Yom Kippur 5774

As president of my synagogue (this is the last year) I have the honor of addressing the congregation on Kol Nidre. Here is what I said a few weeks ago. Thanks for reading it. 

You stand this day, all of you, before your God, your tribal heads, your elders, your officials, all the men of Israel, your children, your wives, even the stranger within your camp…to enter into the covenant…I have put before you life and death, blessing and curse. Choose life so that you and your offspring will live.”

These are the words from the Torah that we will read tomorrow morning, and while I am not one to play favorites, they are some of the most powerful and thought-provoking in our text.

Imagine you were there--because, according to our teachings, you were. Picture yourself standing in the large crowd of Israelites that Moses has gathered together. As he recounts all that you have been through in your wanderings, the montage is playing in your mind like a Hollywood film: the Exodus, revelation at Sinai, the golden calf, building the ark, wars and famine. Through it all, you have observed the commandments, and your tribe has grown in number.

You have followed Moses on this truly awesome journey—from the outset, your destination was decreed, even though the path, at times, was unclear. And now, here you are, about to realize your destiny, all that has been promised to you and at the climactic moment, you are being asked one more time "are you sure?"

While some may refer to the Jews as the chosen people, this portion of the Torah reminds us that it is really we who must do the choosing. God may have brought us out of Egypt, rescued us from bondage, and redeemed us, but the ultimate promise of becoming God's people could not be fulfilled unless we were willing participants.  Even after all that transpired, the Israelites could not truly become the Jewish people unless they chose to do so.

Being Jewish, being part of a community, finding a way to make life more meaningful, more spiritual, more connected to ancestors or to God--these are all active decisions.  Moreover, an individual’s actions and decisions are not isolated to that single person: “Choose life so that you and your offspring can live."

Your choices are not only the essence of your personal Judaism, they are critical to preserving and building the future of Judaism for generations to come.

Of course, it is not always so deliberate. When my parents dragged me and my sister to synagogue every Friday night when we were children, I don’t think they did it in the hopes of creating a future synagogue president or a Jewish educator. But they did want us to share their belief system and values, and to develop a framework on which we could build our lives.  As I grew up, I learned that Judaism and synagogue life were more than ritual and study. They were faith, a moral compass and community that not only supported my family in our dark hours or rejoiced with us in celebration, but served as a regular part of our daily lives.

And so my husband and I chose this life for our children as well, hoping they will be feel comforted by God’s presence, secure in their convictions, strong from their community, wise from helping those around them. We want them to come to know their place in this chain and to understand that the choices they make are not just about the here and now, but will have ramifications for generations to come.

When I think about all that our ancestors—both those from 5000 years ago and those from 50 years ago—went through and fought for  just to have the privilege of choosing Judaism, I find it interesting, ironic and perhaps a bit frustrating, that today, there seems to be a great deal of discussion about how we need to make it much easier to be Jewish. According to many in our community, even synagogues like Rodeph Sholom--known for its diversity, openness and eagerness to welcome a wide range of observers--make it far too difficult for people to lead Jewish lives. We impose restrictions that ask too much of anyone. For example, we assume that people might actually want to be here. We want them to want to be members of a warm caring community. We try to preserve the tradition of communal study and prayer. We even ask children to attend classes, learn Hebrew, Jewish history and Torah. We simply refuse to give up so many of the traditions that have sustained us for thousands of years.

Of course Rodeph Sholom, like all our institutions, must respond to changing demographics, technological innovation and other societal forces. But the texts, rituals and practices that have sustained us for thousands of years must continue to be our guide. If each generation takes away a little bit of ritual, a little bit of knowledge, a little bit of obligation, on what will the next generation stand? And the next? Eventually, our choices will narrow the options of the future. 

And so, I am grateful to all of you. Your presence—your choice to come here tonight--is a fulfillment of the covenant made so many thousands of years ago. You have selected a life of learning, of ritual, of community service. By opting to be a part of this congregation, you have created the opportunity for others to do the same. Your commitment will preserve Rodeph Sholom for generations to come. You have chosen life so that our children can live.

We at Rodeph Sholom know these are not easy choices to make. People have limited time and resources. Demographics are shifting, for many the economy is still uncertain and the public debate is loud, challenging and at times discouraging.   

But we see tremendous opportunity and potential. Since 1842, our dedication to Jewish life filled with prayer, study and community service has been unwavering. We are proud to demonstrate how powerful, how fulfilling, how exciting Jewish life can and should be.

While there are communities in which ritual feels stagnant and routine, Rodeph Sholom chooses to offer 5 different prayer options most Shabbat mornings, an array of holiday observances, services for families with members with special needs, at least 2 seders, a weekly minyan and many other ways to engage in prayer.

While there are communities that are scaling back their educational offerings and requirements, Rodeph Sholom has chosen to develop innovative and challenging Judaic curricula for our children, offer diverse youth programming, provide stimulating adult education classes, and give unmatched learning opportunities with our clergy and scholars.

While there are places that must be focused on their own needs, Rodeph Sholom will continue to serve its community with programs like Mitzvah Day, our food drive, a homeless shelter, One Voice to Save Choice, and Backpack Buddies, a new program that will provide food to children at a local school on a weekly basis.

And while there are communities in which members do not feel connected, Rodeph Sholom will continue to offer a book club, mah johng, trips to Israel, community theater, lunch programs, and other social events.

And, most importantly, while there are communities struggling or others that seek to restrict members, Rodeph Sholom is honored and proud to be able to keep its most sacred promise of offering membership to all who seek it—regardless of their financial situation.

None of these programs—or the hundreds more that take place here each year--would be possible without your time, commitment and your generous financial support. It is because of your choices that we are able to be the diverse, open, welcoming congregation that our ancestors foresaw.

Everyone who desires it can be included in this promise—all who chose to can have access to this sacred vow. As we will read tomorrow:

“I make this covenant with its sanctions, not with you alone, but both with those who are standing here with us this day and with those who are not with us here this day.”

Thousands of years ago, we stood shoulder to shoulder as one community with all the Jews that were and all that were yet to be.

The power of this text, this holiday, this promise, goes beyond tonight and beyond all of us who are here right now; it started long ago and will reach far into the future.

In these final hours of repentance, reflection and preparation, remember that the choices we make and the actions we take must sustain our remarkable heritage for generations and must create a robust foundation and vibrant future for all who come after us.  

On behalf of the entire congregation, thank you for your support, participation and generosity. I am so very honored to have had this role in our community.

My family joins me in wishing you a g’mar tov and 5774 blessed with hope, happiness, health and peace. Shana tovah. 

Yom Kippur 5773

As president of my synagogue, I have the honor of addressing the congregation each year on Kol Nidre. It gives me an opportunity to speak about community, synagogue life and the future of Judaism--all things about which I care passionately. Here is the speech I gave this year.

A father in Florida calls his grown son in New Jersey. “David,” he says, “I am going to ask your mother for a divorce.”

The son is shocked, “After 55 years? We just saw you a few months ago and everything seemed fine."  

“It’s something I need to do,” the father says. “First thing tomorrow, I am calling my lawyer.”

“Look,” the son replies, “If you haven’t done anything yet, it’s not too late. It’s almost Rosh HaShanah. I’ll come down there and we can talk. Just wait until I get there.”

The father agrees. David calls his sister Judy who lives in the neighboring town and delivers the news. The siblings make last minute plans to take their families to Florida and stage an intervention. 

Judy calls her father that evening. “Daddy,” she says, emotion in her voice. "David called me. What's going on? Please, give this some time and think it through. David and I are coming for the holiday. We’ll sit down, discuss the situation and work it out before it’s too late.” 

The father hangs up the phone. He turns to his wife and says, “Okay,I got them here for Rosh HaShanah, but you are going to have to come up with something really good for Passover.

There is something inherently Jewish about this joke. It's not just the holidays—I could have easily substituted Easter and Christmas for Passover and Rosh Hashanah. But the underlying theme—the message to create space in our lives for what is important—is the very foundation on which our religion is built.

The first lesson in our Torah instructs us to take one day a week away from work to focus on what is truly important—our blessings, our families, ourselves, and God.

Despite this suggestion, for many of us, it is often easier to make time for emergencies than it is for joys or celebrations.  It’s not that we don’t appreciate life’s pleasures, but we get caught up in our obligations—which are real and do require attention. We fall into the habit of merely trying to avoid the negative.

Not too long ago, a significant portion of American Jewish identity was defined in reaction to the Holocaust. Being Jewish was often more about denial and defiance than it was about spirituality and community. After facing a very real, modern day threat of annihilation, Jews were forced to confront blatant, and latent, anti-Semitism.

As a result, American Jews began demanding equalities that had been denied. Fear translated into action and engagement, and as Judaism became more openly accepted, unparalleled levels of opportunity and Jewish engagement emerged.

While most agree that we are still in that period, articles in Jewish journals are often gloomy about the future. With fewer than 14 million Jews worldwide—and a growth rate half that of the general population—many predict that the end of this Jewish Renaissance period is near.

I do not agree that we are approaching an end. And, I am not certain these doomsayers believe it either. Perhaps they are trying to get us to act, to participate in a bigger conversation.

By playing on our worst fears, our Jewish pundits want to inspire us to prove them wrong. Tell people that without their commitment to synagogues, to ritual, to communal life, the Jewish religion will die and they will be forced to take action.

After all, fear works. Stores advertise limited quantities because consumers react to scarcity. It’s instinct to rush to a bedside of a gravely ill relative, even if we visited less frequently when that person was healthy.  A synagogue may find it relatively easy to raise money to rebuild after a tragedy, but may struggle to fund an expansion to serve a growing population.

Now, I am the last person to discourage any kind of Jewish engagement. The result of widespread, long-lasting indifference would be catastrophic and is unacceptable.

I am stating that we need a better approach. A fear based marketing tactic is nearly impossible to sustain and can leave us emotionally wanting. More importantly, it is the antithesis of our heritage. While Judaism gives us tools to deal with crisis, our texts and customs do not prescribe a crisis-based religion.

Judaism is about taking action, about partnering with community and God to create a meaningful future. Despite comedic stereotypes of guilt and gloom, Judaism is weighted far more toward optimism and opportunity than toward fear and punishment. Our path was never meant to be defined by proving naysayers wrong, but by envisioning, embracing and ensuring our potential.

We must lead with that promise, embrace and celebrate Judaism’s rich history, meaningful rituals, and emphasis on community and ethics that offer a compelling way of life for each to interpret, shape and make our own. We are in the middle of a fantastic journey that began thousands of years ago and is guiding us to a future filled with possibility and hope.

This future is created every day here at Rodeph Sholom. Our programs, activities and accomplishments should fill all of us with optimism and excitement.

In the past year, more than 1740 families were members of our congregation. Nearly 400 people studied in adult education classes. 103 children became b’nai mitzvah.  Almost 800 individuals served our community on Mitzvah Day. Our monthly Shabbat b’Shir services were overflowing and on many Saturday mornings we offered 5 different Shabbat experiences. We sent nearly 50 students to Israel on various programs, in addition to two family trips that were filled to capacity and a Jewish heritage tour of Spain.

This year, our community is showing every sign that it will continue to grow with an increased number of new members,all of whom, thanks to your generosity, we are able to welcome, no matter what their financial situation.

We are re-invigorating our already thriving community service programs. We will, once again I’m sure, tomorrow collect record amounts of much needed food to donate to local food banks. Our ritual experiences for New York’s special needs population, including last week’s Rosh Hashanah service, are rapidly expanding.  Tomorrow afternoon, those praying in the Schafler will test a new High Holy Day prayer book, serving as pilot site for the national Reform Jewish community. And again this year, more than 100 children from Rodeph Sholom will become b'nai mitzvah.

We at Rodeph Sholom are not reacting to fear. We are running to the future with arms open wide. Our vision is clear, our goals are simple:

Create ritual, impart knowledge, build community and inspire righteous deeds.  

This is our offer, OUR marketing message, and this is the foundation that will attract, sustain and nourish generations to come.

To those who predict the end of synagogue life, who bemoan the diminished commitment of children to study ancient texts, who mourn the loss of community engagement, I invite you to come here. To pray, study and serve with Rodeph Sholom is to experience the true potential of Jewish communal life.  No one should settle for anything less.

Of course, there is more to do. We can always improve -- and I will ask for your assistance in doing so. We would like to reach more people through service opportunities. Our programs to connect with the unaffiliated will continue. Our efforts to create meaningful prayer experiences for different segments of our community will increase. And our plans to better engage our youth, literally our future, will grow with enhanced offerings and, soon, we hope, with improved physical space for programming.

When I consider the possibilities, I am filled with eagerness, and hope that you are too. With your ongoing commitment, we will engage people through excitement and anticipation, not fear and obligation. We will offer compelling ritual, study and service opportunities. And we will continue to educate, nurture and inspire the children who will sustain and expand our heritage. It will be a wonderful, sacred journey and I look forward to taking it with you.

Thank you for your support, participation and generosity. I am honored to have this role in our community.

My family joins me in wishing you a g'mar tov and a 5773 blessed with hope, happiness, health and peace. Shanah tovah.

Israel’s Hidden Crisis

The teacher stands in front of the sparse classroom. The walls are bare, the paint peeling -- “this school looks like a prison,” one of my fellow travelers whispers. Many of the children are huddled in coats; schools in this neighborhood do not have heat and the unexpected rain and cool air chill the room.

Overcrowded classrooms, minimal instruction hours in core subjects and a shortage of qualified teachers have taken a toll on the country’s education system. These children must study in an NGO-funded afterschool program to gain the basic academic foundation they need to break the cycle of poverty.

One might think I am describing a Third World country, but this scene took place a few weeks ago in Israel. A country that leads the world in patents per capita, is known for its technology startups and boasts 10 Nobel laureates, Israel also leads the world in some other frightening statistics.

On the most recent PISA (Programme for International Student Assessment) Exam, Israeli students ranked 25th out of students from 25 Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development counties in academic achievements. Israel’s weakest students scored below the weakest students from all other participating OECD countries, and Israel’s strongest studentsscored 24th out of 25 countries tested.

The children are products of an education system that has been in decline for decades. Studies by many leading organizations, including Israel’s own Taub Center, reveal the link between a country’s educational achievement and its economic stability. As Israel's education levels have decreased, wages have declined and quality of life has dropped.

Israel will likely wrestle with the ramifications of having at least one generation of under-educated children who are ill suited to compete in the today’s world. If trends continues, wages will continue to drop, leaving more people under- or unemployed and increasingly reliant on the government for existence. What kind of picture does that paint for Israel’s future?

To be sure, education is just one of Israel’s pressing societal issues. Last summer, Israelis demanded access to more affordable housing, medical care and other basic necessities. In addition to the need for social infrastructure, outside pressures are also very real. Just a few weeks ago, approximately 200,000 children in southern Israel could not even attend school because of missile attacks from Gaza.

The answer to Israel’s education woes is not simple, but here are just a few steps Israel could consider to move in the right direction:

Put more emphasis and resources on the core subjects critical for participation in a global economy.
Recently, I have been hearing demands for increased emphasis on Jewish studies or Zionist history in the public school curriculum. I am not commenting on the importance of these subjects. I am merely stating that Israeli children will need to excel in math, science and literacy to succeed in a global workforce. Those core subjects need to get the attention first.

Improve training, support and pay for teachers
Israeli teachers are woefully underpaid when compared to their OECD peers. They also receive less training and professional development. Give lsraeli teachers the tools, training and mentoring they need to improve classroom outcomes.

Raise the standards for becoming a teacher
If the government gives more, it should get more in return. Most Israeli teachers graduate from one of many 3-year teacher colleges; the range of requirements and quality varies greatly among these schools. Teachers are not required to have a 4 year-university degree, let alone a Masters or other advanced degree. Require the academic excellence of the teachers we want from the children.

Reach the children who have been “left behind”
Systemic change takes time. Meanwhile, a whole generation of children remains ill-equipped to handle the complexities of today’s workforce. Get them the programs they need to catch up and to maximize their academic achievement. It may feel like a band-aid approach, but we can’t let communities bleed to death.

These are just four steps—there are many others to consider and the challenge can seem overwhelming. However, as the sense of urgency surrounding this crisis continues to grow, I am confident that a partnership of government, NGOs and philanthropists can create the long term solution that will enable Israel to not just survive, but thrive.

(note, this piece was originally published on March 29 on JTA.org )

What Does IBM know that Federations Don’t?

In the Jewish world, emphasis is placed on Tikkun Olam –repairing injustices. Our texts speak of being equal in the eyes of God. And yet, female CEOs earn only 62 cents for every dollar earned by their male counterparts.

The latest salary survey published by The Jewish Daily Forward shows that the Jewish communal world continues to “lag dramatically” behind the overall not-for-profit community, with only 9 out of 76 national organizations being led by women professionals.

This is not new news. In 2009, 11 of these national organizations had women leaders. Instead of making progress, we are regressing. What continues to shock me, however, is the continued acceptance of the Jewish community of this appalling trend.

Our organizations—the very ones focused on human rights, social injustice, and equal access—are not applying the same principles to their hiring and promoting practices. While of course women as a whole are suffering, it is the organizations themselves that are truly at risk. In a time when there is a dearth of skilled management, 50% of the potential talent pool is shut out of the top jobs.

And it is an external, strategic issue as well. According to Forbes, women now control more than half of the private wealth in America. Within a generation, women will inherit 70% of the $41 trillion in intergenerational wealth. On average, women give nearly twice the percentage of their income to charity than men do. Excluding women from top positions gives the message the Jewish communal world does not value women or their opinions; that that don’t have an equal seat at the table. This is not a message that not for profit organizations want to convey to those who are making the majority of the funding decisions.

To be sure, many people will tell you that there are not enough qualified women in the applicant pool. And yet, Jewish women have greater representation as Presidents of Ivy League universities than they do as leaders of Jewish national organizations. People will also say that for life style reasons, women don’t want the head job; however, nearly 70% of the employees of these organizations are female. Surely a good percentage of them are putting in as many hours in middle management as their leadership logs in the CEO suite.

Advancing Women Professionals and the Jewish Community, an organization created to address this very issue, has made some progress by intensifying the focus on the inequities women face in Jewish communal workplace. It has engaged both women and men in the dialogue, published reports, and created specific programs designed to improve quality of work life for all, close the salary gap and increase the visibility of women as thought leaders. However, the numbers show we have a long way to go.

All is not hopeless. There are many qualified women who can effectively lead our organizations. But this is not a women’s issue, it is a Jewish communal issue. Those who have the ability to shape framework of our organizations must understand, embrace and prioritize this challenge. Until we as a community understand that securing our organizations for the future is just as important as the mission driven work we perform, nothing will change.

This article was published on December 12 as an Op-Ed piece on the eJewishPhilanthropy website.

In my free time, I am president of my synagogue--a large Reform congregation with about 1800 families. As president, I give a lot of speeches. Here is a copy of my Kol Nidre address. Thanks for reading it. It's about tradition, community and synagogue life.

A mother is making brisket for the holidays as her son watches. She seasons the meat, slices off each end and places in the pan. “Mommy,” the boy asks, “why do you cut off each end before you put the brisket in the pan?”

“It's how my mother always did it,” she answers. “You will have to ask her why this makes it taste so good." The boy dials the phone. “Grandma, why do you cut off each end of the brisket before you cook it? How does that make it taste better?” The grandmother pauses before answering, “That is how my mother did it—it was the secret to her recipe.”

So the family goes to visit the great-grandmother. “Bubbe,” the young boy asks. “When you make brisket, why does cutting off each end of the meat make it taste better?” “What taste better?” the bubbe replies “it was the only way it would fit in my pan.”

Each of our families has traditions that have been passed down from generation to generation. Some are steeped with history and meaning; others we do simply because we have always done them. Some we can’t wait to share, some we do grudgingly, and some we are forced to stop when those who keep them alive die. But all weave together to create the fabric of who we are. Tradition can be everlasting and, at the same time, all too fragile. It takes just one person to stop telling a story, to stop cooking a meal, visiting a relative or yes, to stop observing a holiday, and an entire chain can be broken.

I have been thinking of this frailty since July when I read an article in the Wall Street Journal titled “More City Bar Mitzvahs Hold the Religion.” The author described a trend in which Jewish families chose to have what he called a Secular Bar Mitzvah when their child turns 13. I was NOT bothered by the non-traditional venues where the ceremonies took place, or that most of the children prepared for these occasions outside of a formal educational process. After all, there certainly is no “one size fits all” method of Judaism.

However, I was troubled to read that many of these ceremonies contained no mention of God, no prayers, and no Torah. While the events were meaningful for the participants and their families, many deliberately excluded rituals and traditions that have been integral parts of Judaism for centuries.

As I read this article, I couldn’t help but think about the early builders of Rodeph Sholom who established our congregation an Orthodox shul in 1842. When CRS evolved into a Reform synagogue, its leaders kept traditions that were key parts of Judaism—they remained steadfastly committed to ritual, education and social action. I also thought of the more recent sustainers of this community, many of whom came to America and to Rodeph Sholom after escaping the Nazi regime in Europe. Their lives had been at risk because of their Judaism. What would they think of a deliberate exclusion of tradition due to a perceived lack of immediate relevancy?

Reform Judaism is built on the concept that individuals have the freedom to interpret ritual in a way that is meaningful for them. We are not expected to follow all the commandants. Rather, we have the opportunity and the obligation to learn about them and embrace those that help us feel spiritual and perhaps more connected to God. There is room in our laws and liturgy for each to find what resonates on a personal level.

Does Secular Bar Mitzvah take this freedom too far? That is a question only the individual can answer. And--in reality, I don’t believe Secular Bar Mitzvah is a fad that will sweep the nation. But, just for a second, imagine what would happen to our religion, to our entire people, if a significant part of a generation of Jews became Bar Mitzvah without any mention of God, prayers, or Torah. With no mention or acknowledgment of the actual commandments themselves? What would the following generation of Jews be like? What rituals would they pass on to their children? If one generation breaks the chain, can it ever be repaired?

There are about 6.5 million Jews in the United States, how many of them—and then, perhaps as a result, their children and their children’s children—can we afford to lose? How many of the 2 million in New York City? How many links in the chain are we willing to drop due to lack of familiarity with, or knowledge of, ritual, limited access to a synagogue, ineffective Jewish education or just indifference?

At Rodeph Sholom, the answer is simple. None. Jewish tradition is too important, our history too rich, and our future too exciting, to allow anyone to miss the opportunity to enjoy all that is has to offer.

Every day, our amazing clergy and top caliber staff focus on developing the prayer experiences, the educational programs, and community service opportunities that will deepen our members’ engagement in Jewish life. Rodeph Sholom’s focus on Judaism’s core values of ritual, education and repairing the world is what makes us who we are as a community. These values can serve as a foundation for each individual, help provide a framework for decision-making, and give purpose in these continued times of uncertainty.

The priorities are evident in all our offerings, which are far too numerous to name, but allow me to mention a few. If it is ritual you seek, Rodeph Sholom prays together as a community each Friday night and offers 5 different services most Shabbat mornings. In the coming weeks there will be an array of holiday celebrations; you can join us in the spring for Purim or for our Freedom and Congregational seders. If you want your intellect stimulated, choose from adult education classes, our women’s Torah study group, learning sessions with our clergy and several Shabbaton. Get involved in the community through Mitzvah Day, One Voice to Save Choice activities, Community Organizing, volunteering in our homeless shelter or simply by donating food tomorrow to our annual food drive. We have concerts, a book club, a family trip to Israel, mah jongg, community theater. There is truly something for everyone.

I am incredibly proud and lucky to be a part of all that goes on here. In times where many congregations around the country are cutting programs and losing members because of indifference or financial hardship, Rodeph Sholom is fortunate to be relatively strong. While there might be wild gyrations on Wall Street and political uncertainty in Washington, our purpose is clear and our path well defined.

And so, we must continue to fulfill our obligation by securing our future. But we cannot do it without your help. Since the day Rodeph Sholom was founded, it has been an integral part of our mission to welcome all who seek to be members of our community, regardless of their financial means. I hope I can count on your continued partnership and support that enables us to keep this most sacred promise.

And, equally important, your participation in our programs and activities strengthens our community, making it all the more vibrant. You are the sustainers of our remarkable heritage. The fabric of our tradition is a tapestry—the more threads it has, the stronger and more beautiful it is. Whether your family has been here for 5 generations or you are attending your first Rodeph Sholom service, you are a critical part of both our history and our future. Your active involvement helps strengthen not just this generation, and not just your children’s but their children’s as well. So, I thank you for your role in helping us keep THIS most sacred promise.

Your support this past year has been incredible and much appreciated. I look forward to working with you as together we can continue to build a community that will flourish for generations to come.

My family joins me in wishing you a g’mar tov and a 5772 blessed with health, happiness and peace. Shanah Tovah.

Summer Plans

Posted on the bulletin board next to my desk is a picture of me in a hospital gown, in a hospital bed. On the tray in front of me is my laptop and I am on the phone—a conference call to be exact. It was taken 8 and a half years ago, just 16 hours after my first son was born 6 weeks ahead of schedule.

My son, thankfully, was completely healthy. However, for a Type-A personality like me, who had planned how she was going to handle her maternity leave at a relatively new job, an early delivery proved the old adage—humans plan, God laughs.

Since then, I have taken vacation and enjoyed family time all with my blackberry or laptop in tow. I don’t think I have gone 24 hours without checking in with the office—weekends included. My organization has offices in Israel where the workweek is Sunday to Thursday, so early Sunday mornings will find me on email or on the phone addressing a variety of situations. Often times, these are not true emergencies and the time pressure could have been avoided.

My children, now 8.5 and 6 years old, are proud of the work I do. But still, they are very aware of the time their parents spend on blackberries, email and conference calls. As am I. My own father died at the young age of 46. He was a wonderful, attentive father. Despite working very hard, it was clear to my sister and me that his family was always his priority. “No one lies on their deathbed wishing they spent more time at the office” was a phrase he used to say—until he had the chance to prove it.

Each year, there are hundreds of articles attesting the benefits of vacation—not just on personal life but on professional life as well. I remember one from a few years ago that John Baldoni wrote for his Harvard Business Review blog that struck me as particularly well thought-out and succinct.

This year, I will heed the advice of so many experts, with a few modifications. I have made plans to be away from the office for nearly 4 weeks. While much of it is just a change of venue, some of it will be pure vacation time. I have rented a house at the beach for the month of August. I have arranged coverage for my kids to make sure I can be effective-- writing, responding to emails, reviewing budgets, making conference calls. I have a reading list of work related books that I have been meaning to tackle for years. I have set aside time to just think about work, the organization and how it can grow. I can be pro-active, not just reactive. And, I am taking the time I need to rejuvenate and reboot, as all leaders need to do.

Maybe with the recent market panic this is the wrong time to do this, or maybe this is the best time to get the perspective I need. Either way, the work is not going to stop, but the view from my window will change. I will be in touch and look forward to coming back to my real office fully rested and ready to jump right in.