A Letter

Beloved,

Let me tell you something I often say when counseling those mourning the loss of a loved one.

“Unless you are a rabbi or minister, you shouldn’t be good at writing eulogies.”

And then I add: “Let me give you a pro tip—think about writing a letter. Because you know how to write a letter and this way you don’t have to stare at a blank page not knowing how to start.”

They usually grasp the idea instantly and are then able to start writing.

✧✧✧

I just did something similar in the writing of this article.

I didn’t know what to write today’s article about and found myself staring at a blank page.

Stuck.

So, to get myself started, I began by writing a letter.

And it worked!

I figured out what you are about to read below.

✧✧✧

Human spoken language is estimated to be tens of thousands of years old—likely over 100,000—while written language is only about 5,000 years old.

Written language is a game changer—enabling us literate humans to communicate thoughts to the future.

Which is amazing!

But what of it?

Depends on what we wish to communicate.

✧✧✧

Imagine you can write a note to future generations.

What would you want to convey?

✧✧✧

Me? Here is mine:

Beloved,

Lean into love.

See if you can love more today than yesterday.

Love yourself. Love others. Love more.

Stop rushing.

Slow down.

Be kind.

✧✧✧

What not-perfectly-polished message would you send?

(You might start it as a letter so you don’t stare at a blank page.)

✧✧✧

Rabbi Brian Doesn’t Understand

August 10, 2026 No Comments

Shoes.Shoes.Shoes. The long glass wall separates me from a display of more than 100,000 shoes at Auschwitz-Birkenau. Men’s shoes and women’s shoes and children’s shoes and baby shoes. Everyday shoes and work shoes and formal shoes and boots and sandals and slippers and high-heeled shoes and orthopedic shoes. Woven sandals and wooden-soled shoes and leather shoes and cloth shoes. Shoes

Last Tuesday / This Tuesday

June 30, 2026

Last Tuesday. I’m sitting in an Adirondack chair, my feet resting on a well-weathered log here in Sisters, Oregon. It’s my family’s annual week-long vacation at the same beautiful house we’ve rented for the past four summers. My favorite spot. Just above the little creek. Most of my worries are 153 miles away. ✧✧✧ This Tuesday. I’m sitting in my

Five More Wisdom Biscuits

June 11, 2026

1. I know garbage “You should put the garbage bins back where they were before you remodelled,” I tell the managers of the Grant High School construction project when they host a neighborhood forum. “Funny thing, that,” the lady in charge says, “It’s a bit counterintuitive.” She explains something city planners learned about beaches. “If there is a garbage