We're told by the media reasons for devastating wildfires: global warming, drought conditions, strong winds, President Trump, not clearing away forest debris -- did I miss one?

But the Spiritual Self-Help blog brought up the idea of underground heat as a contributor (or cause) of such wildfires. Furthermore, reports of the Athens fire "chasing us all the way into the water" or "all of the sudden, flames were at the side of the car" sound more like fire from under the ground than fire from spreading above-ground -- though I don't know enough about fire tendencies to say for sure.

Doing further research, I discovered this article:
Southern California Hotspot Hits 812 Degrees, Baffles Experts

How many other hot spots like this are there that HAVEN'T been discovered?

After all, this one was only discovered "after the land got so hot that it started a brush fire and burned three acres."

Could it also be that they don't report every hot spot they discover? (After all, this one was discovered a while ago.)

Because I'm not in touch with the geological surveys of southern California, I can't say for sure. But I'm inclined to think there might be more than 1 undiscovered (or unreported) extreme hot spot in southern California.

What's going on? I'm not sure. It's just food for thought.

Unless of course, it's President Trump secretly heating hydrocarbons deep inside the Earth. Or maybe he's opening those cracks through which they're seeping out!

And even the theory about deep-seated hydrocarbons leaking out is just that: a theory.

There's no proof.

No one knows what's going on.

But perhaps such extreme hot spots should be taken into account.

Here's a gem from Rav Avigdor Miller's dvar Torah for Parshat Vayetzei:

Anyway, at the beginning of our marriage, my husband and I went to visit a rabbi (with the rabbi’s agreement) and at my husband’s prompting, I asked the rabbi directly, “What nusach should I daven?”

That question was part of the reason why we were there.

I’m Ashkenazi, my husband is Sephardi, and another rabbi told me that some poskim say the wife should take on her husband’s nusach while some say she should stick to her own familiar nusach.

So we went my husband’s rabbi to get a decisive answer.
 
And the rabbi acted like I hadn’t said anything. He just looked away and didn’t say a word -- not even a grunt.
 
I felt very embarrassed and confused. Had I said something wrong? Or was he thinking it over? Perhaps he hadn’t understood me with my heavy American accent?
 
I glanced at my husband, who also seemed taken aback, but after a long and uncomfortable silence, the rabbi started talking to my husband about something else.
 
I was really confused.

​Also, just for knowing, the rabbi would look at me directly (in a modest manner) and address me directly at other times. So it wasn't that he refused to talk to or look me in the face by custom.
 
At a pause in the conversation, I waited a moment and then politely said something like, “Excuse me, kavod harav, um…I was just interested in knowing what nusach I should daven now?”

He looked at me in an odd way, then turned away and made no response.

​So I said, “Um, the thing is I davened Ashkenazi until now, but now I’m supposed to take on Sephardi minhagim…” I faltered because he still made no reply. “So, uh, I heard that some poskim say one way and some say another and, uh, I was just wondering which nusach I should daven?”
 
He frowned and looked away from me.
 
Now, instead of feeling mildly confused or a bit taken aback like a normal person might, I felt devastated—because this is my sore spot. I’m way too oversensitive in this area.
 
At this point, my husband got up the guts to politely re-ask my question and the rav looked at him, frowned, and made this irritated motion with his hands and shoulders.
 
And my husband immediately raised his palms in surrender, “Okay, sorry, sorry! Never mind. Ah…” And my husband changed the subject.
 
When we got home, I burst into tears as I asked why the rabbi treated me so. My husband tried to make a joke out of it and quipped that apparently the rabbi wanted to rely on my husband.
 
“So why didn’t he SAY that?” I cried. "Why did he act like I don't even exist?"
 
My husband shrugged apologetically. He grew up in a traditional immigrant Moroccan neighborhood in Eretz Yisrael, where respect for people who learned Torah was sacrosanct and he couldn’t bring himself to speak about his rabbi any further.
 
To compound things (and I'm revealing this with my husband's consent), my husband’s father died very suddenly when my husband was a teenager, and he always missed the closeness they’d shared. So he instinctively sought a father figure in his rabbi.

​And this rabbi could be very warm and friendly when they learned or spoke together, and such paternal warmth is what my husband understandably craved—but the rabbi could also be irritable and sharp and prone to short bursts of frightening temper. (I saw it once and it froze me speechless—and all because his wife brought the wrong coffee. Cripes.)
 
What I didn’t know at the time was that this rabbi has a lion-like temper (which was why my husband got nervous when the rabbi got irritable and why my husband was hesitant to push the rabbi to answer the innocent—and very simple!—shaila).
 
And as I also saw several times, this rabbi can be very friendly and warm toward people, then treat them with disdain or hostility. (And he did this to me, sometimes acting like I didn’t exist as he did above, or being really nice and then with a paternal smile, plunge his verbal dagger into my nefesh.)
 
Eventually, we drifted off from him and much to his credit, my husband eventually managed to overcome the very understandable desire for some kind of father figure.
 
In other words, despite his hasmadah in learning and the tremendous intellectual knowledge he possessed, this rabbi's Torah learning remained stuck in his head only and never managed to fully flow down to his heart.

You could definitely see the influence of Torah on him, but there was still a lot missing.
 
And some people are like that.

​For whatever the reason, some people learn tremendous amounts of Torah (sort of like academics like to learn their own weighty tomes and philosophies), but such people never manage to actually INTERNALIZE the Torah they learn. (Or they only internalize a very small percentage of the vast amount of Torah they’ve learned.)
 
Of course, we’re all flawed and even someone who learns Torah for years can still exhibit flawed middot at times.

Only Hashem is perfect.
 
But this rabbi's extreme behavior exhibited itself regularly.
 
And we need to use caution when choosing a rav. Just because someone has a lot of Torah-learning in his background doesn’t mean he is a Torah personality.
 
For example, when a regular frum Jew asked Rav Avigdor Miller how to deal with a learned rabbi’s lack of derech eretz, Rav Avigdor DIDN’T say, “Gevald! Why aren’t you giving him the benefit of the doubt? Who are you, a lowly regular Yid, to judge such a big talmid chacham?!”
 
No.
​
Rav Avigdor knew that rabbis can lack derech eretz. So he recommended that the regular Jew write the rabbi a polite anonymous letter.
 
Here’s the original Q&A:

In Going Home…to Yerushalayim, a commenter asks how can we know who to listen to and who not?
 
It’s an excellent and vitally important question.
 
So first of all, it’s important to pray for this.
 
Both Rav Levi Yitzchak Bender (Words of Faith) and Rav Michel Dorfman recommended saying “Utaknenu b’aitzah tovah milfanecha” (said in Maariv and Bedtime Shema) with as much kavanah as you can regarding this issue.

So when I saw the rabbi erupt into bursts of short but very intense anger (over nonsense), I could have realized he wasn’t the real deal.
 
It was confusing at the time because in those days, there was tremendous pressure on baalei teshuvah to find a rav (any rav!) and many stories showcased how blind obedience to a rav reaped a satisfyingly happy ending.

There are also many stories showing rabbis acting oddly and later revealing profound and legitimate reasons for such behavior.

But they were tzaddikim with ruach hakodesh—which is very different than the vast majority of rabbis who most certainly do NOT possess ruach hakodesh or tzidkus. So you needn’t assume your rabbi’s unhalachic behavior is the result of profound holiness.
 
Anyway, I thought the problem was me and that if I only had enough emunat chachamim, everything would be fine.
 
(But things didn’t work out and I learned a big lesson: Intellect is NOT the same as wisdom. And we shouldn’t place our emuna on a “walking encyclopedia,” but only on a real true chacham.)
 
So it’s not easy and it takes some time, but that’s one way to go.

The following pertains specifically ​to gedolei hador, but it's still good general advice.

This is what Rav Avigdor Miller suggests in Recognizing a Gadol Hador:

• See who other gedolim are calling a gadol.
• Do great rabbanim from outside his group consider him a gadol?

​By the way, we can and certainly should respect all people for the good middot and authentic Torah knowledge they DO possess. Some people are experts on the halachos of tevilat keilim or lashon hara, but lack sensitivity or expertise in other areas.
 
We should not start gossiping about a rabbi’s—or any person’s—bad traits unless there is a halachically mandated benefit in doing so.
 
We must always find a good point in every Jew—the more good points, the merrier.
 
However, on the subject of rabbis, you don’t need FOLLOW them if they aren’t up to par.

​If their views conflict with those mentioned in STANDARD halacha and mussar, you DON’T need to follow them.
 
Yes, you treat them with same courtesy and respect as you do any human being.

But you don't need to follow them.
 
Their opinions and hashkafahs aren’t kodesh kedoshim—unless that rabbi truly embodies Torah haskafah.
 
So if they aren’t representing Torah truth (and long gray or white beards with impressive rabbinical attire and rabbinical degrees don’t AUTOMATICALLY determine their level of Torah truth), you don’t need to (and shouldn’t) follow them.

Frum media isn’t perfect either.

​Please see:
Rav Avigdor Miller on the Yeshivah & the Sane Asylum

And this connects to what’s happening in both Eretz Yisrael & Chutz L’Aretz today:
Are the Reshaim Endangering Us?​

P.S. This post started off with mentioning the problem of a sore oversensitive point. I want to continue discussing how to deal with any point of oversensitiveness. When ignored, it interferes with having a good life and good middot. So more on how to deal with that in an upcoming post…

Ahava Lange is a vibrant frum wife & mother who has been suffering from life-threatening illness for a very long time.

Her doctors in America and Eretz Yisrael basically gave her a death sentence 2 months ago and she wasn't sure she'd live to see the bar mitzvah of their only son.

Happily, Hashem brought her to life extension in an unexpected place: Istanbul, Turkey.

Incredibly, the treatments have been working, but she is still in poor physical condition and must continue flying to Turkey for the treatments.

(I can only imagine how agonizing it must be to constantly travel in such a state.)

The treatments themselves are also pretty grueling.

You can read more about the latest part of her journey here:
A Letter to You

If you can, please consider donating here:
www.gofundme.com/ahava-emunah-lange-cancer-treatment

(Other payment options are offered there if you don't want to donate via gofundme or you'd like to make it tax deductible.)

Please continue to pray that Ahava Emunah bat Chava Ehta merit a complete and speedy recovery of the nefesh and the body along with all the other Jews suffering from illness.

(H/T to Kala for bringing this important update to attention.)

UPDATE (as of 15/11/18): Here are extra tidbits on the topic:
​
Rabbi Yosef Mizrachi 
Parashat Toldot-includes current events
(from 00:28:15 to 00:32:28)

Rav Avigdor Miller on the Poor Apikores

​As many already know, tinok sheh nishba is a Jew wholly under the influence of non-Jews since the childhood.

​This Jew grows up “captive” (literally or figuratively) in a completely non-Jewish environment with no chance of learning about Judaism or fulfilling mitzvot.

Their lack of mitzvah observance grants them a status of “innocent” in Shamayim.
 
And understandably so.
 
Like many other frum Jews, I was taught that all non-religious Jews (including many formerly religious Jews) fall into the category of tinok sheh nishba.

In other words, they aren’t accountable for their transgressions because it’s not at all their fault. And as to why they don’t come back to the fold—or why they don’t even consider authentic Torah Judaism an option—well, that’s all part of the tinok sheh nishba dynamic.

(And granted, there is also tremendous anti-Torah propaganda in society today.)
 
But I started having experiences that made me question this oh-so comfortable outlook.
 
Tinok sheh nishba has more to do with a person being held accountable in the World of Truth.
 
And that’s where things get dicey.
 
Just because I want to be generous-minded doesn’t mean that my generosity holds any water in the Heavenly Beit Din.
 
Having said that, all my learning has shown me that I’m still more accountable for my sins than they are for theirs.

I’ve committed myself to Torah. I’ve read the mussar books.

Believe me, I have what to answer for!
 
But just like I need to be honest about myself and my own accountability, I always need to be honest about the terms and ideas presented in halacha and Chazal.

Circumstances showed me that the label of tinok sheh nishba isn't so simple as to mindlessly apply to every single non-frum Jew...

​Here’s a modern-day example of a genuine tinok sheh nishba:

My chassidish friend had a coworker who, upon finding out my friend was Jewish, responded, “Oh, you’re Jewish? You know, some of my relatives are also Jewish.”

“Like who?” said my friend.

“Like my mother.”

Oho!

Turns out that this person’s Jewish mother died when he was very young and his non-Jewish father married a non-Jewish woman.

Understandably, this unwitting Jewish child felt his non-Jewish stepmother as a real mother. To compound things, their area hosted very few Jews and certainly no religious Jews.
 
I think we can all agree this person fits the classic definition of a tinok sheh nishba.
 
(And just for knowing, my chassidish friend invited him to her Seder that year, where she and her husband introduced him to Judaism.)
 
But let’s go on to people considered tinok sheh nishba, and yet...

​While on a visit to America, I stopped off in New York where my aunt hosted me. Because she and my uncle don’t keep one whit of halacha, she generously stopped by a fully kosher restaurant to pick up some food for me.
 
All the guys working there were young energetic frum guys. They were bouncing around and having a great time. They related to my aunt and I with good humor and friendliness, making us feel like we were part of their gang.
 
With my aunt standing right there, I explained as inoffensively and nicely as I could that I needed the food wrapped in a way that it could go into a non-kosher oven. My aunt was feeling so comfortable that she intervened to explain that her home wasn’t kosher, but she wanted to be able to warm up food for me.

(I think she was also testing them to see how they'd respond to her open declaration of kefirah.)
 
The guys didn’t break their jolly stride.

They pulled off enormous swathes of tin foil and started wrapping my food with gusto.
 
The frum guys were so good-natured and understanding, I felt truly grateful toward them. My aunt was smiling the whole time. Even after we left, she continued smiling for the next couple of blocks.
 
It was a big kiddush Hashem (and thank you very much to all of you frummies who treat your customers with such grace and understanding wherever you are—kol hakavod on the wonderful kiddush Hashem).
 
This aunt has also met other frum Jews and they have also treated her with graciousness and open arms.

Yet she continues to sporadically attend their Reform congregation and boasts of activities like when they organized a choir to raise money for iffy environmental causes.
 
Seeing as she lived her whole life between Brooklyn and Long Island (not exactly frum-free areas) and seeing as she has encountered very nice frum Jews who even spontaneously invited her and my uncle to their home for Shabbat, does she truly fall into the category of tinok sheh nishba?

​One of my Jewish relatives is a man of great old-fashioned integrity.

His love and passion for Judaism is contagious and his favorite part of the Torah is Sefer Iyov (Book of Job). The son of very assimilated parents, he also grew up in Brooklyn and had a lot of interaction with tepid Orthodoxy.

He never would’ve married a non-Jew, but the Conservative-which-is-actually-radically-Liberal movement of Jews told him that their “conversions” are completely kosher (even though their “converts” needn’t keep the basic 10 Commandments, let alone other vital mitzvot, like taharat mishpacha, etc.).

​So he married his non-Jewish girlfriend who agreed to “convert”—which means he was living with a non-Jewish woman for most of his life and none of his children are actually Jewish.
 
In their later years, both he and his non-Jewish wife repeatedly experienced many positive interactions with fully Orthodox Jews, including Chabad shlichim.
 
During a visit, I once said to him, “I don’t mean this offensively at all and I hope you’ll take this in the spirit I mean it in…but I can’t help thinking that you would have made a really amazing and wonderful Orthodox Jew. And I mean that in the nicest, most respectful way possible.”

He quickly reassured me that he knew I meant that as a compliment and that he definitely took it that way—and that he was even honored that I thought so highly of him.

Then he mulled over his response.

Finally, he said, “I really thank you for that praise. And yeah, I think I could’ve been Orthodox, but…” He sighed and shook his head. “I’m just not knowledgeable enough to really fit in with the other Orthodox guys.”

“You could catch up!” I blurted out. After all, this guy had a degree in engineering from an Ivy League college. And he also knew Hebrew.

He shook his head. “No,” he said. “I’d rather be a knowledgeable Conservative Jew than an ignorant Orthodox Jew.”

​Aack!
 
I couldn’t believe he actually said it outright. (Also, I’d no idea he felt this way.) He was basically saying that becoming frum wouldn’t be comfortable for his ego. He was choosing his religious system based on his ego, of all things.
 
How’s that going to hold any water in Shamayim?
 
And is that tinok sheh nishba?

​I have a friend who definitely looks like tinok sheh nishba.
 
But is she?
 
The product of a completely assimilated Jewish mother and a non-Jewish father, she attended Hebrew school held at the JCC on Wednesday nights throughout her high school years. It featured an eclectic mix of teachers, including some frum teachers. One of her favorite classes was Mishna taught by an Orthodox rabbi. Her other favorite class was taught by a Chabad rabbi. (His classes were always packed—much more than anyone else’s, including any of the non-Orthodox teachers.)
 
When I became frum, I hosted her as a single woman. Once, we even spent Shabbos by a frum family in Far Rockaway. She also spent Shabbos with me and my husband in Eretz Yisrael in a charedi neighborhood with no cars or radios on Shabbat, the whole Shabbat atmosphere, etc.
 
As far as I know, not only has she met frum people, but all of her interactions with frum people have been extremely positive.
 
When I once mentioned how I always thought she was the smart one in our relationship, she looked uncomfortable and said that she always thought I was the smart one.

Flabbergasted, I pointed out that she was scoring straight top marks in honors calculus in 12th grade while I took dumb-people algebra (where they spread the algebra over 2 years rather than one) and even then, I needed to go to summer school to make up for flunking it. (Admittedly, failing beginners Algebra had more to do with lack of effort than lack of intelligence, but still.)
 
“Yeah,” she said, “but that’s not really intelligence. On the other hand, you think about things.”
 
“So do you,” I said, recalling many of our past conversations.
 
She shook her head. “No. Maybe I’ll listen to a discussion of stuff and even participate. But just on my own? I don’t really think about things. I mean, you actually pondered whether God exists and you researched it.”
 
“So did you,” I said. “I mean, you were an atheist at one point, then you decided you kind of believe in God now…”
 
“No," she said. "Atheism was just a stage because I was really into Ayn Rand at the time. But I didn’t really THINK about it.”
 
Then at one point, she said, “If someone would hold a gun to my head and say, ‘Choose any religion in the world—but you MUST choose one’—I’d choose Orthodox Judaism.”
 
“Really?” I said. “Not Reform?”
 
“No,” she said. “The only religion I’d want is specifically Orthodox Judaism.”
 
She’s married to a non-Jew and keeps absolutely nothing of Judaism. Not Yom Kippur, not Chanukah, nothing. (If she’s invited by other assimilated Jews to attend a Seder—however they do it—she’ll go, but she doesn’t do it on her own.)
 
Is she a tinok sheh nishba?
 
And are her reasons for not doing teshuvah going to hold water in the World of Truth?

​I’m not saying all this to condemn people. And I’ve davened for the above people to do teshuvah. (Although the male relative passed away a couple of years ago without ever doing teshuvah, so much for that.) And for about 20 years, I've sent them appealing Aish HaTorah videos for nearly every chag. (This is a modern twist on Rav Avigdor Miller's suggestion to send them a paid subscription to a frum newspaper.)
 
And like I wrote above, Hashem holds me more accountable than He holds them.
 
I’m just asking about as far as the definition goes—in all honesty—are the above people really tinok sheh nishba?
 
And will their excuses (ego, an unwillingness to really think about things, etc.) be accepted in the Heavenly Beit Din when the time comes?
 
And are their reasons being accepted now?
 
No offense intended, just being honest and above-board about the whole issue because people like to throw the term around (as I myself used to) and now I question whether it's correct to do so.

I know a very nice non-Jewish guy married to a woman who thinks she's Jewish, but isn't (her mother underwent a completely treif "conversion" via a Conservative-which-is-actually-Liberal "rabbi").

But the wife's parents always kept kosher.

And the non-Jewish guy, who has known them since eighth grade, developed respect for their way of life.

When he meets other Jews, he's always shocked if he sees they don't keep kosher.

And he has something to say about it.

"Hey, you're really not supposed to be eating that," he'll say to a surprised Jew. Or, "Why are you eating those together? That's not allowed."

He's not rude about it, just genuinely taken aback.

And you know what?

GOOD for him!

That's part of what any good non-Jew should be doing.

When people who aren't Jewish remind Jews of their most basic laws (NOT nitpicking about things they don't understand, but true-blue basic halacha -- like the 10 Commandments), they're actually helping themselves because when Jews do what we're supposed to be doing, everybody wins.

(Also, an errant Jew tends to find non-Jewish reproach less offensive than when it comes from a fellow Jew.)

When I first started keeping Shabbat as a teenager, the only communities available in my area was modern Orthodox (with a smattering of mainstream frummies) or Chabad.

I chose to join the modern Orthodox (which was a mistake on my part, though I didn't realize it at the time; the Chabad community was wholly frum and possessed all the positive aspects of Chabad without the problematic aspects found in some other communities and I would've been much better off had I joined them).

Anyway, I felt that one of my favorite skirts to wear to work was tsnius enough, even though I realized that it was a very lenient form of tsnius. It barely covered my knee (if that) when standing and I wore ankle socks (sporty & cute!) with it, leaving lots of bare calf.

(Note: Despite my youthful cognitive dissonance, that kind of skirt is totally forbidden by Jewish Law.)

The pretty non-Jewish woman training me was old enough to be my mother and she was a refined, soft-spoken woman whom I liked a lot.

She had a lot of respect for core Jewish values. She told me of a Jewish-Catholic couple she knew in high school, whose parents (on both sides) objected to the relationship. She spoke with admiration at how the couple broke up out of respect for their parents' wishes.

She felt it was the right thing to do, focusing more on the honoring of the parents rather than the Jewish prohibition against intermarriage.

And I felt really comfortable with her.

One day, she gently asked me about the difference between Muslim modesty and Jewish modesty. I explained what I knew at that time. Then she pointed to my exposed calves and softly questioned why this was okay and how exactly was this modest?

I was very uncomfortable, but not offended (because deep down, I knew her point was totally valid) and I stammered some kind of explanation, which out of her innate and lovely tact, she didn't argue with.

But back at home, it all got me thinking.

And I felt she had a point.

I don't think I made an immediate change (maybe I started pulling down the skirt to cover more knee or started wearing full stockings? can't remember exactly), but it did influence me to take tsnius more seriously and start getting real about what was really permitted and what wasn't.

Even without immediate change, it was a productive part of the process.

​And her questions were really good, thoughtful questions from a sincere heart.

Despite hearing so much about the dedicated, sincere Jews of Morocco, I realized that there must have been some who weren't so dedicated or sincere.

I tactfully broached the subject with my mother-in-law, who was born, raised, and married in Morocco and had her first 3 children there too.

"Yes, there were Jews who transgressed Shabbat," she said. "Just a couple of people though." Then she held up her palm and said, "But only in the house! Never on the street. Never publicly. They did it quietly."

She emphasized that they themselves had no desire to bring their chilul Shabbat to the street. She also seemed to find it bewildering that they even wanted to transgress Shabbat.

"What would happen if they'd transgress Shabbat where people could see them?" I asked.

Her eyes widened in alarm and she froze for a moment before saying, "No. They would never do that."

"What would happen?"

Her eyes still wide and her mouth making a small "o", she said, "They'd get rocks thrown at them."

Now my eyes widened. "Really?" I said. "The Jews of Morocco threw rocks at Shabbat transgressors?"

Now she looked both alarmed and confused. Then, wagging her finger back and forth, she said, "No. Not the Jews. Why the Jews? The ARABS would throw rocks at them."

I definitely don't think violence is the answer to mitzvah-transgression.

But if non-Jews want to give a friendly heads-up to a Jew who is definitely ignoring or ignorant of a very basic and obvious prohibition (like eating a ham sandwich or driving on Shabbat or dressing like an I-don't-want-to-say-what), that seems to be a beneficial thing.

(And it makes for a cute anecdote.)

A newsletter suggestion led me to a website that converts a web page to PDF to save in a computer, or to print out, or to send in an email.

If you like to print out posts to read on Shabbat or you wish to save articles in your computer or send them in emails, this site works really well for that.

I didn't even download the plugin.

Just copy the address link of the article you want to save/print/email, then go here:
https://www.printfriendly.com/

Paste the link address in the white box and press the black box that says PREVIEW.

After a few seconds, it'll take you to another page that gives you options for PDF, Print, or Email.

You also have options for page size and stuff.

*If you click on an image within your page preview, it gets deleted (which can be good or bad, depending).

*There's also a yellow band with a garbage can that allows you to delete any text covered by the yellow band with just one click. (So don't click it if you don't want that text to disappear.)

I didn't try the Print or Email options, but the PDF option worked great. I clicked that, a dialogue box opened to ask if I wanted to Save or Open, and it got saved into the correct folder.

It's really quick and easy.

Okay, hope that helps!

One of my favorite mussar rabbis, Rav Avigdor Miller, held the roles of mothers and wives in very high esteem.

While he spoke compellingly about the woman's role in the home, he also understood that most women need to invest in non-domestic activities too.

(And rather than going on about nishtaneh hateva, he seemed to feel that was a natural expression of any human being, and not just the result of being a modern woman. If you have the time and energy to do, say, chessed or visiting the sick, then why not? Same thing with other activities -- though he clearly felt that both men and women should only be involved in meaningful extraneous activities.)

So in a post called Rav Avigdor on Seeking Role Models, he focuses first on women:

​First, he describes non-domestic activities that Jewish women have always done:

Then he mentions options for the modern educated Jewish woman.

Note that he doesn't consider such activities as b'dieved, or second-rate, as in, "Nebbuch, women aren't satisfied with washing dishes and mopping floors all day, so they need other stuff to do."

No! As discussed in previous posts (The True History of Women's Work & Discover the Ancient Danger of "New!"), Jewish women with the time, skills, and resources always invested in activities outside the domestic sphere.

(Not to mention, if she could possibly hire someone else to launder, clean, cook, or take the children for a walk -- she did. She supervised everything and involved herself with everything and she CARED about her children and the running of her home. But if she could possibly afford it, she always had someone else do the physical work.)

Instead, Rav Avigdor Miller offers different options based on a woman's individuality. And he says that women who write Torah stories for children "enrich our literature."

With regard to women who write Torah stories for children, inspiring stories of secular Jews who became frum, and books that show the glory of living Torah lives: Rav Avigdor Miller calls these stories and books "a big job."

​And regarding these women writers, he notes: "There are not enough of them."

Anyone who knows about Rav Avigdor Miller knows he's far from politically correct. And he doesn't say things he doesn't truly mean. He's the product of an old-fashioned European yeshivish education that doesn't compromise.

He preaches to the choir (frum Jews) and speaks according to mussar (which most people struggle to understand & accept).

Becasue of that, it's important to focus on what he actually said.

He spoke of literature that enriches and inspires.

And as a writer myself, I think that's good guidance.

But what if you're not a writer?

So according to Rav Avigdor Miller's advice above, you need to ask yourself:

• What model is suited to YOUR nature?
• What do YOU want to accomplish?

Unwanted voices or messages in your head often originate with a person who implanted this voice or message via heartfelt yet misplaced advice.

And this is very individual and fluid.

Someone who is a good influence on one person is an ineffective or even a lousy influence on another person.

Someone who was good for you at one stage of life becomes irrelevant or even detrimental in a different stage of life.
​
We like a lot of people.
 
But there are also people we struggle to like.
 
And it doesn’t mean that the other person is really the problem. Sometimes we see that someone who irritates us within 1 minute of interaction is also the best friend or favorite mentor/teacher/confidant of someone else.
 
And it’s interesting to see how different people and their failings affect us. For example, you can really like a person and maintain closeness despite some glaring flaws. You can also realize that you need to put some healthy distance between you and someone else while still instinctively retaining a certain fondness and appreciation for that person.
 
But other people make you want to run in the opposite direction.
 
And still others plant words or ideas that you struggle to evict from your head. For some reason, a particular person’s voice tunnels into your brain—and it’s not a healthy voice. Their sneering or smirking facial expressions and tone of voice also sometimes pop into your head.
 
Yet another person might also convey nonsense and wrong ideas, but you’re able to shrug that off.
 
Maybe you think it’s because of the person’s role of influence or authority. Is the unhealthy voice coming from an older sibling? A parent or parent-in-law? A rabbi? A rebbetzin? A teacher?
 
That might have something to do with it. But think of how many voices of authority or influence you automatically ignore or dismiss.
 
No, there’s something about THIS person’s voice that’s sticking in your brain.
 
Why is that? What’s going on?

​While I can’t know all the ins and outs of it (I have a feeling it might have to do with some profound and complex soul-root stuff), I sat down with Hashem and followed some advice given by Dr. Miriam Adahan:

Do a Q&A with your dominant writing hand asking the questions and your non-dominant hand writing the answers. (The answer of the non-dominant hand—the left hand if you’re right-handed—will appear in childish scrawl.)
 
And what came up is this:

It’s as if the person whose unhealthy voice sticks in your head has a virus.

​Sometimes, these people also have powerfully positive qualities. They work on themselves & they show a lot of dedication toward Torah and mitzvot.

They also speak from the heart—and their heart isn’t always in the right place.

Sometimes it is. But not always.
 
With their heart in the wrong place, they can impose the wrong values or ideas on you.

Why?

Because words coming from the heart do indeed enter the heart.

To make things worse: When you tentatively try to question their wrongness or defend your own (and in this case, correct) attitude, they stomp you.

They often do so subtlety, like with a smile, a laugh, a good-natured punch-down, an oh-so innocently baffled approach designed to make you feel like your view has no validity whatsoever, “proof” from their own experience (even though we’re not clones and their experience doesn’t nullify yours), a misunderstood source from Chazal or Tanach, etc.

This is because in their heart, they are convinced that you are flawed in THIS particular way.
 
You might even feel like they’re hooking their claws into you and not letting you go.

But in addition to heart-to-heart criticism, there's another reason why some viral messages just won't let you go.

In Words of Faith Vol II pg. 73, Rav Levi Yitzchak Bender states:

​(I assume the original word translated as “coupling” is “l’hizdaveg.” Also, Rav Bender brings proof from Beresheit 3:13 that Chava said that the Snake "hishiani"—tricked/enticed me—which is similar to "hisiani": he married me.)
 
Rav Bender uses this to emphasize the importance of only consulting with tzaddikim (which you can also do through their books and with the Greatest Tzaddik of all: Hakadosh Baruch Hu).
 
Perhaps this is why criticism can be so devastating. It’s a form of advice that, if given improperly (either too harshly or confusing or it’s just plain wrong), harms the other person.

And it's like creating a zivug with that person -- based on criticism and negativity.

It's all wrong.

Finally, it's worth noting that ya'atznu ra or ya'atznu aitzot ra'ot (we advised evil or we have given bad advice) is one of the transgressions listed in Judaism's official Vidui/Confession. Of all the sins that begin with the 10th letter yud, ya'atznu ra/ya'atznu aitzot ra'ot was chosen.

That's pretty significant, eh?
 
But getting back to the virus analogy: How does a viral infection work in the world of microbiology?

​Let’s say, you have a perfectly wonderful person. Ordinarily, there’s no problem spending time with that person. On the contrary, it’s actually GOOD to be with that person.
 
But what if he or she has a virus?
 
And what if you possess a susceptibility to that virus?
 
You’re going to benefit from certain aspects of your relationship with that person—but you’ll also get infected by that person.
 
So you come away from the encounter, maybe even feeling good—but you’re also carrying a new bug (and its accompanying symptoms) that you just can’t shake. So you end up feeling bad too.
 
Interestingly, this doesn’t occur with ALL people.
 
Some people infect you with their wonkiness, and some people don’t.
 
We all have flaws, but we clearly don’t experience everyone else’s flaws as a virus—like a parasite that gets into our brain and doesn’t leave easily.

It's important to realize that the viral voice does not necessarily indicate an awful person. Maybe it does. Or maybe the voice actually belongs to a very good person, but is simply not the right shaliach for you in the place you're holding now.
 
So this is a pretty individual issue.
 
And what can you do?

​Here are some ideas:

Yes, this person has such fabulous qualities!

Avoid demonizing them (unless they really are demonic).

​Tell Hashem what’s good about this person.

​(Noting a person’s good points can secretly bring them to teshuvah.)

But at the same time, recognize that just like a wonderful person infected with a virus, you need to strengthen your own immunity and maintain enough distance so as not to get infected yourself (or not to continue getting infected).
 
Until when?
 
Until you either develop immunity or their "virus" disappears.
 
This includes contact that is only oral or written.

Does the person give shiurim? Call you on the phone or leave messages? Does he or she write articles or poems? Emails? Facebook posts? Tweets?
 
Needless to say, it’s not always possible to do this. Maybe the person lives or works with you. That’s also from Hashem, a nisayon you need to face in order to refine your soul. So you do what you can, knowing that Hashem is in control and guiding you along this particular path.

As you're clearing a healthy space for yourself, you also need to figure out why davka THIS person’s unhealthy voice and THOSE particular words or wrong ideas got so entrenched in your head.
 
Maybe you’ve done/do it to others. (No, this doesn’t mean you’re horrible, For example, maybe you’re really wonderful and generally a great influence on others, but there is one person or maybe a certain type of person that you’ve impacted in a less-than-ideal manner.)
 
Or maybe you secretly think this way about yourself.

​(This is a VERY big reason why the message stays in your head. Rationally, you might know that person’s message for you is all wrong. But subconsciously? What’s really going on? So this should really be explored more deeply.)
 
It’s definitely worth mulling it over with Hashem.
 
You can talk it out, do a freewrite or a mind-map.
 
But there’s a reason why davka this person’s voice and messages are stuck in your brain.
 
And it’s helpful to figure that out.

Tell Hashem you only want HIS Voice and HIS Messages inside you head.

You want His Truth and nothing less.

​This is a beautiful thing to ask for and gives Hashem a lot of nachas.

To sum it all up:

Viral voices develop from:

• Unknowable soul-tikkun issues
• Criticism or condemnation given from the heart
• The effect of zivug that naturally forms upon receiving advice

How to deal with viral voices:

• Treat them like a virus.
• Acknowledge the adviser’s good points.
• Don’t demonize the adviser (unless he or she really is mostly bad—and some people are).
• Maintain your distance (if possible) until the “virus” clears up. (This includes written & oral contact.)
• Via writing and/or talking it out, figure out the deep-seated reason why davka THIS person’s voice has infected your brain.
• Ask Hashem for help.

They're almost finished counting up the votes from the city elections in Eretz Yisrael. Smaller cities have finished the counts while larger cities, especially with soldiers voting outside their cities on faraway bases, are still raking in the final votes.

One of the cities I was most concerned about was Jerusalem, and it's going for Round 2 between 2 candidates, so we'll see how that goes.

But an election revolution that brings a lot of joy is the replacement of Haifa's incumbent mayor by Einat Kalish-Rotem. The other mayor was a real hater. Einat Kalish-Rotem earned the heartfelt support of Haifa's religious population -- and won by a landslide.

(This comes around a year after Rav Chaim Kanievsky termed the former mayor "a rasha" and wished for his downfall.)

Hopefully, this is finally closing the chapter on what was once Rabidly Red Haifa.

But it's not over yet. Kalish-Rotem is not Torah-observant and she's a member of Labor, which is a Leftist party.

​So we'll see how it goes.

I wish Haifa's new mayor a lot of bracha and hatzlacha. May Hashem grant her the wisdom and insight to govern in a way that truly benefits Am Yisrael.

Here is an uplifting video of a chareidi center in Haifa as the results were being announced.

​www.kikar.co.il/295206.html

The rejoicing over the victory of Einat Kalish-Rotem explodes around the 20-second mark of the video when the speaker announces that the hater-mayor only received 30% of the vote. It's followed by dancing in the streets.