A Guten Chodesh!
I hope you had a beautiful Shavuos! We’ve been blessed with the incredible opportunity to spend Yom Tov in Yerushalayim with our children, and we’re savoring every single minute. (Which, I admit, is a lame—but honest—reason this newsletter is so late!)
As I write from a מרפסת overlooking Ramat Eshkol, I’m soaking in the air, the sounds, the smells, and the memories. Once upon a time, we were a young couple living just around the corner in Sanhedria HaMurchevet. Now, with our last couple planning to move back to the U.S. this summer, I find myself reliving that stage—watching them navigate a whirlwind of decisions: where to live, rent or buy, which kollel, what job, which school, which playgroup, insurance, cars, doctors… It’s dizzying just to witness!
As I met our children’s friends, many of them also in that in-between stage, not sure what comes next—I listened to so many conversations about decisions in progress. And it struck me just how many decisions we each make, every day. Some big, some small. Some life-changing, some barely noticeable.
Decisions are funny things.
Some people are naturally confident in making them. Others struggle. Some overthink. Some underthink. Some freeze.
Decision paralysis happens for many reasons—fear of making the wrong choice, perfectionism, overwhelm, lack of confidence, or the pressure to please others.
But here’s some comforting news for those who find decision-making hard:
You don’t always have to make the decision.
Sometimes the decision makes itself.
We weigh our options, research, ask for advice, ruminate, even lose sleep… and then something changes.
One or more options fall away.
And we’re left with clarity—not because we decided, but because the other options quietly disappeared. They simply stopped being options: not practical, not viable, not possible anymore.
So here’s my thought:
Yes, we must go through the process; weigh the options, ask advice, think it through.
Even lose a little sleep if needed.
But sometimes, we can take a step back and allow things to unfold.
Let the pieces fall into place.
Let time do what it does best: reveal the path.
This applies to both big and small decisions.
Just recently, a mother of an 11-year-old was concerned that her daughter didn’t seem to care about her appearance. While her classmates were fixing their hair in the morning and checking the mirror, her daughter seemed indifferent, even sloppy. Without pressure or lectures, things slowly shifted. Her daughter eventually began to care—just a bit later than her peers.
Sometimes, we’re faced with a situation that we think needs fixing. Someone isn’t acting or speaking the way we wish. We wonder:
Should I say something?
Should I stay quiet?
Will speaking up make things worse?
Will silence breed resentment?
Will the problem intensify if I don’t address it?
All valid questions. And often? There are no clear answers.
But here’s a gentle reminder:
Many things resolve themselves.
Relationships evolve.
People grow.
Time reveals.
Change unfolds.
In our eagerness to fix or solve or move things along, we forget time is often the best answer.
Let’s give ourselves (and others) the gift of breathing space.
Let’s allow clarity to emerge, naturally.
Let’s wait—when we can—and trust that the right path often becomes visible on its own.
