Ribbons and Coffee Dates
Oct 16, 2025
I wore a yellow ribbon at the hem of my hoodie for two whole years.
And now the hostages are home.
I watched my mother take off her “Bring Them Home Now” dog tags.
I saw people celebrating, hugging, weeping, exhaling.
And yet I can’t take off my ribbon. Not yet.
And I’m not even sure why.
I lived for this day. I prayed for this day.
And somehow it still doesn’t feel like it’s fully here.
A year ago, around this time, I sat with an acquaintance who had been a first responder on September 11.
We spoke about how big dates change us. How moments of collective trauma rearrange the soul in ways that never quite go back to how they were.
At one point I heard myself say, “October 7 broke something in me. I’ll never be the same again.”
And I cried.
I wasn’t there in Israel when it happened.
I refused to watch the videos or peruse social media.
I deleted every news app from my phone.
And still the air I breathed was different.
I was different.
This morning, I realized that the yellow ribbon I’ve worn faithfully for these last two years was as much for me as it was for the brothers and sisters we lost.
I lost part of myself too.
And maybe that part hasn’t come home yet.
Maybe that’s why I'm not ready to take it off.
Two years ago, when we opened Cohort 5 of Vessel, we cried on our welcome call.
It feels almost surreal that we’ll be opening Cohort 7 with the end of this long nightmare.
It feels too beautiful and too painful at the same time.
The miracle stories they’ll tell in a hundred years will sound like poetry.
How the war began and ended on the same day.
How the words of the Nevi'im seemed to align like coordinates in some divine constellation.
And yet our lived experience never fits neatly into tidy endings.
We live with ribbons and reminders, seen and unseen.
Healing doesn’t really come full circle.
It just keeps cycling and spiraling and softening if we let it.
It has been a long year.
A difficult summer.
Full of uncertainty and discovery and tears and growth.
And I have been longing to begin again.
To breathe again.
Bereishis.
Vessel.
A new beginning.
And we begin again with friends.
Old voices and new ones.
People who are ready to take the plunge into the adventure of the everyday together.
Registration for our seventh cohort of Vessel reopens after Shabbos for just seven days.
If you register early enough, you’ll receive your free Vessel Heartwork Journal in time for our first class.
And because the best things always seem to happen over coffee and in conversation with friends,
I’m inviting you to a free Vessel Coffee Date next Wednesday morning, October 22, at 11:00AM EST.
We’ll gather for an hour.
I’ll answer any questions about Vessel and share what this season is really about.
Alumni are more than welcome too.
Come as you are.
Curious, uncertain, excited, nervous.
All of it belongs.
Register for our Free Coffee Call here
Because beginnings are better when we begin them together.
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Have you caught up on our Vessel podcast mini-series?
These eight episodes feature the voices of Vessel and I can't wait for you to hear who they are.
And as a surprise.... there's a last minute ninth episode dropping Sunday! Listen to the first episodes here before our last premiers next week!
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Life happens in little bits. Learn to love the little bytes.