Walking into Starbucks on a warm California winter morning, I hear the voice of a South African on her phone. How did so many South Afridan Jews end up in San Diego? I wonder.
I assume my place in line, and she behind me. Do I know you? she says.
I want her to stop talking to me. She doesn't know me. I've never seen her before. She's just another one of the throngs of quaint-speaking Jews in the area, all the same, all delightful.
She's my third grade teacher.
In an unexpected moment of nostalgia, we catch up, and trade compliments, and go on our ways, me with my split coffee, she with her nonfat latte. Two days later, I find myself wandering the streets of Berkeley, having visited with a mentor of old, seeing old sights and smelling old smells, and generally living a life once lived.
Nearly four years ago I left these places, separated myself from the life of old, leaving it all behind for Israel and New York, and new organizations and people.
But why forget all this greatness? There were so many experiences and wonders witnessed. And walking the streets it floods my disoriented brain, and I remember the best of it all, the most important things learned, the successes and the hapiness and the life lived.
5. Looks Are Deceiving:
Hippies, liberals, dreadlocks and bumper stickers fill this land. It can seem dirty and ridiculous and off the wall - a foreign country even. This is the place where street vendors yell to tell you "Your yarmulke's on backwards." But in this progressive land of homeless people abundant, there are smart, caring people, ready to make this world an amazing place. Experience is what makes a place special, not aesthetics.
4. The Great Ones Are Always There
I walk into the home late in the morning, and two young voices greet me. Last time I was here, they could barely speak. They run off to play their games, and I sit for an extended coffee with one of the greats who taught me how to succeed, how to thrive, how to be happy, how to be a mench in this world. Four years ago we parted ways, but even today he's here to help at a moment's notice, ready to give advice and a hand and a letter of recommendation. His head is on straight, he wants what's best for the Jewish community, and labors tirelessly for it. He is a dugma to all, and that he stands by me means the world.
3. Good Friendship Doesn't Fade
I sit at a dinner table with two of life's best friends, separated far too long by time and circumstance and busy lives and relationships. But within seconds we pick up where we left off, the smiles and joy doesn't change. We remember the good times, talk about new ones, catch up, eat and enjoy. We rededicate ourselves to better communication. Maybe, this time, we'll succeed. Maybe not. People change. Fads come and go. The good friends remain there, waiting.
2. You Can Change the World
I walk past driveway after driveway filled with Priuses (Priusim?). I ride a comfortable public transit system for $1.40 a trip. I pass through an empty plaza where we rallied, and socialized, and planned our next moves. We danced there on Simchat Torah, gathered there on 9/11. This was a place, this is a place where we were ever cognizant of our ability to change the world - one person, one town at a time. That power doesn't go away. You only lose the ability if you convince yourself otherwise.
1. Don't Believe the Limiting Assumptions
I'll admit that this precise wording I learned in Brooklyn, from life's newest mentor, but the message is the same. Think big. Let your aspirations lift you. Others will rally around your own passion, your excitement, your dedication. I pass the building where we made magic happen - in a month we raised $100,000 and convinced a university to sponsor the visit of a head of state. Everyone said we couldn't do it. No one supported us. But we said screw them. We did it. The important one's believed in us. Other's followed along. It was a night to be remembered forever.
In a time of change, and new people and new institutions, when I take a look at my life and the people in it and what I'm doing and where I've been, it's so easy to forget the big lessons, the one's learned in what seems like a foreign life. But they're the most important ones to remember - the greatest hits, the memories that make life worth living.
They're so important. They're so inspiriing. Thank God for it all.
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