eric Cosby is a 6"4, humorous African American with dreadlocks andvery smooth skills in the sales department.A transaction the other day led to our meeting.He reached out to shake my hand, and I gently refused and told him,"I'm Jewish, and very careful with touch."Eric was like, "yo, that's cool, that's cool."I jokingly responded, "I know, isn't it? You should try it."He laughed and

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-1160543546506755362006-10-11T00:20:00.000-04:002006-10-12T20:38:26.873-04:00

Crown heights gets you high passing by here’s how it goes a shriek because I haven’t seen you in forever and wow isn’t it cool to see you so out of context I am just coming from nosh world and I knoooow I would also think it would be bigger since it’s called a world but I guess some really small things really are a whole world like eastern parkway here’s the way show me how do we walk through the

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-1160019061712788082006-10-04T22:56:00.000-04:002007-11-15T22:30:18.256-05:00

A bachur steps out in New YorkI have yet to hear the details.I was Gmail chatting with my brother online today when he had to interrupt to go do something."Stepping out..." he said.I asked, "“to where?"” but he was already gone. I resumed my work at the desk, typing up flyers, calling people...My brother returned a half hour later to answer me."Well, turns out...I was stepping out...to make a Bar

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-1159840457944028342006-10-02T21:54:00.000-04:002006-10-12T20:38:26.526-04:00

(Due to many inquiries, and some good inspiration, I'm back to blogland)This is not how it was supposed to be, the girl told herself.The images, energy...it all led up to...to this?Her idealistic self came crashing against her realityAnd for a while, she couldn't find herselfHer drive to be on fire set off alarmsWhy can't I love everything I'm doing?Why am I looking for more?Was I real about

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-1157606739329242312006-09-07T00:49:00.000-04:002006-10-12T20:38:26.253-04:00

Yochanan is a man who takes a rolley suitcase of books to learn from everywhere he travels.After the class tonight, we both find ourselves in conversation by the refreshments table.He overheard me mentioning to someone else something about learning in a non-Chabad school.Turns out, he has a story that makes him intrigued in my experience.So, after he asks, I share it with him.And he shares his

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-1157517335338160322006-09-05T23:37:00.000-04:002006-10-12T20:38:26.189-04:00

[The big picture is when every detail IS the big picture]The right wood for the art project: $12.00Short but strong nails: $5.00Hinges for the a-frame: $6.504 huge posts for the pre-school playground: $60.00Driving everyone at Home Depot crazy: PricelessThere are some things money can't buy.For everything else, there's a blank check from the Rabbi.----------What happens when an inspired and

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-1157092764277047012006-09-01T02:21:00.000-04:002006-10-12T20:38:26.124-04:00

The crickets outside are alive, screaming - bubbling with excitement.It's as if they know how I feel.My brothers words ring in my ears.My plane was about to take off from Seattle.He said, "It all starts now Mim. Every step you take, every breathe...It's all part of your Shlichus."When my plane landed, all I could do was smile.My touchdown was really a takeoff.And I just had to smile at that.This

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-1156400160573198642006-08-24T02:15:00.000-04:002006-10-12T20:38:26.058-04:00

In just four days, I'm on my way to start my official Shlichus journey in Philadelphia.So I've been cleaning the room. Like, reeeeeeaaally cleaning.I attached the book shelf first, then the desk, the drawers, the closet...Every area in my room opens another door to the past. Old poetry, pictures, school assignments, CDs, letters, scrapbooks...The list goes on of things I have to make the daunting

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-1155894515333487692006-08-18T05:45:00.000-04:002007-11-15T22:30:18.256-05:00

People love asking the question. It's as if Chabad is perfect, but they have the pin, the fine point that's going to pop every Lubavitcher into smithereens. There's always a chin-up ego type of stance in the person asking the question. They're thinking, "yea, how's he gonna answer THIS one?"Why didn't the Rebbe ever go to Israel? Behind the question is a deeply rooted missionary mindset. It’s a

Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com28