May. I have patience?

Beloved, It’s May. Which is, pardon the bad pun, A-may-zing. The calendar seems to have flipped from March to May instantly. Time flies like an arrow. (And pardon the dad joke: fruit flies like bananas.) — All minutes (or any other quantity of time) are not the same length. Some time passes quickly. Some slowly. Zall’s second law: “HOW LONG A MINUTE IS DEPENDS ON WHICH SIDE OF THE BATHROOM DOOR YOU’RE ON.” — And. Time does not pass on my schedule. — I don’t publish an article on the last Monday of the month to remind us that 77% is often enough, and pushing ourselves constantly to strive for perfection is deleterious to our souls. And a tradition started this year: the first article of the month is a chatty one. So here we are, chatting about time and patience. — I really thought I’d have the book done and in your hands by now. But the launch is happening on its schedule. Which isn’t the same as the schedule I had in mind. And, that dissonance can lead to frustration. So, I practice patience. — It’s hard to stay patient. But what choice do I have? Suffer with being frustrated? — I’m learning to talk compassionately to myself—as I would to a 10-year old—acknowledging that the thing I want is not happening (or going to happen on my timeline) and reminding myself that it’s OK to feel frustrated. — I’m frustrated that the book isn’t yet in your hands. — Happy May! 💙rB Rabbi Brian Zachary May-er

My Letter to Habakkuk

February 26, 2026

✧✧✧ To my dearest pen pal, Habbakuk: First, let me say, no one remembers the prophets who did not deliver on the goods. Your predictions came true. And, 2500+ years later, you are still remembered. Do you remember Lenny, that guy? Kept going around Judea telling people “the goats will lay down in green pastures,” and, then, remember? It

Me, Rabbi.

February 25, 2026

✧✧✧ I am a rabbi. I have a Masters Degree in Hebrew letters and a Doctorate of Divinity, and I am ordained as a rabbi. I have each credential framed, in my office, just behind where I sit. They’re not individually affixed to the wall—they lean against one another in a stack. I like the

Way Through

February 14, 2026

✧✧✧ Hugh’s dad died a few weeks ago. Hugh is a dear friend and Presbyterian minister in Waterloo (just west of Toronto), Ontario, Canada. I call, we small-talk for a while, and then I ask, “How is your heart?” “I appreciate you asking. My heart is heavy and sad.” ✧✧✧ I love Hugh.I mean, how many people do you know

May. I have patience?