Bari Mitzmann is a popular podcaster whose goal is to empower women, normalize mental illness, and discuss seemingly taboo topics in the Jewish community. She has a MA in education and has worked in outreach.
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So much of what we accept as true about ourselves, about others, about the world, is based on appearance. It looks like what we know, so we assume it is what we know.
I’ve realized that if I only associate a vort with a sequined dress and a party, I’m missing the actual power of the concept. The traditional definition, a meaningful connection to the words of Torah, has evolved from an event into a daily mission.
Healing has taught me something softer. Good does not always arrive loud or dramatic. Sometimes it is subtle, barely noticeable. I just have to slow down enough to see it.
Today, Chol HaMoed looks different. It’s about the kids. Taking them to the local jumping place, the orchard, or up to the mountains for air that feels fresher somehow when it’s wrapped in Yom Tov.
I used to think that if I followed the “right” formula, the one I’d learned, absorbed, inherited, I’d feel okay. Say the tefillah, keep the mitzvah, share the vulnerability online, smile in real life. But when the anxiety kept coming anyway and the joy didn’t show up on cue, I blamed myself.
We rarely have complete clarity, but we’re still expected to move forward. We gather what we can, weigh our options, and take our best shot.
Each of my children has different strengths, weaknesses, and learning styles. With Hashem’s help, they will all find their own individual paths.
Each of us must ask: is this Judaica enriching my practice or serving as a status symbol? Does it deepen my joy in the mitzvah, or overshadow it?
Leaves represent the cycles of life and how where we seem to be can be deceiving, and how we are all connected.
One of my fondest memories in sleepaway camp was when it became dark and cloudy out. While some were bummed that the gray sky cancelled their swimming or sports play plans, I looked forward to the downpour and what came after.
Whether it's a time for growth, reflection, mourning, celebration, or rest, understanding the significance of moed encourages us to embrace the present moment fully, trusting in the divine timing of our journey.
Blue holds a profound significance in Jewish life, symbolizing depth, wisdom, and divine intervention.
Beis Shammai was the House of Ideal. It's what we could be. It's seeing our potential from a soul first lens. Beis Hillel was the House of The People, the House of Reality. It met people where they were at, weighing the connection and the disagreements the body and soul have.
Rosh Hashana helps us reset, recognizing that Hashem is the Creator of the world and is continuously involved in the world.
To know they must not suffer in silence and that there is an army of people who have their back – that is comfort.
The tablets were our first tangible source of information given to us by Hashem. It is where our non-separable connection began.
To be honest, when I saw this as the word prompt, I felt a pit in my stomach. There is so much pain and struggle associated with this word.
It’s more than just thank you and covers much, much more than the act itself.
My husband has inherited some of his namesake's traits. He is steadfast in what he believes is truth and will pursue it, much like Shmuel HaNavi did.
Bais Yaakov is not a school. It is the term Moshe uses when speaking to the Jewish women. We as Jewish women are a unit. When we realize that, we are a force to be reckoned with.
As an influencer who speaks to many women on a daily basis, I find myself saying "oy" when someone shares an unfortunate situation with me. I guess it's my version of "oy gevalt" without the gevalt.
I did notice that the Hebrew word for wig is a peya, so I’m naturally going to think of a connection there.



