As a mom of four school-aged children and wife to an adventurous serial entrepreneur, trying to get work done while completing my graduate degree means there is never a dull moment.

To best manage my ever-changing and often chaotic schedule, I have read dozens of self-help books and amassed a treasure trove of tips and tools on how to live better and tap into my potential. I adopted high-performance habits, witnessed the life-changing magic of tidying up, embraced my imperfections, joined the 5 a.m. club, tapped into the power of now, and stopped apologizing. To say I “put in the work” would be an understatement.

In the midst of the pandemic ups and downs, I was grateful for the survival tips and life hacks that helped keep me stay sane while navigating uncharted territory. I shared many useful tools and life hacks on my blog and adapted them to help my clients move closer to their intended goals.

What happened next came somewhat unexpectedly. I went from “self-help junkie” to “self-help skeptic.” I discovered that what worked for me often didn’t work for others. In fact, tips that worked for some clients were sometimes detrimental to others and accomplished the opposite of their desired outcome.

I realized how important it was for me to understand the narrative beneath a particular individual’s desire for change before digging into which tools and lifestyle hacks are best suited for them. This was the most sustainable way to pave a path toward alignment between their core values and building the life they truly wanted.

Instead of looking for answers, we started digging for better questions. The tools are great, but are they great for you? Why do you want this change now? For example, facing fears can be a good thing, but does the notion of facing your fears apply in all situations?

Here’s another example: The often quoted “If it’s not a hell yes, it’s a no” has resulted in people saying no because it simply doesn’t “feel” good to say yes. Perhaps there are certified people-pleasers out there who can benefit from this approach, but if we adopt this view without deeper questioning, we run the risk of becoming narcissists, looking out for our own interests at the expense of others.

Un-Selfing Help

I have no doubt that the many self-help books I read have had a profound impact on my life and helped change it for the better. I feel a deep sense of gratitude to Brene, Eckhart, Dale, and all the self-help gurus who have made it their life’s mission to help us tap into our potential.

Despite having experienced tremendous growth from the self-help tools I adopted (I still wake up at 5 a.m. and get loads of stuff done before the kids take over) and from my graduate studies in psychology, my endless curiosity about the human condition helped me identify missing components of the puzzle that I previously wasn’t aware of.

The Spiritual Approach

In his best-selling and widely acclaimed book Morality: Restoring the Common Good in Divided Times, Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks shares a profound truth that completely altered the way I understood self-help and self-care.

While the willpower and desire for change come from us, for most of us it is the quality of our relationships that give us meaning and fulfillment, and it is in our ability to love and care for another that we can go beyond our “self.”

Sacks proposes we shift from “I” to “We” and become concerned with the welfare of others as though it were our own. Sacks argues that “the only people that will save us from ourselves is ‘We’ the People.”

While this concept isn’t new, we have seen a lot of new research on the link between taking responsibility and doing for others and improved physical health, mental health, increased happiness levels, and so forth. In a survey of people in 136 countries, people who had donated money to charity were happier than those who had not, and today we see the direct health benefits of helping others and volunteering.

The interdependent nature of our society is perhaps more evident today than ever, and in a post-COVID world, we will have a rare opportunity to re-examine the role of self-help and self-care and recognize the inescapable link between the “self” and the “other,” which will hopefully lead us to a place of greater connection, fulfillment and increased joy.

I have always loved looking to research for guidance on best practices for more wholesome living, and so I continue to share tips with my clients and on my blog. My hope is that you might do the same and adopt what works for you while remaining curious and having in mind that there is no one size fits all formula for success.

As a recovering perfectionist, I can tell you that when success is measured on someone else’s barometer or defined by external forces (e.g., standards of others, validation, results) as opposed to internal ones (the inherent value of what we are doing or want to do), not only do we become more likely to “cheat” the system (like using that oh-so-tempting Instagram filter that makes us look flawless), but we also begin to cheat our systems—the one inside ourselves that is left feeling continuously depleted, as though we are never enough.

Finally, time is a precious, unrenewable resource, so use it wisely. How are you spending your time? Take note of what you can change to move closer toward your intended goals and not someone else’s. I couldn’t think of a better quote that beautifully encapsulates this principle than this verse from Hillel the Elder: “If I am not for myself, who will be for me. If I am only for myself, what am I? If not now, then when?

Originally published November 2020.

Eda Schottenstein is a mental health awareness advocate, founder of The Multi-Role Woman, children’s book author and mother of four. She is passionate about helping women who “struggle with the juggle,” guiding them to bridge the gap between where they are and where they aspire to be.

There has been a lot of questioning about the legitimacy of Santa in our house. It started last year. We tracked him on the Eve and searched the internet for “actual footage” of Rudolph. Our son was only four years old and I thought we had more time. When I discussed this with other families, I got a variety of responses. Some shrugged it off and said they don’t do the Santa thing because they don’t like lying to their children or the patriarchy of it. There were the families that recommended all the ways I could prove his existence. Then there were the parental’s that firmly declared a halt to playdates with our son for fear he would expose their children to this curiosity. “The threat of Santa is how we get through the season.”

I get it. I do. I understand that the idea of sitting on a strange man’s knee telling him what a good girl or boy they’ve been in exchange for gifts can be jarring. I see this and don’t dismiss it. I also know that Christmas is not about Santa on a religious note, and frankly, he tends to overshadow the real man of the hour anyway. Woman of the hour too. I mean, Mary rode on a donkey for five days—pregnant! Way more impressive than a fat guy flying in a sleigh for a day. Am I right?

However, to me, it wasn’t about greed and spoils. The Santa I grew up with lived in the small town of Bristol, Rhode Island. He goes by Gerry.

Mickie and Gerry were friends of the family for as far back as I can remember. Always involved in the community and often seen breakfasting at the King Phillip Inn on Sundays. I remember my parents confiding in me the big secret—they were the real Mr. and Mrs. Claus. “Maryellen, you can’t tell anyone.” I nodded, and my world spun faster. I. Knew. Santa. Mind. Blown.

Their license plate said “Ho Ho Ho,” and they were never skimpy with candy canes. The beard? Oh, it was real alright! As was their generosity. Booked from November to January, morning until night, they didn’t accept payment for their visits, only donations to a charity.

I usually knew when they were coming over. The excitement was apparent by children and adults alike. Christmas carols playing and candles lit, I’d wait. Anticipation consumed me. I got butterflies as soon as I heard the bells. They had this way of entering. A subtle shaking of jingle bells before making their entrance. Not too loud or over the top. No annoyingly fake ho, ho, ho-ing. Rather than overwhelming energy, they were calm and mystical. The air seemed to sparkle around them. Santa was soft-spoken and understated. Still, I could be shy around him. Luckily, Mrs. Claus took the reigns and steered me in the right direction. She did most of the talking with a kind smile and lots of questions. The elves definitely answered to her; that much was clear. Santa, too, no doubt.

Some might say that knowing Mickie and Gerry in real life should have ruined the experience for me. Quite the opposite. It was never Mickie and Gerry playing Mr. and Mrs. Claus. No, t’was Mr. and Mrs. Claus that played Mickie and Gerry. Or so it seemed. Seeing them out and about town or talking with them at family gatherings, Gerry had the same twinkle in his eye wearing jeans and a sweater that he did in his fur-trimmed, red suit. Mickie was as sassy, sweet and in charge as when she wielded sugary treats.

The older I got, the more I had the privilege of getting to know them. You know, the undercover them. They are Jewish and frequented the restaurant where I worked. Whenever the Rabbi joined, Mickie would whisper, “Don’t tell him I order the pork.” Naughty Mrs. Claus! Girl, I got you.

The restaurant was below the 2nd Story Theatre. Most diners ate before the play, so the joint was empty for the show’s run time. In December, Mickie and Gerry… ahem… Mr. and Mrs. Claus would sneak in the side door between gigs, ringing their signature bells and help themselves to a full meal. Well into my twenties, I still got butterflies. It had nothing to do with gifts. Obviously, I knew who was supplying those long, long ago. But I still believed. I believed in them what they were doing. The joy they were spreading, and the magic of Christmas.

That is what Santa represents to me, and why my heart aches as my son heads down the road to not believing. I appreciate and value his curiosity, and will stop myself from plotting drastic action to prove otherwise, but for now I stand by my statement. Yes, Francis, there is a Santa Claus. His name is Gerry.

Maryellen Brito

 

I am an actor in New York City, currently cast in my most fulfilling role to date - mom! When I’m not chasing my son around the playground, I’m busy writing, cooking and trying to remember what I went upstairs for. 

This summer, I described my son, who is thirteen, as splitting his time between Billie Eilish and the L.A. Dodgers—a typical L.A., young teen existence. If you’re in the same boat, you can probably relate—except that my son, Noah, was born with a genetic condition that comes with a cascade of medical, educational and social complications.

When Noah was born, there was so much we didn’t know. There’s no road map for most of us when we learn about a child’s disability for the first time, whether it’s something that’s commonly understood, or something rare and complicated like Noah’s, which presents a lot like cerebral palsy.

Since our journey with Noah began, we’ve experienced a lot of the frustrations common to parents of young children with disabilities, along with many moments of joy. We’ve met other families and learned that we share common experiences—the fractured nature of support and resources, and the frustrating dead-ends and U-turns that come with trying to access those resources, services, reimbursement, and yes, fun, too.

Staying grounded, reaching out to the community to find other families like yours, and paying it forward when you do are all good guidance, but sometimes it’s really hard to follow that advice when you most need it. The cycles of grief that can accompany parenting a child with a disability are completely normal and necessary—that’s one of the most important things I’ve learned in my journey as a parent, and I owe most of that to Diane Simon Smith, a mother of two boys with disabilities who has practiced marriage and family therapy for more than twenty-three years.

Diane’s guidance on going through the grieving process has had a big impact on me in this season of life as Noah’s dad. As Diane told me and a group of other parents recently, it’s necessary to sit with the emotion that comes with grief. Then, when we’re ready, try to picture a landscape that incorporates that emotion and start building a new future, one brick at a time.

Noah is now at the age when it’s time to start preparing for his Bar Mitzvah celebration. Thinking about how different it will be for him and our family has triggered a whole new cycle of grief for me, and served as yet another reminder that so many things aren’t typical for Noah. He won’t have the kind of ceremony that his mother and uncle did when they turned thirteen. Sadness overwhelms me every time I think about that. So I do my best to sit with the emotion. Then, taking Diane’s advice, I think about all that’s possible in building a Bar Mitzvah with Noah that’s not typical. And with that first brick, I see a future that fills me with joy.

As we engage with the Rabbi, Noah, and his family to prepare for Noah’s big day, we’ve all been reminded of the core purpose of this ceremony. The essential idea is to establish that Noah is ready to be a part of the community, and the community is ready to receive him as a fully-fledged member. Typically, the person does intensive studying in preparation to perform a Torah reading during the service. But we are taking a not-so-typical approach so that Noah can bring his whole self to the service through his strengths and loves. As with everything in Noah’s life, music will be everywhere. We are still working on which Billie Eilish song is most appropriate based on his portion of the Torah, but he will be rocking his eye-gaze device to let us know. And in doing so, he is opening the eyes of his family, his Rabbi, and the broader congregation to a new way of seeing this rite of passage. One that doesn’t feel rote, and reinvigorates a sense of a person’s responsibility to his community and the community to him.

Learning from experts, other families that share our experiences, and our children helps us as parents to not only cope, but heal and thrive. That’s one of the biggest motivators for me when it comes to supporting other families raising kids with disabilities—the idea that we can accomplish so much more when we work together.

Jason Lehmbeck

When Jason Lehmbeck's son, Noah, was born with a genetic condition, he pivot his serial technology entrepreneur experience into his new mission: Undivided, a technology platform to help parents of kids with disabilities live their best lives.

Rosh Hashanah – the Jewish New Year – begins at sundown September 24, 2014. With themes of hope, renewal and a sweet new year, there are so many ways to get kids involved in the Rosh Hashanah holiday. There are lots of ways to get the kiddos involved in the holiday if you’re celebrating at home. But if you prefer to take the holiday outside your kitchen and living room, check out one of these Southern California Rosh Hashanah events.

Photo credit: Pretend City

Celebrate Around Town

Celebrate Rosh Hashanah — Shofar Factory
Sound the Shofar! It’s time to celebrate the festival of Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, with a Shofar Factory. With unique media and innovative presentation methods, children will gain insight into the significance of the Shofar in the celebration of Rosh Hashanah. All senses will be engaged as children see and hear a demonstration of the traditional blasts, while learning to blow the Shofar. Kids will also learn and participate in the process involved in making a shofar from a kosher animal. Sept. 17, 11 a.m. – 12 p.m., Pretend City. More info.

Rosh Hashanah Tot Service
Even the youngest of kiddos can observe Rosh Hashanah at this special service just for “tots.” Kids will listen to the rabbi read a story about the Jewish new year and participate in a short service and shofar sounding. Afterwards, join friends and family for apple juice and graham crackers. Sept. 25, 4 p.m., Congregation Beth Israel. More info.

Rosh Hashanah Family Service
Your family is invited to join Congregation Dor Hadash for a family-friendly service to celebrate the Jewish New Year. Kiddos ages 4 and older are welcome to stay after the Family Service for crafts, snacks, and discussions, while parents can join the main service. Kids will join their parents in the main service to hear the shofar! Sept. 25, 9:30 a.m., Congregation Dor Hadash. More info.

Photo credit: Leah Singer

Celebrate at Home
Here are a few tips for getting the kiddos involved to assure you’ll have a kid-friendly Jewish New Year.

  • Create New Years Cards — Encourage the kiddos to pick a friend or two and create a hand-made card with them in mind. It’s as easy as folding a sheet of white construction paper in half and then sticking on some apple stickers or draw apples on the cover. Then have your little on practice writing his name on the inside.
  • Apple and Honey Tasting — Apples and honey are hallmarks of the Rosh Hashanah holiday, signifying a sweet new year. Use the holiday and the symbols to teach kids about different varieties of apples and honey. Cut up red, green and yellow apples for an apple tasting and have the kiddos draw the color apple they like best.
  • Happy Birthday to the World — Since Rosh Hashanah does celebrate another year for the earth, why not create a simple birthday party for the world activity. Check out a Happy Birthday to the world book from the library and read it as a family. Then celebrate the earth by making cupcakes or a cake and singing Happy Birthday.

How do you celebrate Rosh Hashanah with your family?

– Leah R. Singer