A long time ago, when I was known by another name, I wrote an article for Mishpacha’s Family First about the pain of my child being rejected from seven different nursery schools. 

Yeah… #MeToo

The name of the article was Missing Children. You can read it here.

My daughter is 15 now and I am so grateful for her happiness in and success in a school that she adores.

But it’s more than that. 

When we were rejected from seven schools, my world felt like it was ending.

Public school was happy to welcome my kids. The local Jewish schools weren’t. So why was I fighting so hard to be accepted by places that didn’t want us?

What was I fighting for really?

That question has been an echo in the back of my mind for a decade now. More. Because school rejections weren’t the first time I asked this of myself. 

This question made me reevaluate everything.

If I was going to fight so hard for a Jewish education, I had to figure out why.

What did being Jewish really mean to me?

If I was going to fight so hard for her to be surrounded by religious classmates, I needed to figure out why. What was so important about our culture and society?

If I was going to be met with ugly rejections (I think we all know, there are rejections and then there are REJECTIONS), I was going to have to reassess my values. Did I even want to send my child to a school that displayed terrible character?

And so today when I see my children thriving in schools that reflect the values we have struggled to live by, my heart is grateful.

The other day I was schmoozing with my daughter about the upcoming Vessel course and she expressed curiosity about what participants stood to gain from joining. 

And I shared with her some of the teachings, concepts, the vision and the inspiration for its creation. 

Her response- “Ma, this is the stuff they should be teaching in schools. I can’t believe people have to wait until they’re adults to learn this.”

And her words are still in my head a day later. 

Because she’s right. 

When I was crying at the kitchen counter over another school rejection, my husband told me, “You’re crying because you don’t yet know or believe in what we’re fighting for. We’re fighting to get our kid into schools that don’t reflect our values and so the thought of having to fight for something we don’t believe in is crushing.”

And I lifted my head and told him, “But I don’t actually know what my values are.”

He looked me in the eye and replied, “Then don't you think it's time you found out?”

You know how scary it was, a mother of three who thought she knew everything (because I was 24 and at that age we all know everything), to take the plunge and start again?

To agree that I knew nothing and to be willing to call up Partners in Torah and ask for a Chavrusa (learning partner) so I could rewrite my entire world?

It was worth it. 

A hundred times over. 

A thousand times over. 

Seventy faces of Torah over. 

So much of that search is the foundation stone* of how Vessel evolved. 

It was my search.

For Values,

For Strength,

For Perspective,

For Courage,

For Self,

For a Space to Belong.

I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t searching. Maybe it’s a me thing. Maybe you’re not searching for anything. Maybe I’m the only one who just seems to bump into a lot of searchers because like attracts like and we’re finding each other. 

Searchers are lonely. We’re the people the Torah calls “Ivri” (Other). 

There’s an otherness to us. 

The feeling that no one will ever get it. 

That we might not even get ourselves. 

I still battle with otherness. 

I still battle with getting it. 

I still battle with getting to know myself. 

But I’m not lonely anymore. 

I’ve discovered a world of seekers who are ready to rewrite narratives.

Aren’t afraid to break molds.

Ask questions.

And fight for a value system worth living by.

Vessel is the school we all should have had growing up. 

At 24 (and every other age since), I’ve learned that it’s never too late to start learning again.

Because we’re never done. 

My childhood might be layered with a bunch of missing children. Parts of me that felt rejected, isolated, alone, misunderstood, unloved. 

But I refused to let my children go missing and Vessel is my promise to the ones that feel like they’re unseen inside of ourselves. 

Hadran alach (we will return to you) little ones. 

You are accepted. 

You are loved. 

You belong. 

You will always have a space with me. (song!)

 Fally

Vessel begins November 3. Sign up today for an amazing $250 discount that ends October 2!

* I’m sure you’ve noticed by now. All the good stuff happens in the P.S. Even if you don’t read through my entire email.. It’s always worth scrolling to the bottom. 

* I tend to put good links in my emails too. Usually songs that I’m listening to. You want in on my mood? Find the song link. 

* There are a lot of foundation stones to Vessel. And all of my works. Ever heard the story of stone soup? I told it to my toddler today. A lot of things have to come together for a stone to yield soup. It’s a good story. And I like telling stories in ways you’ve never heard them before. Vessel Q&A calls are the best place to hear them. 

*Vessel is also a foundation stone and required prerequisite for all of the facilitator trainings I offer. Great facilitators are not born, they're made, and they start with Vessel.