Tag: michael-a-singer

Sunday Song – what if we really could write a letter to a younger self?

Posted on by Keith Dvorchik

Today’s song is “Letter to Me” by Brad Paisley from 2015.  I find it very inspirational and thoughtful as I’m sure most of us have often thought about what we might tell the 17-year-old version of ourselves if we had the ability to go back and give some advice. 

The song begins:

If I could write a letter to me and send it back in time to myself at 17
First I’d prove it’s me by saying
“Look under your bed, there’s a Skoal can and a Playboy no one else would know you hid.”

We all have said to ourselves, “If I only knew then what I know now” about something.  How would we even know it was us from the future to know to listen?  The beginning of the song is that connection point between the us of today and the us of then.  We all had things hidden, secrets we kept from others when we were teenagers.  The connection here reminds us that we are still the person we were in the past, just changed by experiences and time.  And we can connect with that person from the past anytime we want by channeling those things that meant a lot to us and we didn’t share.

I spent this past weekend with my mom, brother and sister for a family Bat Mitzvah.  As we talked about our kids and lessons they have learned or are learning, my brother brought up how he always uses me as the example to his kids.  He does this, not because I was a pillar of virtue but actually because I wasn’t.  I’m the cautionary tale because I pushed the boundaries and took silly risks and did risky things.  The me of today wouldn’t be recognized by the 17-year-old version of myself and I would need to provide some sort of ‘street cred’ to convince that 17 year old version of myself that I really was the same person, just grown up. 

We don’t have to be embarrassed by the person we were.  We can identify with them and appreciate them for who they were and grateful that we are who we are today.  We don’t have to be trapped by our past and can look forward to the present and the future. 

And then I’d say I know it’s tough
When you break up after seven months
And, yeah, I know you really liked her, and it just don’t seem fair
But all I can say is pain like that is fast and it’s rare.

It’s funny how our world view changes as we get older.  As a teenager, a month was forever.  As an adult, a month disappears so quickly it’s hard to believe.  A seven-month relationship at 17 seems like forever.  Having been married almost 26 years, seven months is the blink of an eye.  Being able to put context to time only happens with maturity.  That 17-year-old version of myself would be devastated losing a relationship after seven months.  That was an eternity.  The song reminds us of a few things.

First, life isn’t fair.  Life is life.  It comes how it comes and it is all about how we deal with the things that come.  Sometimes that means we have to deal with pain.  The good news is the pain will pass or lessen.  But it takes time.  And at 17, time isn’t something we understand.  My senior year of high school I had a relationship that ended after around 8-9 months.  I was devastated.  I thought she was the one.  We’d been together such a long time.  When I look back, I can appreciate the pain and can appreciate how time is completely relative.  And while it felt like the pain lasted a long time, it really didn’t.  It was fast.  I moved on.  I haven’t seen or talked to her in nearly 40 years.  What was so incredibly painful at 17 passed quickly, even though at the time it felt slow.  It’s critical to remember that time is precious and goes too fast.  At 17 it didn’t seem that way.  Now it seems to go far too fast.

And, oh, you got so much going for you, going right
But I know at 17 it’s hard to see past Friday night
She wasn’t right for you and still you feel like there’s a knife sticking out of your back and you’re wondering if you’ll survive it
You’ll make it through this and you’ll see you’re still around to write this letter to me

Perspective is one of those things we all need and struggle with.  The song continues by pointing out to the 17-year-old version that so much is going right yet the focus is on the one thing that isn’t.  And even though she wasn’t right for him, and he probably knew it at 17, it still hurts.  Pain is a part of life.  If we are going to live life, we are going to experience pain.  People will disappoint us.  People will leave us.  Things won’t always go the way we want them to.  Yet we move forward and get beyond the immediate hurt into a better future.

My friend and spiritual advisor, Mickey Singer, always talks about preference.  It’s preference that gets us into trouble.  We prefer something go a certain way because of our limited view.  He reminds me that things happen the way they are supposed to happen.  Our job is to get rid of preference and understand that.  It’s the short-term view vs. the long-term view.  When I look back at the life my 17-year-old self wanted and expected, mine is very different.  It’s better.  More fulfilling.  More successful in almost every way possible.  If I had stuck with what I wanted at 17, I would have shorted myself an incredible amount.

Like the song says, in the moment we may wonder if we’ll ever get through the pain but we always will if we keep moving forward.  And at some point we will be able to look back, appreciate what we went through for what it taught us and what we learned, and be incredibly grateful we are where we are and not back where we would have been.

At the stop sign at Tomlinson and 8th, I always stop completely, don’t just tap your brakes
And when you get a date with Bridget, make sure the tank is full
On second thought, forget it, hat one turns out kinda cool.

This verse makes me laugh.  It’s the older version trying to give basic advice to the younger version.  Stop completely at the stop sign.  I think back to the younger version of myself and what advice I’d give myself like this.  The girls I didn’t realize liked me and in hindsight saw they did.  The opportunities I missed that I could have taken advantage of.  The small things that my younger self would have appreciated but really don’t mean anything.  The older version realizes this when he starts saying to make sure the tank is full of gas.  That’s the adult thing to do.  The younger version ended up with a great experience and story.  Our older selves don’t always know best. 

I think about appreciating the challenges that I had growing up.  My older self could give advice that would let me avoid lots of mistakes and awkward situations.  But then I would not be the person that I am.  I would not be able to do the things I can do.  I wouldn’t have learned the lessons I did to become who I am.  So as much as the older me thinks it would be nice to save the younger version of me some pain, grief, and embarrassment, just like in the song, the realization that it really was for the best is critical. 

It’s another reminder that we aren’t in charge.  As Mickey would tell me regularly, we are here to experience life and everything that comes with it.  Each experience we have in life is a gift, even the things we don’t prefer (there is that preference again).  They shape who we are, who we will become, and how we will impact and change the world.  It gives us a chance to be grateful for every experience because even the painful ones will pass.  I am who I am today because of the experiences of my life to this point.  Why would I want a younger me to miss those experiences when it would mean I wouldn’t be who I am? 

Each and every time you have a fight, just assume you’re wrong and dad is right
And you should really thank Ms. Brinkman
She spends so much extra time, it’s like she sees a diamond underneath
And she’s polishing you ’til you shine.

This reminds me of a famous Mark Twain saying that I heard years ago.  “The older we get, the smarter my parents become.”  As a teen, I was sure that my dad didn’t get it.  He was a child of the 50s and 60s.  I was a child of the 70s and 80s.  It was a different time.  What did he know about modern times?  And yet, the older I got, the more I realized his wisdom.  The more I understood that he did know what he was talking about and the more I sought his advice.  Now that he isn’t here any longer, I miss his wisdom and advice.  I often find myself wanting to ask him for that guidance, to share his wisdom.  I’m glad that I got smarter as I got older and had a chance to learn from him.  It allows me the opportunity to imagine what he would say.  The messages that he would tell me.  It’s because I had a chance to learn from him that I can apply that knowledge to imagine what he’d say and how he’d guide me. 

The second line is the reminder to appreciate all the other teachers and influencers in our lives.  Often times we don’t appreciate those who give us that guidance as mentors, role models, friends, and teachers.  As I think back, there are many people I would like to say thank you to.  People who believed in me and encouraged me to try a little harder, show up a little more, put in that extra effort.  They saw the diamond in the rough and were willing to invest their time, energy, and effort into polishing it (me).

It also reminds me that I have that same responsibility today.  I find that there are so many amazing people out there that just need some encouragement, somebody who will invest time in them, somebody who believes in them.  I am proud of the people who I have been able to serve that role for.  One of them recently said to me:

“My time at UF was shaped by talking with you and others who taught me more than I ever would have done in a classroom.“

It’s nice to know that I have been paying it forward on behalf of those who did the same for me.  I believe it’s our responsibility to both realize and recognize those who provided that mentorship and guidance to us and to pay it forward with others.  It’s what makes the world better.  I have a number of people that I have been able to play that role for and as they achieve success and do amazing things to change the world, I know I had a small part in it.  It’s very gratifying.  If I could go back to my 17-year-old self, I would want to encourage that kid to say thank you and recognize those people.  A thank you means the world and from personal experience, just makes me want to help more people.  I wonder how many other people would be impacted if that 17 year old version of me recognized and thanked all those people who saw potential and invested in me?

Oh, you got so much going for ya, going right
But I know, at 17 it’s hard to see past Friday night
Tonight’s the bonfire rally but you’re staying home insteadBecause if you fail algebra, mom and dad’ll kill you dead
But trust me, you’ll squeak by and get a C
And you’re still around to write this letter to me

Once again, the song focuses on perspective.  The end of the week and the weekend was everything.  A week was a long time.  The events and choices we made seemed so critical, so essential.  Algebra and grades.  SAT scores.  Who to take to prom.  The things that seem so important at the time that in hindsight really weren’t.

It’s also a lesson that sometimes good enough is good enough.  It doesn’t mean we shouldn’t strive for excellence.  Nobody can be excellent in everything all the time.  Nobody can know everything about everything.  It’s simply not a realistic expectation yet as teenagers we often think it is what we need to do.  There are times when being perfect or the best isn’t what is needed.  Sometimes we just need to get by.  Sometimes success is simply accomplishing the goal, passing the class, doing what it takes. 

Expectations, often unrealistic ones, cause us much harm.  They are usually not based on fact or on what we really can accomplish.  They tend to come from other people or from societal expectations.  As we get older, we have the ability to choose to accept them or not.  As a teen, our parents, teachers, and peers have undue influence.  The song reminds us that we don’t have to accept the expectations put upon us by others.  We can choose to if we want, but it’s a choice.  We are not doomed to fail because we didn’t meet the expectations of others. 

You’ve got so much up ahead
You’ll make new friends
You should see your kids and wife

The future is bright.  We can get the things we really want.  More is ahead than behind.  These are all messages our 17-year-old self needs to hear.  The person we thought was “the one” at 17 may or may not be.  That relationship not working out doesn’t mean we’ll never be married, never have kids. 

We can look to the future with excitement no matter our age.  There is always so much ahead, even the older we get.  The length of time to experience thing may be shorter than at 17 but that doesn’t mean there are not new adventures and experiences ahead.

Life is a journey.  We make new friends.  We have new experiences.  Things continue to change in our lives.  We don’t have to worry if it will or won’t change – it will!  We don’t have to wonder if it will be good.  It may not be what we want.  It may not be what we hoped.  Iti s what is on our journey.

I love the line, “you should see your kids and wife.”  There isn’t any detail added to the statement.  It doesn’t say they are amazing or incredible.  Yet that is what is inferred.  It reminds us that we don’t need all the detail to know something is good.  And as we look towards the future, we don’t know what will be.  When we look back, we can be filed with gratitude for what we got.

And I’ll end by saying have no fear
These are nowhere near the best years of your life
I guess I’ll see you in the mirror when you’re a grown man.

We often think of times in the past as being the best years of our lives.  Especially when we are looking at times when we didn’t have significant responsibilities.  It’s also easy to think that our high school years are the best years of our life and perhaps we are wasting them. Or our college years.  Or our 20s or 30s.  The reality is that today is the best year of our life all the time.  It’s about what we do with our time, not when or where we are in life.  Our job is to seize the day.  Make the most of the day, of the time, of the life that we have rather than thinking about the life we used to have. 

P.S. go hug Aunt Rita every chance you can.

And oh, you got so much going for you going right
But I know, at 17 it’s hard to see past Friday night

I love the P.S.  This is the reminder to tell the ones we love that we love them.  To appreciate those in our lives while we still can.  I was blessed to have my Great Grandma Rose in my life into my 20s.  All four grandparents into my 20s.  Two grandfathers into my early 30s.  My dad into my mid 50s.  My mom today.  My in-laws today.  I would love to have them all today, but I also don’t have any regrets for not hugging them, telling them I love them, or spending time with them.  I took advantage of every chance I had.  One of my favorite stories about my Great Grandma Rose happened near the end of her life.  I had sent her a card just because I loved her and was thinking of her.  My Grandpa Si was visiting her and she was so excited.  She kept telling him, “I got a letter from Keith, I got a letter from Keith.”   Grandpa Si asked her, “Well what did it say?”  She responded, “I don’t know, I can’t read it.  But I got a letter from Keith.”  Just thinking about it makes me smile. 

We are all limited by time.  Don’t miss the time you have with the ones you love.  Another day is never promised.  Make sure they know how you feel about them and spend the time with them while you can.  My mom, brother, sister, and I all just spent the weekend in Chicago for a family Bat Mitzvah.  It was a wonderful time being with family and even more special to have the four of us together.  I never want to wish I had spent more time with them or told them I loved them.  That’s the lesson in this song. 

Dancing with my mom. All 3 of us took a turn.

I wish you’d study Spanish, I wish you’d take a typing class
I wish you wouldn’t worry and let it be
Hey, I’d say have a little faith and you’ll see

If I could write a letter to me

The last line of the song has a bit of irony.  It’s the little things you don’t think about as a teen that can have a long-term benefit as an adult.  Learning Spanish, a language that helps a career.  Typing to make computer use easier.  There are so many mundane choices we make as kids that seem unimportant but in hindsight we’d change.  My son took French, a great language.  Spanish would have been more helpful.  When I was in middle school we had to take Cooking, Sewing, Metal Shop, Wood shop, Drafting, and more.  I learned how to cook.  I learned how to sew.  I learned to use power tools.  I learned that I didn’t have the skills to be an architect.  Usable skills that helped me in life.  It’s sad to me that kids today don’t have those same life skills as courses in school.  It also tells us that we can still learn Spanish, typing, cooking, sewing, etc.  It’s never too late to learn the things we want.  And just because we missed an earlier window doesn’t mean we can’t revisit it in the future.

The song resonates with me because the letter ends up being something entirely different than what most of us think we would right.  It’s not a lecture nor is directions to avoid the mistakes we think we made.  It’s advice and guidance to enjoy the time in high school and all the time ahead until the age we are when we write the letter.  It’s validation and suggestions to help appreciate all that we have.  It’s a reminder that no matter how young or old we are, we have the ability to enjoy the moment for what it is and not be fixated on what we think it should be. 

My life has had ups and down.  Good times and bad.  Challenges and rewards.  When I stop, take a deep breath, and truly look at what I have in my life, it doesn’t matter what stage I am in, it’s a good life.  It’s filled with meaning.  I can appreciate my family and all the wonder in my life even when it isn’t perfect.  And I don’t have to worry, I can let it be, and have a little faith, because I will end up looking at the same self in the mirror either way.   I can choosee to enjoy the journey.

PS – Since the song has a PS, so does this blog.  My last post was about friendship and what is a friend.  One of my friends sent me this, which totally resonates with me.  In fact, many of my friends and I have basically said the same thing to each other many times.

The journey of life on that ‘Red Dirt Road’

Posted on by Keith Dvorchik

This week I had a number of songs that I was considering writing about.  One of the great things about music, and art in general, is that when you begin paying attention to it, there is inspiration all around.  I finally settled on a 2003 song by Brooks and Dunn called Red Dirt Road.  It’s a song about growing up in a small town, the lessons you learn in places that get burned into your mind and memory, and the dreams of youth compared to the realities of adulthood.  It seems like something worth digging into.

The song begins:

I was raised off of rural route three, out past where the blacktop ends.
We’d walk to church on Sunday morning and race barefoot back to Johnson’s fence.

That’s where I first saw Mary, on that roadside pickin’ blackberries.
That summer I turned the corner in my soul down that red dirt road.

We all grew up in different places, many of them with more similarities than differences.  Growing up in the 70s and 80s meant that we spent a lot of time outside, riding bikes to friends’ houses, playing in the streets, at the creek, in the woods – whatever we could discover.  It didn’t matter where you were raised, there was always a place where the blacktop ended, where there were fences to jump, fields to play in, dirt to roll around in, mud to get all over you.  And as we played outside, there was usually a spark with somebody that got you interested in being more than just friends.  That initial spark, as they sing about, turned a corner in our soul as we went from children to young adults.  And that first spark, that first love, that first interest in somebody else, likely impacted the rest of our lives as we searched for that partner to spend our lives with.

There are many of these type of moments in our lives in which that first spark is created that drives an interest we keep for the rest of our lives.  I still remember my first NY Yankees game at the Stadium in 1976.  It was electric.  There was excitement in the air.  It felt special and when the Yankees won in the bottom of the 9th I was completely hooked on baseball, the Yankees, and Yankee Stadium.  Nearly 50 years later that hasn’t changed.  I still love going to baseball games and taking my family.  My kids are big baseball fans because of the spark that I had in 1976 and the desire for them to find that same spark as they grew up. 

Yankee Stadium in 1976
Yankee stadium with Evan – I took both kids on their own trips
Yankee Stadium with Matthew on his trip. My brother Lawrence and niece Hannah joined us for one game

While neither are Yankee fans now, I had my moments when they were little

I remember the spark that turned into a career.  That first fundraising gift that I closed.  The excitement of what it was going to enable to happen.  How that would change the lives of other people.  25 years later, I still get that rush when I have the opportunity to raise money to do something that will change lives.  What it feels like to do something that changes lives.  Hearing from people the impact had on them many years later.  All coming from a spark.  Yesterday I spoke with a friend that I met nearly 25 years ago.  I have loved following his journey and am proud to have a played a small role in his life.  It was amazing to hear how much we have in common today, how that spark that was created 25 years ago has continued to grow and how we are both impacting people in different ways. 

So while Brooks and Dunn are singing about a romantic spark, they are really talking about so much more.  It’s the spark of spirts connecting beyond romance.  It’s the connections that occur when you have that organic experience.  Mary was picking blackberries.  I can think of so many other people in my life where that spark happened in other random places. 

Her daddy didn’t like me much in my shackled-up GTO
I’d sneak out in the middle of the night throw rocks at her bedroom window.
We’d turn out the headlights and drive by the moonlight
Talk about what the future might hold, down that red dirt road.

It’s never about what other people think.  Daddy didn’t like him, but it didn’t matter and didn’t stop him.  Once there is that spark and that connection, nothing stops it.  As I look at the various people in my life where that spark of connection built a lifelong relationship, it never mattered what other people thought.  It doesn’t matter about the outward differences because of that soul connection.  If I wanted to focus on the differences, I’d see people of various ages, genders, economic status, political party affiliation, religions, races, and so much more.  I have never let any of those differences interfere with that connection.

When I think of my best friends, the people who I talk with regularly, the men who I call brother, the women I call sister, it’s amazing to see the internal connection yet the external difference.  It shows that what other people think doesn’t matter.  One is an Orthodox Jew, another is Christian, yet another is almost 20 years older than me and African American and Christian, another is a gay man.  My friends are just as diverse.  Some have significant incomes, and some don’t.  Some are older, some are my age, and some are younger.  They are Jews, Muslims, Christians, Bhai, and atheist. They are my friends because of who they are on the inside, not because of who they are on the outside. The world today may tell me that we are very different, but we are not – we are connected through the soul and those differences don’t matter. 

If I were to listen to what is being said in the world today, they wouldn’t be my friends.  Just like the ‘daddy’ in the song who didn’t like him, I wouldn’t be allowed to like my friends.  I’d have to sneak around to be friends with them.  So, while the world wants us to focus on the differences, I choose to focus on the similarities.  I choose to focus on the connections I have with my friends.  I’d rather talk about the future and how our experiences can help each other get through life.  I’d rather live in a world where people are judged by who they are and how they act rather than some generic stereotype based on their religion, skin color, ethnicity, or sexual identity.  It’s a much better way to live.

It’s where I drank my first beer
It’s where I found Jesus
Where I wrecked my first car
I tore it all to pieces.

Those special places from our childhood have special meaning to us.  So much of our lives happened in those small towns, random places, with childhood friends.  There is that place we gathered to drink.  The special place to go with a date.  One of my friend’s fathers lived in an apartment and his fiancé had her own apartment.  His dad stayed at his fiancé’s apartment so that apartment became our special party place.  Nearly 40 years later we still talk about the apartment, the parties we had there, and the stories of what happened there.  The JCC in Harrisburg, PA which was a place my Jewish and non-Jewish friends would spend time.  City Island for concerts, the Susquehanna River for sailing.  There are so many special places, our red dirt roads, that will always have special meaning to me and to my childhood friends. 

These places continue throughout our lives.  There are those locations where meaningful things happened, where relationships were formed and cemented.  I moved to Gainesville in 1992 and as I made friends, those places developed.  Skeeter’s and their giant biscuits.  Our weekly group of 20 that would go to Perkins.  The weekend breakfast at 43rd Street Deli. Bill (z’l) and Rick’s (z’l) house on Monday nights for Chinese food and Northern Exposure.  So many places that are tied to powerful memories of friendship.  So many red dirt roads.


I learned the path to Heaven
Is full of sinners and believers
Learned that happiness on Earth
Ain’t just for high achievers (I learned)
I’ve come to know there’s life at both ends
Of that red dirt road.

It’s the time we spend on our own red dirt roads that teach us so much.  We build those friendships that last a lifetime.  These lessons teach us that people are people.  Throughout our life, we make mistakes and that we behave ethically.  Nobody is perfect.  The ‘path to heaven’ isn’t just for believers and doesn’t exclude sinners.  We have the ability to change and do better.  We all make mistakes.  The key question is if we learn from our mistakes.  Do we strive to improve?  Are we willing to accept the limitations and challenges put upon us or are we going to put for the effort to do better than where we began? 

The next line talks about happiness is for everybody.  It’s not just the best of the best.  We all have the right to be happy and can be happy.  The key is measuring ourselves against ourselves.  If I base my definition of success against the financial success of Bill Gates, Warren Buffet, or Jeff Bezos, I will always fall short.  I will never measure up, never be ‘successful’.  It’s fool’s gold.  But if instead, I look to measure myself against my needs, it’s a different story.  I have a place to live, and I like it.  I have a job, food, a vehicle, clothes, and the ability to do things I enjoy.  Happiness is entirely defined by the expectations I put upon myself.  I don’t have to live in the most expensive home, drive the most expensive car, have multiple vacation homes, etc. to be happy.  Happiness isn’t just for the ‘high achievers.’ 

Over the years, I have spent a lot of time talking with my ‘spiritual advisor’, Mickey Singer, about happiness.  How it’s truly self-defined.  How we choose to limit ourselves in our happiness because expectations.  Brooks and Dunn are telling us clearly that to be happy is actually easy.  It’s the difference between having what you want and wanting what you have.  As long as our basic needs of food, shelter, and clothing are met, the rest is merely a matter of perspective.

Mickey’s teachings are truly inspiring
Mickey taught me that happiness is a choice. I choice to be happy.

The last line of the verse is one of my favorites.  I’ve come to know there’s life at both ends of that red dirt road. It doesn’t matter where we have come from or where we are today.  Life exists in all places.  One isn’t better than the other.  They are different points on the journey we call life.  We may look back at the time on that red dirt road and remember ‘the good old days’, but they rarely were as good as we remember, and the times today are usually just as good if not better.  They are just different.  I think back to childhood and my red dirt roads, and they are great memories.  Far better than the actual time was. We embellish, we remember differently now than what it was then.  There are pieces we long for.  It sounds so great now to think back to when I lived in my parents’ house, and everything was taken care of for me.  I didn’t have any real bills to pay.  The stress level, in hindsight, seems like it was so much lower than as an adult with life responsibilities.  I also know that if I could go back and talk to the me of that time, that me would tell this me that the stresses I faced were real and could be overwhelming.  Pressure of college acceptance, high school cliques, living under my parents’ rules.  And that me would tell this me how lucky I am that I have my own home, set my own rules, get to pick the career I want and spend my money the way I want.  It’s all relative.

The important message for me in this section of the song is to enjoy the moment.  Each moment in our live is a unique opportunity to experience life.  When that moment is gone, so is the opportunity to experience and learn from it.  Both sides of the red dirt road are valuable and important.  One isn’t better than the other.  Life is a journey until it is over, why would we want to miss out on any of it and the opportunities that each step in that journey provide.  It’s not about being a sinner or a believer.  It’s not about the good old days or the challenges of today.  It’s about the journey of life that we get to experience and enjoy, if we choose, until it ends.

Mickey taught me this and it’s something I live by. When I read it, I can hear his voice telling it to me

I went out into the world, and I came back in
I lost Mary, oh, I got her back again
And driving home tonight, feels like I found a long-lost friend.

The song’s last verse has a haunting piece to it.  We leave our hometown.  We leave our childhood friends, lovers, families, and red dirt roads to go out into the world and experience it.  Whether it is college, the military, jobs – it’s the next step in our life journey and we leave things behind.  At some point we have the opportunity to reengage with our original red dirt roads, with our childhood friends.  It’s rarely what we thought it would be like.  Those childhood crushes that we thought and hoped would turn into something more, never did.  Our lives and theirs took different paths. Some of those childhood friends have passed away young.  Others have had serious life challenges.  Yet others have been wildly successful.  We lost the dream of the future when we were children, but we didn’t lose the people in the dreams.  It’s just different.

Bruce Springsteen’s ‘My Hometown’ captures this essence as well.

I think of my own life and some of the relationships I had with those childhood friends.  Some I thought might be forever romantic partners and they aren’t.  Some I thought would be best friends and we would be connected forever, and we aren’t.  Others have become better friends over the years or at a later time, when we reconnected, ended up being closer than we ever would have imagined. 

In the song, he lost Mary as a lover and future partner.  His life, and hers, went on different paths than they ever imagined.  Yet the opportunity to reconnect was there and they did.  It wasn’t what they thought it would be on the original red dirt road, however it’s still special. It’s still important and meaningful.

I am grateful that I still have some type of relationship with so many of the people from my red dirt roads.  They are all very different.  Some are more casual and connected mainly online.  Others we text and talk.  Still others we make time to see each other as often as possible.  The quality of the relationships is high, no matter what it was like as children or how often we get to see each other.  The time on our red dirt road bonded us in a way that can never be broken. 

At the end of the day, I think that’s what inspires me most about this song.  It’s truly about experiencing the journey of life and realizing that the connections we make with other people can last a lifetime.  But it takes effort.  If he hadn’t reached out to Mary and reconnected with her, it would have been a relationship that was inactive.  If we want the beauty of the journey of life, it takes ongoing effort, knowing that the work we put into relationships in the past isn’t wasted and isn’t gone, it just needs to be rekindled.  When I listed to Red Dirt Road, I find myself filled with gratitude for the experiences and relationships I had as a child and the opportunities to continue those relationships as an adult. 

To truly experience the journey of life, it takes effort.  And it’s effort that is always rewarded.

The voices we hear

Posted on by Keith Dvorchik

A number of years ago, when I lived in Gainesville FL, I was exposed to the idea of spending an hour with others learning about and talking about Jewish biblical stories.  Three of us began having lunch once a week while we talked about learned about the book of Daniel for months.  It was interesting, fascinating, fun, social, and a meaningful use of time.  Unlike my Hebrew School experience growing up, this had real value and I truly enjoyed it.  It’s something I have continued, on and off, for the past decade.  Over the last few months, I have found a wonderful partner to study and learn with, and we spend an hour each week focusing on the weekly parsha (the part of the Torah we read each week) and digging into what some of the great Jewish commentators throughout the generations had to say.  More importantly, we then talk about what we think it means to us.  Frequently, I challenge him and he pushes back.  We go back and forth sharing our thoughts, opinions, interpretations, until we come to some consensus about what it means for us in 2024.  It’s a wonderful hour each week that I both look forward to, thoroughly enjoy, and think about the rest of the week as I apply these lessons in my daily life.

As I’ve previously written about, recently I have been obsessed with country music, the lyrics and stories that are told, and what it means to me.  Similar to what I do weekly with my friend the Rabbi, many of the lyrics of these songs speak to lessons to improve my life.  And sometimes, the song will trigger something from my Jewish learning as well.  That’s what happened this weekend.

Once again, an old song was new to me.  Voices by Chris Young came out in 2008.  I discovered it in 2024.  The lyrics spoke to me in a different way after last week’s hour of conversation.  Here are some of the lyrics and some of my takeaways.

                  I hear voices.  I hear voices like

 My dad sayin’: ‘Work that job.  But don’t work your life away.”

When I hear that line, I think of my dad.  That work is important, however it is a means to an end, not the end.  That nobody is going to put ‘he worked very hard’ on your tombstone but they will talk about the type of person you and what you mean to other people.  The lessons he taught me about the place of work, values, and family.  I can’t count how many times he would talk to us about family and how important it is.  How it is everything.  My parents showed it in their actions.  Holidays were for extended family, and I have close relationships with my cousins because it wasn’t just about our immediate family.  My kids laugh because they say that sometimes they aren’t sure who we are really related to and who are such close friends that we call them Aunt, Uncle, Cousin, Sister, Brother.   I have aunts and uncles that really cousins.  I have aunts and uncles who are lifelong friends of my parents.  I have brothers and sisters who aren’t related to me by blood but are family by choice.  I have nieces and nephews that are really cousins.  It doesn’t matter what the blood relationship is or isn’t, what matters is the relationship that we build.  On my birthday this past year, my niece Rylee, who is 3 years old and technically a cousin by marriage once removed (we never use that language in my family) called and sang Happy Birthday to me on my voicemail.  It was the sweetest message I have gotten in years.  I called her back to say thank you and she promptly sang it again.  It was the highlight of my day.  Nothing at work will give you that feeling.  So don’t work your life away.  Its far too short and there are far too many beautiful moments you will miss.

   My adorable ‘niece’ Rylee who sang me Happy Birthday. 

And mama tellin’ me to drop cash in the offerin’ plate on Sunday

I was taught by my grandparents and my parents from a very early age the importance of Tzedakah, giving charity to help others.  We had the blue JNF box that we always put coins in, especially on Friday night before Shabbat.  Giving of our time, talent, and treasure was something my grandparents did, my parents did, and I learned to do.   It’s something I have taught my children.  We have an obligation as human beings to help those who need it.  It’s why I fell in love with the acts of random kindness. It takes nothing to hold a door, let somebody go in front of you, wait patiently, or many other acts of kindness.  When my kids and I go out for breakfast on Christmas day (usually Waffle House because they are open), I have begun to do my special Christmas day gift tip – whatever the amount of the bill is what I also tip.  The server is working on Christmas, likely because they need the money to support their family.  I’m privileged enough to not work and to be able to go out to breakfast with my kids.  It’s a small, nice thing to do that likely makes their entire day.  Random acts of kindness can change the lives of those that we do them for.  So give a little of your time, talent, and treasure to help others.  Not only will you change their lives, you will feel so much better because you are making the world a better place, one random act of kindness at a time.

One of my favorite pieces of art by Joanne Fink. A reminder of the importance of Kindness

                 

And grandad sayin’ “You can have a few, but don’t ever cross that line.”

One of my mom’s favorite sayings has been “Pigs get fed, hogs get slaughtered.”  What she was teaching us is that there is a limit to everything before bad things happen.  Unlike the famous Gordon Gecko line from Wall Street that was a calling card to my 1980s generation, ‘Greed is good’, what my mom was teaching us is that greed is NOT good.  Greed gets you in trouble.  Excess desires take you places that you don’t really want to go.  Decisions made on greed or the desire for more than you need end up with disastrous results. 

Balance is the key to life.  We hear it all the time.  ‘I don’t have any work-life balance’.   I struggle to balance my wants with my income.  Too many people don’t set aside money for retirement, balancing the need for the future with the need for now.  What good is working hard and missing out on your children growing up, on the relationship with your spouse?  Covid stole two years of time with my parents from me, time I will never get back.  Why?  Because I worked too much and too hard to get through that time.  For what?  To lose my dad in September 2022? 

My mom, dad, Evan and me at the UCF-USF game. Treasured memories worth everything

I think more about my mom’s message now than ever before.  What do I need?  And what do I really want?  The material things that drove me to want more, more, more are meaningless.  I want more time with my kids.   More time with my family.  In the summer of 2023, we almost lost our 13 year old dog Bella.  It was a miracle she survived.  I treasure the time with her now.  Where before when she would climb on my lap and I was working I would get annoyed, now I simply set the work aside and welcome this 75 lb dog into my lap. 

Bella laying on my lap – a daily occurance that I love.

Bella loves to lay out in the yard

Our sweet little girl

So as you choose what matters to you, remember to have a few but not cross that line.  Remember that pigs get fed and hogs get slaughtered.  Remember that you have control of balance in your life unless you give it away.  And remember what is really important.  It’s always possible to make more money and get more things.  There will also be something newer, something shinier, something just a little bit better than what you have.  But you can never get back time.  Time is the ultimate treasure.

Yeah I hear voices all the time.  Turns out I’m pretty dang lucky, for all that good advice. Those hard-to-find words of wisdom, holed up here in my mind  And just when I’ve lost my way, or I’ve got too many choices, I hear voices.

I am lucky.  I hear the voices of my Great Grandma Rose, my Grandma Esther and Grandpa Si, my Grandma Evie and Grandpa Lenny.  I hear the voice of my dad the most.  And of course, my mom, who is not only the voice in my mind, but on the phone and in person.  The things they taught me and powerful and core to my life.  They continue to guide me, even though most have been gone for more than 20 years. 

Grandpa Len, Grandma Evie, me, my brother, Grandma Esther, and Grandpa Si

I have written before about how I discovered studying in chavruta (two people learning together) and how meaningful it is.  For the past 4 months or so I have been learning with Rabbi Ehrenkranz.  One of the things that I often struggle with, and we regularly discuss is when it seems that God is being ‘vindictive’ or ‘petty’ in his statements.  It’s not how I envision God and I have a hard time understanding when the text says things that I interpret that way.  Last week had another instance of this, so once again we discussed and debated.  What I came to understand is that God is like our parent.  He wants the best for us and provides guidance on how to live life.  As a parent, he sets guidelines, expectations, and provides consequences.  It’s actually not that he’s being vindictive or petty, but rather caring.  The lessons he tells us can be voices we hear as well.  A voice that tells us how to choose right over wrong.  How to behave.  What to do.  Another guide when we’ve lost our way to help us get back where we need to be.  After 15 minutes of back and forth, I found this explanation to be comforting and a different way to interpret the language.

Learning with Rabbi Ehrenkranz. It’s a fun hour every week.

Whenever I have lost my way or am overwhelmed with too many choices, it is these voices that help me.  These are the lessons that I learned from them that resonate in my mind.  I can close my eyes and see and hear the person who taught me the lesson, reminding me of it once again.  I truly am lucky to have had these special people in my life who not only taught me important lessons but continue to teach me throughout my life.

I hear voices, lke my dad sayin’ “Quit that team, and you’d be a quitter for the rest of your life.”

Commitment and dedication.  Two very important concepts that have always been a part of my family and something that we were taught growing up.  Finish what you start.  Don’t start it if you aren’t going to finish it.  Have integrity.  Behave as if your words and actions will be on the front page of the NY Times. 

Reliable and Dependable.  Two more important concepts that were ingrained in me from a young age.  If you aren’t reliable and aren’t dependable, you won’t have integrity.  If you say you are going to do something, then do it.  From 1992-1995 I worked for the Florida Department of Corrections in mental health.  I worked in two different prisons.  One was minimum security, the other closed custody (maximum security) and the home of Florida’s Death Row.  I learned there to never make a promise I couldn’t deliver on.  When I said I would do something, I did it.  I earned the respect of the inmates because I didn’t promise them things that I wouldn’t do.  I learned to be very clear about making promises and commitments. 

My parents and grandparents always told me there is a right way to do things and taught and urged me to always do it that way.  Commitment, dedication, reliability, dependability, and integrity – all incredibly important and things I believe in because of the people who’s voices I hear.

And mama tellin’ me to say a prayer, every time I lay down at night.

Prayer is something I grew up with.  We went to synagogue almost every Saturday morning.  I went to Jewish Day School for a year (it wasn’t for me).  We had Shabbat dinner with kiddush and motzi every Friday night.  I went to Jewish overnight summer camp (Both Camp Ramah in the Poconos and Camp Airy).  I knew the prayers, knew the tunes, but didn’t know what it meant.  As a result, it didn’t really have much meaning to me.  I think it was summed up best by an IDF soldier on our birthright bus many years ago.  After services on Friday night, we were talking as a group and he asked, “So you know the words?”.  We answered, ‘Yes.’  Then he asked, “and you know the melodies?”  We answered, ‘Yes.’   Then he asked, “but you don’t know what it means?”  We answered, ‘yes, we don’t.’   He said, “I don’t understand!”

In college I began to explore a meaningful way to get involved with prayer.  It wasn’t easy and took a long time to find a meaningful way to pray and what to pray for.  Should I really be asking God for things?  Would he really pay attention to my prayers, especially if I was asking for things I wanted?  Didn’t he know what was best for me?  Over the past nearly 40 years, I have learned my own way to meaningfully connect with God.  It involves prayer and meditation.  It involves my own conversations with God and connecting with nature.  It involves some traditionally Jewish things like putting on tefillin (not every day but regularly).  It’s lighting the Yahrzeit candle for my father.  Similar to the lyrics of the song, I take a minute to thank God every morning and every evening for the life I get to live. 

About 20 years ago, I began exploring spirituality with a friend of mine, Mickey Singer.  Some of you may know him as Michael A. Singer, the author of The Untethered Soul and The Surrender Experiment.  I consider Mickey my spiritual advisor as he challenges me to think differently about my relationship with God.  For the past 20 years, he has nudged and encouraged me to explore my relationship with God in a different way.  If you haven’t read his books, I highly recommend them.  He also gives a few talks a week and they are posted on the website for Temple of the Universe.

Mickey Singer, my spiritual advisor and friend.

In my weekly chavruta, we discuss prayer a lot.  God doesn’t need us to pray to him, he’s God.  So why do we do it?  What’s the point?  If he doesn’t need it, why bother?  They are interesting conversations and so much of what we discuss relates to remembering who is really in charge and what is our role and responsibility.  It ties in with what Mickey has taught and teaches me.  And just like the lyrics say, it’s important to do it regularly and consistently. 

And grandma sayin’ “if you find the one, you better treat her right.”

One of my favorite stories about my Grandma Esther happened a few years before she died.  She wanted to be a great-grandmother more than anything.  So, she started bugging me about getting married and having kids so she’d be a great-grandmother.  I told her that I didn’t have to get married to make her a great grandmother.  The look on her face was priceless and one I’ll ever forget, as she quickly replied, “I can wait.”

Grandma Esther. I keep this picture on my mantle.

Both my grandfathers and my father showed me how important this is through their actions.  Grandpa Len would get up early, go to the JCC for a swim and schvitz (steam room) and then come home to have breakfast with Grandma Evie.  Every day.  Without fail.  After Grandma Evie died, I used to go visit Grandpa Len on Sundays.  We’d go to whatever organization was having their pancake breakfast, have fun and laugh, and then go back to his house and put on football.  Most of the time we would take a little snooze (nap) during the games.  I’ll never forget one day there was a boxing match on.  He told me how much he loved watching boxing but that my grandmother didn’t like it so for their entire 55+ year marriage, he chose not to watch boxing because he’d rather be with her than watch boxing.  It’s a lesson I will never forget.

Grandpa Len and Granda Evie

Grandpa Si taught me a powerful lesson as well, one that I used to tease him about sharing with my wife.  He said that early in their marriage, he and Grandma Esther figured out a great way to resolve any arguments.  When they agreed, he got his way.  When they disagreed, she got her way.  It was a powerful lesson in the importance of being happy instead of being right.  In their 55+ year marriage, they lived by that rule.  I regularly ask myself if I’d rather be happy or be right.  I have decided that I’d always rather be happy. 

Grandpa Si was always teaching me something

My parents were married for 55 years.  But they were together for a decade before they got married.  After my dad died, his sister, my Aunt Sheila, talked about how it was always “Susie and Barry”.  There is a famous story about my parents getting engaged and their cousin said, “they can’t get married!”  When asked why, she said, “Because they are related.”  My parents were a true partnership and they talked to us about it all growing up. 

My parents wedding photo

Mom and Dad

You can see how much my mom and dad loved each other

In a world where divorce is far too common, the lyrics of the song ring true.  When you find the one, you better treat them right.

Yeah I hear voices all the time.  Sometimes I try to ignore ‘em, but I thank God for ‘em.  ‘Cause they made me who I am.

There is no doubt that I am the person I am today because of the lessons from my grandparents, my parents, some aunts and uncles (both blood and those I call aunt and uncle) and my mentors.  Understand and appreciating that is so important.  As my children are now in their 20s, I hope they listen to their voices – their grandparents, their parents, their aunts and uncles and their mentors.  We get so much wisdom from those close to us and whether we know it or not, it embeds in our brains. 

I no longer try to ignore those voices.  Perhaps its from the lessons I’ve learned from Mickey about my relationship with God.  Perhaps it’s years of learning to pray and meditate in a way that is meaningful to me.  Perhaps it’s the daily meditation and focus on gratitude for the life I get to live.  I’m not really sure about the why and it doesn’t really matter.  What matters is listening to them and their wisdom.  What matters is being teachable. 

I have written a lot about my struggles since October 7th.  I’ve tried to express it in many different ways.  I recently watched the music video of the original song “OK” by John Ondrasik, known by Five for Fighting.  He’s not Jewish however this song and video is about not just October 7th but the feelings afterwards.  It expressed what I have struggled to do.  It’s a powerful video and there is a warning in the beginning.  I suggest you watch it and leave a comment on this post about your experience. 

Watch it on YouTube – it has some graphic video from October 7th in it.

The song has become another voice I hear, helping me cope with the trauma of October 7th and everything that has followed. 

I treasure the voices I hear not just for their lessons but also for who’s voices they are.  It brings this wonderful people back to life on a regular basis.  And my life is better because of their lessons that they keep teaching me.