You Can Always Go Home

Return again, return again, return to the land of your soul
Return again, return again, return to the land of your soul
Return to what you are, return to who you are, return to where you are
Born and reborn again…
Return again, return again, return to the land of your soul…

Home is Where the Heart – And Soul – Is

Here we are again – now on the verge of 5783. As is typical for me, I have been doing a lot of introspection this month of Elul, in part because I was fortunate to have been given the gift of a ‘mini sabbatical’ by the Jewfolk board of directors and therefore had the time and space to do so, and in part, I think, because I was born in the month of Elul and seem to consistently do some deep thinking as I begin another orbit around the sun. I spent the month of August in Israel, returning to the land of my soul, the land of my birth, and what I consider to be my other home. While I love living in Minnesota, my soul absolutely feels most at home in Israel. And while I’m not sure I could ever actually live there for so many reasons, not the least of which is the lack of a Costco, I know that my soul will be eternally connected to that tiny sliver of land across the sea, and her people.

During this return to the Motherland, I thought a lot about what it means to be home. And somewhat confusingly, what does it mean when you have more than one home and feel at home in multiple places? I cannot say I have logical answers but I do know that having the honor of living in a world with more than one home makes me so unbelievably fortunate. And being home is not only about where I might be geographically or physically located. I know that the phrase, “home is where the heart is” is not just a cute slogan – it is absolutely true. I’m most at home when I’m with my family, with my closest friends, with my pets, and in my case – with ליבי – my heart. My name embodies this very concept. Home is very much where “my heart” is.

Work from Home

By necessity, we have become all-too-familiar with the phrase work from home in the past few years. Some of us were “working from home” long before the word coronavirus was a part of our regular lexicon and some of us have been fortunate to have found a home within our work, no matter where that work takes place. I recognize the privilege I have in saying that about my own work-life. But when home is work and work is at home, taking four weeks off without checking my emails or Slack messages or even my work-related social media accounts was exactly the deep breath that my body and mind needed. And toward the end of week four, I started to crave the familiarity of the work, the collegiality of the incredible people I get to work with every day, and the rhythms of the routine. Taking a sabbatical at the end of this shmita year was exactly the respite I needed in order to return to the excitement and motivation of what’s next. I get to do a lot of creating in this role and the mental load can be overwhelming at times but I know returning home – in this case where ‘home’ is a construct of time to reset, rejuvenate, and rest – gave me the space to be ready for Jewfolk’s next steps.

Homeward Bound

During the first weeks/months/years(?!) of the pandemic, I rediscovered my love for music — to express my emotions, to take solace in lyrics and music and rhythm that comforted me at some of the most challenging and isolating times. Listening to and playing music has always been an auditory home of sorts for me. While we were stuck in the house, I listened to the familiar music of my childhood and adolescence – mostly songs sung at camp (another home!) and some classical pieces I learned to play many years earlier. I maybe took this to an extreme by also ‘adopting’ a baby grand piano, made by the same maker as my childhood piano, and started taking lessons again for the first time in 30 years. It’s never too late to return home to whatever brings you joy!

With the beginning of a new year upon us, I am considering not just returning to that which is familiar but also learning new things and challenging myself anew. There are two songs which I did not grow up knowing but which were introduced to me recently by St. Louis Park native and songwriter, Peter Himmelman. Impermanent Things and This Too Will Pass got me through some days, hours, and even minutes when it seemed the darkness of the pandemic would stretch on forever. גם זה יעבור [Gam Zeh Yaavor] as they say in Hebrew – this too shall pass.

In a complete full circle, I’m SO excited that in celebration of Jewfolk’s BMitzvah year, Peter Himmelman will be performing an exclusive, acoustic concert for Jewfolk’s very first in-person fundraising event on October 30, FolkFest 22! While more event details and registration will be announced soon, we do hope you’ll make plans to join us for this incredible opportunity as Peter returns home and allows us to return to the things we love — live music, shared experiences, and being together with our community.

There’s No Place Like Home

And now, as we think about returning again this Rosh Hashana to enter the period of teshuvah (widely known as the time of repentance but literally translated from Hebrew as ‘return’) I can’t help but dwell in this concept of returning home, and in this mostly-post-pandemic era, what it means to return home to our synagogues, to our friends and family for celebratory meals, to whatever sense of normalcy we have now. I have to admit — it feels so good to be home.