#thecreativepause - with writer & rebbetzin Avital Chizhik-Goldschmidt on NYC's Upper East Side

And a night out with Ann Patchett on the Upper West

Anticipating the joy of reading in the sukkah <3

There was a time when stepping off a NJ Transit train at New York’s Penn Station left me breathless in the best of all possible ways. There was “The City,” which meant Manhattan, filled with culture and wonder and serendipity, and there was the rest of the world. Only Jerusalem, the holiest place on earth, surpassed it in my heart’s geographic pecking order.

And yet, I’ve not traveled into New York much over the past few years. I began working from home back in 2004 before it was what all the cool kids did. During Covid, I hardly left the house at all. Before I knew it, my trips to The City tapered off to rare outings — to meet a friend visiting from out of town or to help my son move into a new apartment. At some point, even if I didn’t quite love the suburbs, I stopped pining for the Big Apple.

But when my friend Aliza called to say, “Let’s go see Ann Patchett. She’s speaking at Symphony Space on the Upper West Side,” I nearly shouted into the phone, “Yes!” No matter that the event was on a Thursday night, which I usually keep open for Shabbos prep. If author Ann Patchett was on a book tour for her new novel Tom Lake and I had this chance, I’d bake challah on Friday morning instead. So off we went, Aliza and I, driving gleefully over the George Washington Bridge like the two awestruck, book nerds we are.

Ann — Okay, we’re not on a first-name basis, but how many times can I keep saying Patchett? — was as smart and witty off the page as she is on. She shared writerly anecdotes, name-dropped up a storm (she’s friends with everyone), and offered insights into her creative process. It was a wonderful literary evening. And my G-d, it felt so good to be in velvet seats at a theater.

By the time we headed home, the sky was dark and New York was aglow in its nighttime finery. I’d fallen in love with The City all over again.

More on writing - with Avital Chizhik-Goldschmidt

The writer & rebbetzin is transforming Jewish life on Manhattan’s Upper East Side with her groundbreaking Orthodox shul community, The Altneu, which she founded with her husband Rabbi Benjamin Goldschmidt in 2022. Avital and I chatted about creativity and spirituality for this month’s #thecreativepause here on Days of Rest.

M: You have a wonderfully full plate. How do you find moments to create?

A: We become writers because we understand this is what we are meant to do. It’s our tafkid, our purpose. So I make it happen, using my limited time to work on projects that fulfill what I think Hashem wants from me in this life.

M: Where do your roles as writer and rebbetzin intersect?

A: In the sacred act of story collecting. Both roles require empathy. I feel I have become, in a way, a receptacle for the secret pains and struggles of the vulnerable.

M: Beautiful, holy work.

M: The past few years were a challenging period in your journalism career.  Can you talk about that?

A: I used to dash off op-eds and social media posts that tackled entrenched issues within the Orthodox community, like the agunah crisis, public health, and abuse. While the feedback was mostly validating, I also faced bitter criticism within our community (I was branded a heretic!), all at a cost to my mental health.

At some point, I realized that I’d screamed for a decade and the issues had still not been solved, and that perhaps there were other ways of creating change. We often get too deeply steeped in online life, believing it’s real. But it isn’t. It is only an enticing illusion, one which deceives us into thinking that a post will cure deep rot and corruption. It’s a start, but it’s not enough to change minds en masse and force a new way.

M: How did exposure fatigue change you as a writer?

A: I ask myself if it’s a story I am uniquely positioned to tell, and I approach my subjects in new, creative ways that don’t feed the ugly beast of the internet.

M: The Altneu strikes me as the writing of a story you are uniquely positioned to tell.

A: It’s funny. For ages, I preached with my pen about the need for a new kind of leadership. And then Hashem threw me into this position of female religious leader working to build a shul community rooted in authentic spiritual experiences.

Especially post-Covid, nothing feels more genuine than in-person contact. I do a lot of public speaking in my current role. People show up for it, crave it now. When I frame a parsha shiur around a discussion of materialism, for example, a topic I often wrote about, we can have conversations that hold room for respect, honesty, and nuance that an online discussion would never allow for.

M: Describe the creative vision behind The Altneu shul experience.

A: We are about community, spiritual focus, and G-d, and our creative vision is that our physical spaces – wherever we gather, daven, learn, and celebrate – will reflect that. Our goal is to strike the right balance. We want The Altneu experience to be charming, warm, elegant, understated.

M: How do you model for your children the idea of godliness in creativity and the importance of listening to your own voice?

A: We spend a lot of time in the library, at museums, the ballet, and the symphony. I want them to have creative experiences because there is no contradiction between art and observant Judaism. Rather, art can enhance our spirituality in deep ways. It’s not complicated for them to grasp because it’s all they know. As for teaching them to listen to their own voice, my children see me writing. They know this is who I am.

You can follow Avital on Instagram and on her website.

#Thecreativepause here on Days of Rest explores both the multilayered experience of being a religiously observant creative and the sacred nature of art and craft. Please reach out if there’s someone you’d like me to feature in this space.

Numbers Matter

If you are reading this and have not yet subscribed to Days of Rest, please follow the link within the newsletter to sign up. I’d love to have you join this community. And it would be a big kindness to me. Numbers help a writer out more than you can imagine. Thank you so much. <3

*

Wishing you a Chag Sameach — a beautiful, meaning Sukkos!

Love,

Merri