healing

Healing from trauma of Oct. 7

Healing Space has treated more than 20,000 people since it began in response to the trauma caused by the Oct. 7 terror attacks and the ensuing war. (photo from Healing Space)

“It’s important to talk about it because there are still hostages who have been living Oct. 7 every day for over a year-and-a-half. It’s important to talk about it because antisemitism around the world is growing stronger, and there are people who deny or justify the horrors we went through that day. This is not a political matter – it’s a matter of humanity. It’s about human lives,” Raz Shifer, a survivor of Hamas’s horrific terror attack on the Nova music festival, told the Independent.

Shifer, who lives in Giv’atayim, Israel, will be joining Vancouver’s community Yom Hazikaron ceremony on April 29 and Yom Ha’atzmaut celebration on April 30. Another Nova survivor, Inbal Binder, from Petah Tikva, will be coming here as well, and she and Shifer will, among other activities, participate in the events, visit several local Jewish schools and address Federation’s Regional Communities Conference.

Also coming to Vancouver is Dr. Ilana Kwartin, chief executive officer of Healing Space Rishpon, where both Shifer and Binder have participated in workshops and treatments. She has some meetings lined up, but the Israel-related events are the main purpose of the visit.

“In addition, I’m happy to meet people one-on-one or book speaking engagements for groups, communities and teams, where we can share the story of our work and, through that, the story of Israel at this time,” she said.

Healing Space Rishpon was created by Dr. Lia Naor in response to the trauma caused by the Oct. 7 attacks and the ensuing war. With Ra’anan Shaked, therapists and volunteers, Naor set up a centre at Ronit Farm in Sharon that operated for just over a month. With Patrizio Paoletti and Rani Oren, a permanent base was then established in Rishpon. Since Healing Space began, more than 140 therapists have given almost 60,000 hours to treating more than 20,000 people in 16 trauma-healing modalities.

Kwartin became CEO right after Oct. 7. She and her family live in Eliav, a yishuv she helped found, which is in the northern Negev, abutting the separation barrier.

“The Black Shabbat of Oct. 7 upended my life, like it did for so many others, and as we – individuals, families, communities and a nation – mourn, work to pick up the pieces, mend what can be repaired and rebuild where it cannot, I put my personal and professional background to use as the CEO of this one-of-a-kind haven,” she told the Independent.

photo - Dr. Ilana Kwartin, chief executive officer of Healing Space Rishpon, is coming to Vancouver with Nova music festival survivors Raz Shifer and Inbal Binder for Yom Hazikaron and Yom Ha’atzmaut — Dr. Ilana Kwartin, chief executive officer of Healing Space Rishpon, is coming to Vancouver with Nova music festival survivors Raz Shifer and Inbal Binder for Yom Hazikaron and Yom Ha’atzmaut. *(photo from Healing Space Rishpon)*

Kwartin was born in the former Soviet Union and made aliyah in 1987, growing up in Jerusalem. “As an officer in the IDF, I served as a tatzpitanit [spotter] in Nachal Oz and later as a founding commander of the Netzarim observation post, and the tragedy of the tatzpitaniyot struck me deeply,” she said, referring to the female military unit that warned of a potential terrorist attack and whose soldiers were among the first killed and kidnapped on Oct. 7.

With BAs in law and psychology from Hebrew University of Jerusalem, Kwartin earned an MA in conflict resolution from Ben-Gurion University of the Negev. Her book, Imprisoned, came from her PhD dissertation on honour-based confinement, which she did at Bar-Ilan University. The stories have inspired activist initiatives across Israel and informed legislation, she said.

Kwartin lectured in law at Sapir College, where she built their legal internship placement program and founded a centre of legal activism, A House of their Own. “More recently,” she said, “I spent three years on shlichut in Los Angeles as the director of Jewish Agency operations on the West Coast. With the outbreak of war in Ukraine, I traveled to the Ukrainian border to help rescue Jewish refugees and bring them to Israel.”

Kwartin’s work at Healing Space Rishpon changes every day. “The programs are so varied and cover many groups of the Israeli population,” she said. “But the most meaningful part is the people who work here – very similar to me, they left everything they were doing and started working at Healing Space to repair the emotional damage we all see around us. They work tirelessly, in uncertain conditions, long hours, doing the hardest work imaginable. It is thanks to the team that Healing Space makes such a big difference in people’s lives.”

Binder found out about Healing Space inadvertently.

“I had heard there was a treatment centre you could go to, but I wasn’t in a mental state that allowed me to reach out for it,” she explained.

“Later on, I was looking for something that could get me out of the house in the mornings and help create a daily routine. By chance, I came across an ad for a new rehabilitative employment program at Healing Space and it sounded amazing – working with my hands, being in a warm and supportive environment, where I could focus on myself and begin a new movement in my life.”

Binder worked as a beautician before Oct. 7 and, while not currently working, she is taking courses, most recently completing one in conscious psychotherapy. She started going to Healing Space early in the war. It “was the first time I realized that another way was possible – that someone was truly listening to me,” she said.

“More than that, I got to experience treatments I never imagined I’d try, like sound healing and yoga therapy. These are treatments I still do to this day, to help maintain my emotional balance and regulate my body.”

At Healing Space, she added, “Even my mom, who was never really drawn to holistic healing, found a deep connection with one of the therapists and opened her heart to her – that really moved me.”

photo - Group gathered outside at Healing Space Rishpon — A group gathered outside at Healing Space Rishpon. *(photo from Healing Space)*

From a place of not wanting to do anything or face anything, Binder said, “I now want to grow. I want to move forward and live a good life. And none of this would have happened without the process I went through over the past six months.”

Binder’s Vancouver visit will be the first time she is telling her story publicly.

“Honestly,” she said, “it’s a little overwhelming to come and talk about my healing journey. It also means recognizing my story – and that alone is a challenge for me. I feel both excited and nervous – telling my story for the first time and receiving acknowledgment for it.

“It’s important for people to hear about the massacre because it was a Holocaust repeating itself,” she said. “The Jewish people are once again in danger, and it’s crucial to echo these stories, to make sure people know and remember.

“Beyond that, the connection between Jews in Vancouver and Jews in Israel – to build strong, deep connections across Jewish communities around the world – that connection is what has always kept us strong as a people.”

Binder attended the Nova festival with her sisters.

“It was actually the first evening that my sister’s boyfriend was introduced to our parents,” she said. “From there, the four of us drove to the party in the south.

“In the morning, when the rockets started, I called my mom to let her know and said we were heading home. We got delayed near the party because one of our friends had a panic attack, and we waited with her.

“We made it to the car, but it took time to decide what to do. At 8:30 a.m., the boyfriend took the lead, called his father, picked us up in the car, and we escaped through the fields. His father navigated him over the phone throughout the whole drive, and that’s how we managed to get out safely. Which is crazy in itself – the reality was so different for so many others. It felt like we were in a divine bubble that protected us.”

“It was the scariest day of my life,” said Shifer of Oct. 7. “I didn’t know if I would make it back home or not, and I didn’t know which of my friends would survive. It was a feeling of helplessness, complete loss of control and sheer terror.”

Unlike Binder, who is only now beginning to share her story, Shifer – who is an actor, singer and artist – has been interviewed by media around the world and has spoken at schools, universities and synagogues.

“I also found myself advocating and telling our story through music during performances,” she said. “In addition, I led tours for people who came to the Nova site and shared my personal story with them.”

Initially, Shifer refused to leave her house after Oct. 7.

“Friends told me there was a place where survivors go to heal, but I was too afraid to go outside and couldn’t bring myself to get there,” she said. “Then, one day, a volunteer came to my home and helped me take that first step – to leave the house and arrive at Healing Space. From that day on, something opened up in me, and I began coming every week.”

Healing Space has helped Shifer cope with her trauma in many ways.

“First of all, the location,” she said. “You arrive at a place full of trees and greenery – everything is peaceful and calming.

“There’s something comforting about sitting among people who have been through something similar to me,” she continued. “The therapists at the centre are kind and embracing. The shared music circles helped me find my way back to music. But, more than anything, it’s the feeling that I’m not alone. That I am seen. That there’s a place that can hold me.”

photo - People at Healing Space Rishpon have had similar experiences — People at Healing Space Rishpon have had similar experiences. *(photo from Healing Space)*

The body treatments have allowed Shifer to release some stress and start letting down her defences.

“The long-term project I joined under Healing Space gave me the tools to return to a routine and become an active human being again,” she said. “Healing Space is a deeply meaningful part of my recovery process – and I honestly don’t know what I would have done without them.”

To register to attend Yom Hazikaron or buy tickets ($18) for Yom Ha’atzmaut, visit jewishvancouver.com.

Coffee and sympathy

In Startup Nation, Dan Senor and Saul Singer’s 2009 book about Israel’s successes in innovation and entrepreneurship, the authors credit the hothouse environment created by the country’s many challenges not as a barrier but as a catapult to its accomplishments.

For example, mandatory military service, made necessary by Israel’s tough neighbourhood, has helped cultivate leadership, teamwork, technical skills and adaptability under pressure. Put simply, young people who have made life-and-death decisions for themselves and their unit while still in their teens may be less daunted than other people when confronted with the risks required to succeed in business or other life challenges.

In what may be an unanticipated twist on this resilience and adaptability, a chain of cafés has emerged in Israel with a very specific clientele. Restaurateur Tamir Barelko launched Café Otef, a chain with two outlets and plans for more. Otef refers to the Gaza “envelope” area where the Oct. 7 invasion took place.

A Jewish Telegraphic Agency article last week on the coffee shops tells the story of Israelis’ sometimes unconventional approaches to resilience and recovery.

The cafés, staffed entirely by survivors of the Oct. 7, 2023, attacks on southern kibbutzim, feature products from affected communities: cheeses from Kibbutz Be’eri, honey from Kibbutz Erez and other foods and products, like T-shirts, aprons and water bottles, sourced from entrepreneurs affected by the tragedy.

The first such storefront, Café Otef-Re’im, named after the kibbutz adjacent to the Nova festival site and where seven residents were murdered and four taken hostage, is owned and run by Reut Karp. Her former husband, Dvir Karp, was murdered in front of their three children. Dvir was a chocolatier and his recipes are enjoyed by café customers.

Karp and other staff credit the cafés with getting them out of bed in the mornings. One displaced kibbutznik who experienced culture shock in Tel Aviv finds the clientele can appreciate his dark humour in ways locals cannot.

Karp emphasizes that the café’s association with the tragedy is not a “gimmick.” While Tel Aviv is sometimes derided as a “bubble” removed from the realities faced by Israelis in other parts of the country, the central location, she explains, is a benefit that allows displaced residents from the country’s north and south to meet and share experiences.

Comfortable Canadians can hardly imagine either the inescapable grief of Israelis directly affected by Oct. 7 or the daily challenges of living with the memories. Enjoying coffee and chocolate in an environment explicitly created for working through the pain of that day and its aftermath might seem counterintuitive to those who have never experienced anything remotely similar. It may be a distinctly Israeli response to face the realities head-on.

At the same time, Karp acknowledges that her café does not push the tragedy in customers’ faces. One could drop in, stay awhile and leave without ever knowing the motive behind the place. One unavoidable sign, however, is a work of art made up of text messages sent on the tragic day.

Two new cafés are planned for the near future, including Café Otef-Sderot, named for the southern town that has always been on the frontline of Gaza rockets, and Café Otef-Kiryat Shmona, honouring evacuees from the northern town, which is in the Vancouver Jewish community’s partnership region. Barelko, the café’s founder, aims to recruit wounded soldiers from the ongoing war as the chain expands.

Canadian Jews, like Jews worldwide, are confronting a changed environment. Having the good fortune of comparative comfort for generations, we have not had to develop the mechanisms for coping with disasters like our Israeli cousins have been forced to cultivate. Of course, history has always presented Jews with challenges and Israelis, we might say, are a concentrated embodiment of Jewish resilience and constructive response to challenges. Café Otef is one small example of that response and an example for others facing challenges. As we conclude 2024, a year of continuing tests for our people, we should take a moment of reflection and pride in how we have adapted and responded since Oct. 7, 2023.

Many Canadian Jews feel overwhelmed and struggle to find positivity in the current moment. This is completely understandable. Nevertheless, our community has responded to changed circumstances with determination and toughness. This should be a source of immense pride. We should also focus on the extraordinary strength of Israelis as a model for facing our own difficult moments. The potent unity of Jews worldwide in the past year is a testament to kol Yisrael arevim zeh bazeh, all Jews are responsible for one another. The solidarity showed by diaspora communities has inspired and strengthened Israelis. We should not miss the opportunity to be inspired by their resolve as we confront on own very different but related troubles.

Past trauma can help us

Rabbi Dr. Tirzah Firestone spoke in a Zoom webinar hosted by Victoria’s Kolot Mayim Reform Temple on Jan. 14. (PR photo)

Rabbi Dr. Tirzah Firestone unraveled intergenerational trauma, and offered solutions to help remedy it, in a Zoom webinar hosted by Victoria’s Kolot Mayim Reform Temple on Jan. 14. Firestone, the author of the award-winning 2019 book Wounds into Wisdom: Healing Intergenerational Jewish Trauma, is a Jungian psychotherapist and a leader in the Jewish Renewal movement.

“When I was first approached by Kolot Mayim last year to present this talk, nobody had any idea of the life-changing events that we would be experiencing,” Firestone began, acknowledging the geopolitical developments on and after Oct. 7. “Nor did I ever fathom when I wrote Wounds into Wisdom that it would be so very painfully relevant today in the midst of historical traumas in the making.”

An objective of the January talk was to address traumas experienced by one’s ancestors that get transmitted onto future generations in the form of fears, anxieties and hopelessness. Firestone’s goal is to help current generations “metabolize life better” so that the damaging psychological effects of trauma are not extended to future generations. In other words, those who come after should experience life from a position of resilience and hopefulness.

Firestone, who currently lives in Boulder, Colo., spoke about her own parents, who were deeply impacted by the Shoah – her mother as a German survivor and her father as an American soldier stationed in Germany.

“The past does not disappear. The painful histories our ancestors endured, along with their warmth, resilience and all their good resources, are intertwined within us, both psycho-spiritually as well as physically and physiologically,” said Firestone. “And they create the patterns of who we are and who we are becoming.”

Along these lines, the pain from trauma can be unspoken over the course of generations, yet becomes part of the individual nonetheless. Or, as in a quote from Israeli psychologist Dan Bar-On, cited by Firestone: “Untold stories often pass on more powerfully from generation to generation than stories that can be recounted.”

Ongoing patterns, whether ones of heroism and activism or depression and anxiety, are transmitted across generations. A young woman Firestone worked with, for example, became an activist, not knowing it ran in the family – her grandmother and great-aunt, neither of whom she had ever met, were rebels in their shtetl decades earlier.

Another example involved a woman whose very first memories as a young child were nightmares. One night, she explained to her concerned mother why she would wake up crying so often. The image in the young child’s mind was of an old wooden town where a man at the train station would jump from the platform to the train tracks. The man would run along the tracks yelling, “Stop! Stop!” The train would go on with the young man unable to catch it.

When the mother heard her child’s story, she cried and asked in disbelief, “How could you possibly have known this?” It was the story of the child’s grandfather who, in the Second World War, found out belatedly that Jews in his town, including his young family, had been rounded up and deported by train. He ran after the train, but never caught up and never saw his family again. The man survived the Holocaust and started a new life and family in the United States.

Traumas can happen collectively. Firestone noted that Israeli journalist Chemi Shalev wrote, “I am a Jew, and there are scenes of the Holocaust that are indelibly etched in my mind, even though I was not alive at the time.”

Firestone also outlined research conducted by Rachel Yehuda of New York’s Mount Sinai Hospital, which showed that the children of Holocaust survivors were three times more likely to develop post-traumatic stress disorder symptoms when exposed to traumatic events than the children of other Jews.

In the latter part of her talk, Firestone focused on what can be done towards healing trauma. Every family has its own ruptures and resources, no matter who or where it is, she said. Whether through intelligence, resilience or good fortune, every family today is a survivor. Thus, she asked, “What family resources can you tap to assist you in this current moment in history?”

Among some of the keys she highlighted for healing trauma, and which are discussed in greater depth in her book, is being aware of family legacies. This awareness, she asserts, will hinder the transmission of trauma to succeeding generations.

Another is to face one’s losses. “When we face our grief, we can start to feel our grief. When we don’t feel our grief, it becomes pathogenic. It makes disease on the inside of us,” she said.

A third technique for healing, according to Firestone, is “to harness the power of one’s pain.” That is, one can use the tremendous power contained in pain to bring on more destruction and further pain or to bring light, warmth and hope.

Firestone advised taking action. Here she employed a saying from Midrash: “Had I not fallen, I would not have arisen. Had I not been subject to darkness, I would not have seen the light.”

In concluding her remarks, Firestone said, “We have a mandate to draw on our ancestors’ greatest traits – their survival skills, their courage, their ingenuity – to apply to circumstances now. There are so many people who are suffering. What can we do from our own pain by harnessing its power and going places that we could not have gone before we endured [it]?”

For more on Firestone and her writings and ideas, visit tirzahfirestone.com.

To register for future Kolot Mayim speaker series Zooms, the next of which takes place Feb. 4, click here.

Sam Margolis has written for the Globe and Mail, the National Post, UPI and MSNBC.

Opportunity for healing

This article was originally presented as a d’var Torah called “Healing our relationship, as Jewish Canadians, with Ukraine and Ukrainians.” It was delivered at Or Shalom Synagogue on Shabbat, 14th of Tevet, 5783; Jan. 7, 2023. It is intended as a beginning of a conversation about how we, as Canadian Jews, can heal our relationship with Ukrainians and Ukraine.

When many of us Canadian Jews think about Jewish experience on Ukrainian territory, we think of antisemitic violence. We think of pogroms, of rape, of plunder. And, ultimately, of either escape or death. For those of us with personal ancestral history in the territory of Ukraine, this pairing of the land with violence is particularly acute. One Or Shalom member told me, with raw emotion, about his father’s experiences at the hands of brutal Ukrainian guards in various Nazi concentration camps. My Uncle Leo referred to Easter as pogrom season in the town of Yavorov, the town presently in western Ukraine, called Yavariv in Ukrainian, where he lived until the age of 11. He spoke to me of his childhood as a past from which he had, thankfully, escaped.

It is not uncommon for individuals to seek escape from a painful childhood past. However, we are learning from contemporary trauma theory that, as much as we may want to leave the past behind us, it lives on within us. Ukraine lives on in the deep psychic life of many of us and in the psychic life of the Canadian Jewish community with its extensive roots on Ukrainian territory.

As we are all aware, the Ukrainian people are heroically resisting a brutal assault by Russian forces. As well as eliciting fear, horror and outrage, this situation presents us with an invitation to move beyond our feelings of separation from our history on Ukrainian soil and from the Ukrainian people. The war provides us with the opportunity to claim our own legacy and place in the new, complex, multiethnic, multiracial, democratic Ukraine, with all its triumphs, challenges and contradictions. This is an opportunity for healing.

I want to share some of what I have learned that has helped me on this healing path.

If we look at the historic record of Jewish life on Ukrainian territory, we see that Jewish-Ukrainian coexistence was deep, complex and multi-dimensional. Demographically, Ukrainian territory was one of the main centres of Jewish life for more than 400 years. On the eve of the Holocaust, there were more than two-and-a-half million Jews in that area.

There were periods of horrific violence and crippling antisemitism against Jews on Ukrainian territory, as well as periods of ongoing systematic prejudice. These realities must not be overlooked or minimized. But we also see many examples of interconnection between Ukrainian Jews and ethnic Ukrainians. We see many examples of shared music with similar melodies and even bilingual songs; of similar folk stories; and of similar folk remedies and folk healing practices, with Jewish Ukrainian and ethnic Ukrainian folk healers sharing their remedies with each other and tending to both populations.

And there is considerable similarity in those quintessential Jewish activities – food preparation and consumption. This past summer, I made pickles with my Ukrainian-Canadian friend Beverly Dobrinsky, using an old family recipe of hers. The next day, I discovered the exact same recipe, grain of salt per grain of salt, in my own disordered family recipe collection.

Looking at literary translation, one of my passions, we find many examples of the translation of works between Yiddish and Ukrainian and between Ukrainian and Yiddish. In the late 1920s, Ukrainian writer Yuriy Budiak wrote two bird-themed children’s books that have been described as delightful and playful. Shortly thereafter, the books were published in Yiddish translation and enjoyed by Yiddish-speaking Jewish children. These books were recently published by Naydus Press in the United States in a trilingual edition – Ukrainian, Yiddish and English – to raise funds for the Ukrainian war effort.

During the 1930s, both Yiddish and Ukrainian writers experienced repression by the Stalinist Soviet government and experienced difficulty publishing their own writing. In response, they began translating one another’s work and the work of Soviet-sanctioned writers from one another’s cultures. The esteemed Yiddish poet Dovid Hofshteyn translated the work of Taras Shevchenko, known as “the national bard of Ukraine.” The Yiddish writer Leib Kvitko taught Yiddish to the Ukrainian writer Pavlo Tychyna, who went on to translate a number of Yiddish writers into Ukrainian.

As Prof. David Fishman from the Jewish Theological Centre in New York points out, all these similarities and interconnections‚“only happen with close contact.”

Moving into the present, by focusing solely or predominantly on past violence and persecution, we fail to take into account the cataclysmic changes Ukraine has undergone, notably since the breakup of the Soviet Union and the country’s emergence in 1991 as an independent nation with a sizable contemporary Jewish population. David Klion estimated, in Jewish Currents, that the Jewish population of Ukraine at the time of the Russian invasion in February of 2022 was more than 100,000 people.

Since independence, Ukrainians have been redefining what it means to be Ukrainian, moving from an ethnic category of belonging based on ethnic and religious identity to a civic category based on citizenship. This is an important issue for all Ukrainians, but particularly for the many individuals, including Jews, who are not ethnically Ukrainian.

Last April, I had the enormous privilege of hearing a Zoom talk organized by the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre and given by Dr. Magda Havryshko, a Ukrainian academic. Havryshko spoke of two different national narratives in Ukraine, an ethnocentric narrative focusing on the country as the homeland of the Ukrainian people, and a multiethnic narrative “that priorizes examining Ukraine’s difficult history in relation to Jews.” Havryshko shared information about several inspiring initiatives undertaken in Ukraine in relation to its Jewish population. I will outline three of these initiatives here: during the celebration of Ukrainian independence in 2021, Holocaust history and memory was central; the history of the Holocaust on Ukrainian territory is now taught in all schools beginning at the elementary level; and, lastly, President Volodymir Zelensky and his government have set out a definition of antisemitism, introducing legal punishments for antisemitic acts.

Prof. Amelia Glaser, who studies and teaches comparative literature and translation, has spoken about a desire among contemporary Ukrainian writers to “look very closely at past moments of history and of ethnic violence as Ukrainian tragedies‚” rather than solely as Jewish tragedies. The book-length poem “Babyn Yar in Voices‚” by Marianna Kiyanovska, a non-Jewish Ukrainian, about the 1941 slaughter of Jews in a ravine outside Kyiv, was recently published in English translation by Oksana Maksymshuk. Further, several works by Ukrainian Yiddish writers have been recently translated into Ukrainian, including the fabulous avant-garde Yiddish poetry of Debora Vogel and Sholem Aleichem’s Tevye, which many of you know as Fiddler on the Roof. By the way, Sholem Aleichem lived most of his adult life in Kyiv, a city that he loved.

Without in any way discounting the violence and antisemitism against Jews on Ukrainian territory, I hope I have provided a little forshpayz, an appetizer, about areas of cooperation and interconnection between Ukrainian Jews and ethnic Ukrainians. I have focused on translation and literature, two of my passions, but I encourage you to look for examples of interconnection in the areas of your own interest.

When I think about healing my relationship with Ukraine, it helps me to think about the complexity of my own identity and experience. I am the granddaughter of Jewish immigrants who fled poverty and persecution in different parts of the former Russian Empire, including Ukrainian territory, at the beginning of the 20th century. My maternal grandparents settled in Montreal; my paternal grandparents, in New York. It is telling that I do not know the specific history of the Indigenous nations in the areas in which my grandparents settled but I think I can assume that the lands had been forcibly taken from the Indigenous inhabitants. Two generations later, I continue to live on unceded (that is – stolen) territory, that of the Squamish (Sḵwx̱wú7mesh), Tsleil-Waututh (səlilwətaɬ), Musqueam (xʷməθkʷəy̓əm) and Kwikwetlem (kʷikʷəƛ̓əm) First Nations.

Canadian society is involved in a collective process of teshuvah, of redefining the relationship between us settlers and the Indigenous peoples on this land. Like all settlers, as Canadian Jews, we are challenged to take responsibility for our active involvement or silent complicity in the ongoing Canadian genocidal project against our country’s Indigenous inhabitants. Can we see our commonality with Ukrainians as we both address our brutal oppression of “the other”? Are we, as Canadian Jews, willing to embrace the complexity of our lived experience, to look both at our privilege, especially when it is experienced at the expense of others, as well as at our own painful experience of victimization? Can we hold both at once with integrity?

I finish by sharing the wisdom spoken by an Indigenous man, whose name I unfortunately did not get, at Grandview Park at this past year’s Orange Shirt Day. “When you take a step to heal, you also heal the ancestors. You heal the ones behind and the ones ahead.”

I welcome ongoing dialogue on the issues raised in this talk. Thank you for your kind and open attention.

Helen Mintz’s translation of Vilna My Vilna: Stories by Abraham Karpinowitz (Syracuse University Press, 2016) garnered three literary awards, and her translation of Janusz Korczak: Teacher and Child Advocate by Zalmen Wassertzug is under consideration by the University of Poznan Press. Mintz’s translations have appeared in In Geveb, Jewishfiction.net and Pakn Treger, and her writings about translation in Words without Borders and BC Studies. Her website is helenmintz.net.

The journey to healing

Katherine Matlashewski is creator, performer and co-producer of Disclosure, which “explores the struggles of a survivor searching for pathways toward healing in an adversarial medical system.” (photo from Disclosure Productions)

“Disclosure was inspired by a true story that focuses on the process of healing,” explained Katherine Matlashewski, creator, performer and co-producer of the production that will see several performances during the Vancouver Fringe Festival, Sept. 8-18.

“The way in which trauma affects the mind and body is complex and unique to each individual,” Matlashewski told the Independent. “Through movement, spoken word, soundscape and humour, Disclosure explores the struggles of a survivor searching for pathways toward healing in an adversarial medical system.”

An interdisciplinary artist, Matlashewski is a graduate of Studio 58. She has trained with Arts Umbrella and the Arts Club, and has performed with several companies, including Theatre Replacement, Metro Theatre, Stage 43 and Royal City Musical Theatre. The award-winning theatre artist is an instructor at Carousel Theatre for Young People and Arts Umbrella.

“Prior to attending Studio 58,” she said, “my training was based in movement and musical theatre. In musical theatre, when a character does not have the words to express themselves, they sing. When singing is not enough, they dance. I do not always have the words to describe how I am feeling, so I naturally turn to creating interdisciplinary works. While I was developing Disclosure, I realized that combining multiple disciplines could be utilized to convey what could not be communicated through text.”

Every Fringe performance of Disclosure will include a 10-minute post-show discussion facilitated by a representative from WAVAW Rape Crisis Centre.

The first iteration of the one-person show was presented at Studio 58 as part of Matlashewski’s graduation solo performance this past spring. “With the hopes of expanding Disclosure to a wider audience,” she said, “I applied for the 2022 Vancouver Fringe Festival. After my performance at Studio 58, I was approached by director Jane Heyman about developing my show further. After being selected as a Vancouver Fringe Festival lottery finalist, I reached out to Jane about directing the show for the Fringe and I was overjoyed when she accepted! I then began building a creative team of local emerging and early career artists.”

Heyman is also a member of the Jewish community, and she was already attached to the production when creative producer Natasha Zacher came on board.

“Katherine and I connected in May 2022, after Disclosure was accepted into the Vancouver Fringe Festival,” said Zacher. “However, we have known each other for a few years, since working alongside each other on a (very!) different Vancouver Fringe Festival show in 2015. Katherine reached my way as she knew a good deal about my professional journey, integrating work as an independent theatre-maker and a mental health clinician. We reconnected quickly on the premise and hopes for the production, and I was very glad to join the team.”

As a producer, Zacher said, “My primary focuses are on seeking funding for the show (grants, sponsorships, donations), creating and managing our budget, coordinating timelines for marketing and promotions initiatives for the show … contracting artists, liaising with the Vancouver Fringe team regarding production needs and, recently, developing and facilitating COVID-19 safety plans.”

Given the nature of the production, there are additional safety plans.

“It is important to take the time to create a safe, inclusive and accessible rehearsal and performance space,” said Matlashewski. “Part of my artistic practice is to create a ‘room agreement.’ This is a living document, written by the artists involved in the production. In our room agreement, we include boundaries and guidelines about how we will communicate and conduct ourselves in the rehearsal process. Something I value is taking the time to include a check in and out at the beginning and end of each rehearsal day.

“In addition,” she said, “to promote self-care, the artistic team has decided to stagger rehearsals, and also observe Shabbat by not rehearsing on Fridays.”

The seriousness of the material does not mean Disclosure is devoid of lighter moments.

“There are many ways to heal from trauma. Humour is one of them!” Matlashewski said. “Having witnessed and experienced generational trauma, I have come to understand that humour can help create distance from a difficult incident. In addition, sometimes humour is more palatable for an audience. For me, the journey to healing is like a rollercoaster. It is not linear in any way. Even in the most challenging of times, humour can facilitate healing.”

Disclosure will be presented at the NEST on Granville Island during the Fringe Festival. For anyone wanting to support the show, there is a GoFundMe campaign. “Funds raised will go directly to production costs and compensating the artists involved for their time, energy and expertise,” said Matlashewski.

Other ways to support the production include buying tickets to one of the shows (vancouverfringe.com/festival/disclosure), sharing the GoFundMe page link (gofund.me/43a8ae0d) with friends and following the production on Instagram (@disclosure.production).

“I am looking forward to seeing how the audience responds to the performance,” said Zacher. “I don’t have any expectations, and want to walk into the experience of getting the show on stage as an open book. I hope the audience feels empowered to take with them whatever supports them to feel seen and heard.”

Sculpting emotion with glass

Some of Tara Pawson’s Human Beams. (photo from Tara Pawson)

Tara Pawson’s fascination with glass began when she was in high school.

“My dad was a welder,” she said. “He would bring home some metal pieces, and I would fabricate some garden art in our garage. Then, I got a birthday present – a weeklong class of glass-blowing – and I knew that was what I wanted to do with my life. Before that class, I was planning to go to a culinary school after graduation. After it, nothing else but glass.”

Pawson’s solo show, Human Beams, opened on March 22 at the Zack Gallery.

“Glass is a fascinating medium,” Pawson told the Independent. “It combines all the elements: air, fire, wood, metal, water. It is labour-intensive and demanding, and the results are beautiful and fragile. There is a contradiction there.”

photo - Glass artist Tara Pawson at work — Glass artist Tara Pawson at work. *(photo from Tara Pawson)*

Pawson enjoys the process of glass-blowing – despite its inherent danger. “It’s like a game to me,” she said. “I’m not afraid of getting hurt. I have been once or twice, but I love doing it all the same…. When a piece is finished, I always want to do it again, in a different way.”

She loves the functionality of glass, its accessibility to everyone in the forms of glassware or candelabras. “I’m not drawn to huge installations. I want to make art for the people,” she said, “for their homes and their hearts.”

Pawson doesn’t have a classical art education, but she has taken many workshops in a wide variety of glass-blowing techniques over the years. “I apprenticed and I learned,” she said.

At 21, she found a job with Robert Held Art Glass.

“The company created giftware and home decor,” she said. “I learned a great deal there. It was a full-time job, and I did everything: glass-blowing, sales, cleaning. I stayed with them for about eight years. During the week, I worked for the company, but on the weekends, they allowed me to use their glass-blowing equipment, and I started making things for myself.”

Then she moved to a company that created glass light fixtures. “There, I learned to work with a different type of glass, different styles, different process,” she said.

About six years ago, Pawson decided to become an independent glass artist. “After my youngest son was born, it was time,” she said. “I wanted to make my own hours and [have] no commute to work, so I could spend more time with my family.”

For the equipment, she joined Terminal City Glass Coop and rents time when it suits her schedule. She makes some unique artworks.

“I make glass gifts and I make memorial pieces that are very popular,” she said. “Those memorial keepsakes are small glass baubles – hearts or orbs or coins – which incorporate tiny amounts of cremains within the glass matrix. The result is a treasured heirloom. I can make them for several family members, so they will always have a keepsake to remember their loved ones. People love them. One client of mine said she always wanted to travel with her father. After he died, she took the glass marble with his ashes on her travels, so he was with her everywhere. This way, she had no problems with customs – an urn with his ashes might be much harder to pass through customs.”

Pawson’s giftware includes vases and glasses, paperweights and funky little “monsters,” candleholders and Christmas ornaments. She sells her glass in several stores in British Columbia, Alberta and Ontario, as well as online, through her website and her Etsy shop. She is also an active participant in many seasonal markets. Recently, she created a new collection of glass beams, which are included in her current show at the Zack.

“My mother passed away shortly before the COVID lockdown started,” Pawson explained. “I was dealing with my grief and I felt alone in the pandemic. Everything was closed. So I started working on these glass pieces. They helped me process my grief. I thought, maybe I could share it, help others. I never had an art show before. I started asking around how to go about it, whom to approach. I know Hope [Forstenzer] through the Terminal City Glass Coop. I asked for her advice, and she said: ‘Why don’t you apply at the JCC? We have a gallery there.’ I did. This is my first show.”

The show at the Zack, where Forstenzer is director, displays three distinct lines: Human Beams glassware, Thought Towers sculptures and Pearls of Light wall decorations. The Human Beams series works are tall cylindrical glasses of different colours, decorated with mandalas.

“The cylinders start as dark shadowy forms and flow into the bright beams of light,” Pawson said. “They reflect the timeline of the dark days, when the trauma begins, and grow organically towards the light days, when you find peace.”

She explained the symbolism of a mandala, which “represents the universe in Hinduism and Buddhism,” she said. “Their circular design without beginnings or ends is a symbol of a spiritual journey. They illustrate the events, memories and thoughts we have when the emotion of grief consumes us. Some days are darker than others, but, with time, work and support, we learn to ride those waves…. I hand-carved every mandala on every glass. It took me about four hours for each mandala. I think I’m done with them for awhile.”

photo - One of Tara Pawson’s Thought Towers — One of Tara Pawson’s Thought Towers. *(photo from Tara Pawson)*

The Thought Towers are sculptural compositions, orbs of various sizes and colours growing like a tree out of each other. The lighter, bigger orbs echo lighter emotions, like hope or joy, but they are always interspaced with small dark orbs of desperation, guilt or anger. “The Thought Towers convey a spectrum of emotions,” said Pawson. “As we deal with grief, we have good days and bad days. Anything could trigger a crippling emotional response – a song, an image, a TV episode. But we have to remember that good days always follow the bad ones.”

And then, there are the Pearls, each one hand-formed, each a complex and beautiful glass tablet. “Each one is a person or an event we encounter in our daily lives,” Pawson said. “Pearls of Light, or Baily’s Beads, are a phenomenon seen during a sun eclipse. These spots of light encircle the moon. They resemble a string of luminous beads, visible immediately before and after a total eclipse. They are the people around us, our family and friends.”

Pawson’s exhibit is on display until April 28. For more information about her and her work, visit her website, tarapawson.com.

Olga Livshin is a Vancouver freelance writer. She can be reached at [email protected].

Finding the goddess in the Torah

(photo by Yochi Rappeport)

Rabbi Gila Caine of Edmonton’s Temple Beth Ora was the lead-off speaker in November for Kolot Mayim’s six-part 2021/22 series Building Bridges: Celebrating Diversity in Jewish Life. Her talk, Toratah / Her Torah: Women Rabbis Revealing the Goddess in Torah, looked at the Tanakh (Hebrew Bible) from a less patriarchal perspective.

“It’s not new to have women involved in Jewish life. Women have always been involved in Jewish life in the home and in the family,” Caine began. “The new thing about recent generations is that women are publicly active. That’s a big difference.”

For the last few decades, she said, scholars have gone back into the text and started digging to find hints and remains of ancient goddesses. By goddess, Caine means the “sacred feminine.” The scholars search the texts to see if they can unveil clues, much like archeology, which will allow them to tell different stories than the ones that have already been told.

“It’s not that the researchers find the old stories useless; rather, they see it as just one part of the whole. To expand the story, the researchers pose questions, such as what did women believe in, how did they worship, and what were their lives like and what did God look like to them at that time?” Caine explained. The text is reinterpreted, and turned into commentaries and midrashim. As an example, she introduced the audience to two recent books: Dabri Torah: Israeli Women Interpret the Torah (published this year, in Hebrew) and Torah: A Women’s Commentary (WRJ Press, 2008).

Throughout her talk, Caine wove connections of Asherah, the mother goddess in ancient Semitic religions, to the heroines of the Torah, such as Sarah and Eve (Chava). Asherah is perceived as hiding within the texts. (Asherah, too, was connected to the Tree of Life, which, in images shown during Caine’s presentation, resembled a menorah.)

One midrash highlighted in the talk related to the Binding of Isaac. In it, Sarah goes and spends the night with King Abimelech. She does not sleep with him but still comes back pregnant, leaving Abraham furious. He hears voices telling him he must kill his son. As he raises his hand to slaughter Isaac, suddenly he sees a deer in the bushes.

This is interpreted as the moment of transition into patriarchy. The deer represents the mother goddess who wants to save her son. “As Sarah dies right after the Akedah, she perhaps does so to save her son,” Caine said.

On the subject of Eve, Caine quoted Rabbi Rachel Adler: “the world of patriarchy cries out for mending. A mending world would commit itself to equality and power sharing, to working collectively to fulfil needs and solve problems. Reunited again with the rest of Creation, men and women could learn again to be loving friends as the traditional rabbinic wedding blessing portrays them.”

Caine pointed out that Adler – through her rereading of the text and reinterpreting what a Jewish relationship is about – restructured the Jewish wedding ceremony. She took the Jewish language of covenant into the ceremony and not kinyan, which implies taking ownership, and created a brit avuhim, or lovers’ covenant. (See ritualwell.org/ritual/brit-ahuvim-lovers-covenant.)

Lastly, Caine spoke about a project, led by Israeli-American artist Yael Kanarek, to rewrite and regender the Torah, i.e., a male in the traditional text is now referred to as female and vice versa. Though the story remains the same, there would now be, for example, a female Jacob with 12 daughters and four husbands. “Suddenly, we have a mirror image of Torah,” said Caine. “It’s very interesting to read it and the immense midrash that it creates for Torah, as well as for our own understanding of who is telling the story and who is part of the story.”

When looked at this way, Caine said, new things come up and are discovered in Torah. By finding the sacred feminine in the texts, she said she is able to understand how she relates and could be part of the process of studying Torah.

“It’s part of a larger question of how do we heal our tradition and take a Judaism that seems at times very disconnected from the earth. By being able to access the language of goddess, it has enabled me to reimagine and to rethink how I do ritual and Judaism, and how I do everyday life – that aims not at the goddess at all – and create a Judaism that speaks to us now in our lives today.”

Born and raised in Jerusalem, Caine graduated the Hebrew University with a master’s in contemporary Judaism and received her rabbinic ordination at the Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion’s Israeli program in 2011. Her rabbinic thesis explored liturgical, spiritual and ceremonial aspects of birth in Jewish tradition and contemporary practice. Stemming from that, as well as her years as volunteer at a rape crisis centre, she is one of the founders of the Israeli rabbinic women’s group B’not Dinah, creating a female and feminist rabbinic tradition of healing after sexual trauma.

For more information about Beit Toratah visit beittoratah.org. To register for the next Building Bridges lecture, go to kolotmayimreformtemple.com.

Sam Margolis has written for the Globe and Mail, the National Post, UPI and MSNBC.

Judaism and addiction

When we think of Pesach, the theme that emerges is: “We were slaves of Pharaoh in Egypt, but the Lord brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand.” As slaves, we endured years of torture and hardship, with no choice but to obey the edicts of the Pharaoh. In essence, we were powerless. Those addicted to either drugs, alcohol or a behaviour (think gaming, gambling) are slaves as well. They are chained to a disease that has control over their lives – their brain has been kidnapped into thinking “this is what I need to live, to survive.” They no longer have freedom. Often, the notion that they can break free is beyond what they can envision.

When the Jews left Egypt, their days in the desert were a struggle. Some wondered why they left what they knew for the unknown. Yet, here they were. With manna for food, a cloud for protection, they wandered for 40 years: a long, hard journey to learn how to live with their new-found freedom.

When someone initially breaks the chains of addiction, the struggles they face are no less daunting. There is fear, a sense of loss; a feeling of, will this work? Can I be successful? Will I be better off? In essence, they can feel like they are in a desert.

To assist individuals in the precarious time of new-found freedom, JACS Vancouver has launched the Sustaining Recovery program: a wrap-around service that supports clients with individual counseling, assessment and program planning.

Working with our client, we together build and implement a personalized set of supports and tools that focus on where they are in their journey, and what specific supports they need. When the opportunity arises, we help them focus on identifying the forces, triggers and/or messages that are beneath the surface of their addiction. They learn how to make different choices, where to go for help and how to recognize that life is better, health is possible.

The path to freedom, as our ancestors found out, was not easy – nor is it for those wanting to sustain recovery from addiction. With personal willingness and commitment, and solid and constant support, success and a purposeful life is within reach.

Shelley Karrel is a registered clinical counselor, and is manager of counseling and community education at JACS Vancouver. For more information about JACS, contact [email protected].

The “choosing people”

Angelica Poversky (photo from Angelica Poversky)

Temple Sholom Sisterhood’s social action committee invited members of the community to broaden their understanding of who is Jewish and consider how expansive the community could be in the first of its Tikkun Atzmi Series: Healing Ourselves to Heal the World. The Feb. 4 Zoom event featured panelists Carmel Tanaka, a community engagement professional, and poet Angelica Poversky.

Tikkun atzmi, to repair oneself, is considered the first step on the path towards tikkun olam, repair of the world. Along the way, there are also tikkun bayit, strengthening the family, and tikkun kahal, healing the community.

Tikkun atzmi implies looking inwards and reflecting on what should be taking place within the Jewish community, particularly as it pertains to marginalized groups, such as people of colour, LGBTQ+ individuals and others who consider themselves distanced from the tribe. The past year, the organizers said, has highlighted “so many of the inequities that persist in our world.”

“Not only am I deeply invested in making our Judaism grounded in social justice any opportunity I get, I know and love many Jews who feel as though they didn’t have a home in the community and I am invested in changing that,” moderator Dalya Israel began.

Tanaka spoke about coming to terms with the descriptions that derive from being the child of a multi-racial marriage. Often, she would refer to herself as half-Jewish and half-Japanese. “It wasn’t until years later that I realized I am not half of anything – I am fully Jewish and fully Japanese-Canadian. I can be all of these things and celebrate all of these things,” she told the Zoom audience.

Carmel Tanaka (photo by Manoa1)

Tanaka recalled experiences of her time as director of the University of Victoria Hillel, where she encountered several students who felt alienated from the community because they were not halachically Jewish. Realizing that it can be traumatic for someone to be told they don’t belong in a group, she endeavoured to create a safe space at UVic for anyone who may be Jewish, Jew-ish or Jew-curious.

Poversky referenced the exclusion that some Jews within the LGBTQ+ community have endured. “It is horrible that people are not fully accepted,” they said. “What is our goal if not to uplift everyone? Why create barriers? Those feelings of persecution can be very painful, so why place them on others?”

The discussion touched on the causes for the limited presence of younger and/or marginalized people in synagogues and other areas of Jewish life. Tanaka recounted a story about her mother who, years ago, was told by a synagogue that she was welcome to come to services but was asked to leave her husband at home.

While attitudes may have improved since then, there is still much more room available for inclusion and diversity, said Tanaka. “I feel, in order for the term Jewish to be more expansive, it needs to expand far enough to be a safe space for anyone who wants to identify as Jewish,” she said.

Israel, citing Sarah Hurwitz’s 2019 book Here All Along: Finding Meaning, Spirituality and a Deeper Connection to Life – in Judaism (After Finally Choosing to Look There), put forward the notion that, instead of thinking of themselves as the “Chosen People,” Jews could be the “choosing people.”

“Every day, we wake and choose to be Jews, and the way we live our life,” Israel said.

“Community happens when we complete ourselves,” Poversky added. They spoke about moving away from “action-based” assumptions about Judaism or sexual identity and attaching more importance to the declaration of one’s identity. That is, one can say they are Jewish without the acts of celebrating Chanukah or reading Torah. Implicit in Poversky’s statement was the “restrictive construct” within institutions that defines or even “polices” the identity of another individual because that person belongs to a marginalized group.

Tanaka shared experiences of visiting synagogues and being asked about her name, her lineage and her proficiency in Hebrew. This line of questioning to Jews of colour and others, she believes, is what has caused people to distance themselves from the Jewish community.

“It is the dance of having to prove who you are through actions,” Tanaka explained. “It is what we call microaggressions. When you have this happen over and over again, it can be emotionally exhausting.”

Tanaka, a queer Jewpanese woman of colour, is founder of JQT Vancouver (pronounced “J-Cutie”), Vancouver’s Jewish queer trans nonprofit. She also leads a monthly Zoom call for Jewpanese and their families from all over the world.

Poversky is a queer non-binary Russian-Jewish poet who has more than seven years of facilitation experience. They’ve taught poetry workshops in schools, in libraries, with youth groups, in community centres, and at dozens of festivals across North America. Much of their activism has been devoted to queer and trans celebration.

The Sisterhood’s three Tikkun Atzmi panels are designed to fuel the action committee’s dedication to social justice. Future panels will invite participants to elucidate on ways of bringing awareness to systemic inequity and its impacts on the Jewish community. They will also delve into their Judaism and explore sacred teachings for guidance in caring for and making space for one another.

Sam Margolis has written for the Globe and Mail, the National Post, UPI and MSNBC.

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To watch the entire Tikkun Atzmi panel discussion, click here (the passcode for the video is !*n?RC1s).

Mussar & tikkun olam

Dr. Rachael Turkienicz (photo from Kolot Mayim)

At a Jan. 3 Zoom lecture organized by Kolot Mayim Reform Temple in Victoria, Dr. Rachael Turkienicz spoke about mussar (Jewish ethics), tikkun olam (repairing the world) and whether there is a commandment to build bridges.

Turkienicz, founder and director of the Toronto-based Rachael’s Centre of Torah, Mussar and Ethics, began at the beginning, explaining why the Torah starts with creation and not with the patriarchs and matriarchs or the first commandment in Exodus.

“We start with Genesis because it is the ‘common’ that all human beings will have, and so Judaism will begin with what we all have in common,” she said. “No person can ever say to another person, ‘My father is greater than your father.’ And Father in this instance can be capitalized. One person creates the great equalizer. We should never fight with one another over this.”

She then showed how tikkun olam follows from creation, and raised the questions, When did the world break and how did it break? As man is finite and God is infinite, cracks will occur in the process of creation, and it is up to humanity to repair them, according to Turkienicz.

How do we repair? Through free will, she explained. “Free will is the most powerful thing next to God. It is so powerful that I can use my free will to deny God.”

The problem, however, is that “nowhere do we have a program that teaches us what free will is and how to use it,” she said.

In the course of daily routines, free will can take a less prominent role in our thinking, as many of us coast along “on automatic,” i.e., we function without making choices. As a result, nothing is being repaired and the world is continuing as it always does, she explained.

One example of being on automatic is when someone poses the question to an acquaintance passing by: “How are you?” The response is frequently: “I’m OK.” Neither the person asking nor the respondent delves deeply into the subject before moving on.

Being able to use free will is further compounded by the number of choices we have in an open society. Citing academic studies, Turkienicz contended that having a vast array of options available can actually hinder our ability to make use of the power of free will.

Enter mussar, a spiritual practice founded on offering a solid framework on living an ethical life. Mussar differs from kabbalah (Jewish mysticism). Whereas kabbalah is knowledge one receives, mussar moves from a person into the world, said Turkienicz.

Mussar stems from the concept that it is all well and good to know the commandments and recite Torah. However, such knowledge in itself does not make someone a mensch. “Mussar is learning to use my free will to repair the world. The commandments are the utensils, the goal is tikkun olam,” Turkienicz explained.

While mussar has been around for more than a millennium, it expanded in the 19th century to communities throughout Eastern Europe. Before the war, it was studied at the top continental yeshivot, but nearly all the leading exponents of mussar were murdered in the Holocaust. Recently, though, there has been a resurgence of the practice in both Orthodox and more liberal branches of Judaism.

Turkienicz compared mussar with other ethical philosophies, using the scenario of a person seated on a bus when an elderly person boards. Most of us are taught that we should give up our seat in such a situation. But what if the elderly person declines the offer? Ethics would say to sit back down, whereas mussar suggests that one should stay standing, because the issue is not about the elderly person but rather one’s own free will.

“Inside of me something said it is not appropriate for me to sit while an older person remains standing. Whether the elderly person sits down or not changes nothing,” she argued.

According to mussar, we are in control of the personal ingredients that comprise us, be they spirituality or patience. We all have the same ingredients, only the measurements are different, said Turkienicz. A person who does not see himself as spiritual still has a degree of spirituality. Likewise, someone who deems herself impatient has an allocation of patience within her. Our free will distributes the measurements.

“My free will chooses what is my perspective and where will I focus,” Turkienicz said.

As to whether there is a commandment to build bridges, she quoted Israel Salanter, a 19th-century rabbi and founder of the modern mussar movement, who said, “A good Jew is not one who worries about his fellow man’s soul and his own stomach, but about his fellow man’s stomach and his own soul.”

Turkienicz concluded that, while there is no commandment to build bridges, “everything else shows us we should do so, because, if we choose not to, we have lived where that leads us, and we don’t want to go there.”

To view the presentation in full, go to kolotmayimreformtemple.com and search “lectures.” Turkienicz’s talk was part of the synagogue’s Building Bridges series, the next instalment of which takes place March 7, featuring University of Calgary art professor Jennifer Eiserman on Canadian Jewish art. Click here for more information.

Sam Margolis has written for the Globe and Mail, the National Post, UPI and MSNBC.