My Keffiyeh Karen Confession
Working through my anger in time for Yom Kippur. Don’t worry, the post isn’t as provocative as the title!
I don’t know about you, but it’s been challenging for me to get into a spiritual mindset this High Holiday season.
Could it be I’ve been focused on other aspects of my life? Or that I’ve been carrying the weight of the 10/7 anniversary and can’t focus on anything else? That could be it since my Hamas nightmares have returned.
Even my diet hasn’t been spiritual; on Monday, I had onion rings and a doughnut for dinner. No regrets. Then again, what is a spiritual meal? Challah and… vegetables? No thanks.
In checking in with myself in preparation for Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, which starts this evening, I’ve noticed anger has been coming up a lot for me lately. Anger at misinformation, assumptions, and blind hatred. Which is obviously a healthy way to fall into a pit of negativity and blind hatred myself!
Take this story, for example:
Last Shabbat, I saw someone at shul was wearing a keffiyeh, the traditional Middle Eastern headscarf that has come to symbolize Palestinian nationalism. The sight of it immediately made me tense and uncomfortable. It wouldn’t have bothered me as much if this person wore a button that said “Free Palestine.” I’m all for a liberated Palestine if it comes with peace and security. But in my experience, the keffiyeh has become tied to antisemitic riots and hateful, terrorist-linked slogans like “bring the war home,” making it hard for me to separate the symbol from the violence and hostility I've witnessed.
So you can imagine my level of anger when this person touched our beloved Torah scroll with it like it was a tallis.
My oh-so optimistic friend sitting next to me pointed this out and said, “Isn’t it nice Jews with all different opinions can come together to pray?”
Of course it was. Jews coming together - what could be so bad about that? I smiled at that and exhaled all the tension out of me and went back to focusing on prayer.
But my inner peace didn’t last long, for when the leader made an announcement about their 10/7 commemoration event, I saw Keffiyeh Karen exchange looks with her friend like it was some sort of joke, an event she possibly couldn’t imagine attending. Goodbye, my optimistic friend’s words that once soothed me. Welcome back, anger.
I know it was wrong of me to hold onto anger for another Jew, to let my emotions get the best of me while being so easily affected by another’s actions. Especially because the keffiyeh and the sudra, the ancient Jewish headscarf, probably share the same origin.
And maybe that anger, that baseless hatred, is my confession this year. That and stealing a wineglass from my friend’s wedding last month. Hey, it was a dreamy teal glass goblet! You would have stolen it too!
Although… I’m flipping the script on Yom Kippur this year and not calling it a “confession.” It’s human to feel this amount of anger towards another Jew. In fact, and unfortunately, it’s pretty en vogue. And it’s unrealistic to flip a switch and rid yourself of an emotion as I just tried to in my synagogue story.
Having said that, I want to feel it less. But how?
This week, I had the honor of hearing from Nova survivors in person. They told their incredible stories of avoiding bullets and hiding out from terrorists until they could flee for their lives to safety.
They ended with the same kind of message: that it’s easy to be angry, to want to punch someone for their beliefs or something they’ve said, but that’s not who Jews are. We are the light. We need to embody that light, and continue to love and be Jewish.
It reminds me of another survivor I heard from on Monday, a former hostage in Gaza. When handed an apple to eat in her captivity, she first gave a piece to a young Gazan girl before eating the fruit herself (and recited the Hebrew blessing over it!). She was able to find humanity in the worst of circumstances.
These amazing stories made me realize that while I’m not quite ready to let go of my anger and this heaviness sitting on my shoulders, maybe there’s something I can do to minimize it at least by a fraction, like meditate, give tzedakah, and focus inward on prayer and other ways I can be the light.
… or I can get a massage at this Jewish-owned spa in Brooklyn that was vandalized on 10/7 for supporting Zionism aka raising awareness of the hostages, something any decent human would do. If you enjoy this blog, hook your girl up with a massage! ;)
During a recent Jewish meditation, I learned that instead of focusing solely on sins while striking your chest during the Vidui confessional prayer, you can think of it as a gentle knock on your heart, a way to check in with yourself.
I was so moved by the idea that I wrote a 100-word story about that concept, a practice I’ve been exploring in my creative writing. Here it is:
I stand before the towering front door to a place I seldom visit, fingers curled into a trembling fist. With a sharp inhale, my knuckles—and heart—knock for ten beats, waking the resident who sleeps inside. I give them a moment to collect themselves. It’s been a year, after all. The door reveals a time-worn woman wrapped in a white shawl, ready to receive confession of sin and blemish. Instead, I cross the threshold into her open arms, not to confront, but to love her and be loved in return. My soul and I weep in embrace, ready to begin again.
G’mar chatima tovah. May we all be sealed in the book of life!
Shabbat Shalom,
P.S. I’ll be taking the next couple of weeks off for the holidays to rest and work on my anger. I hope you take a break too. :)
💦 Similar Drops
first, deep breaths. Does that person know what she is wearing? what it symbolizes? Why not ask her why she is wearing it? Perhaps a very simple explanation. Perhaps she is not aware of the effect it makes. Close to 50% of voters it seeems will vote for a presidential candidate I dislike and will not vote for: how to deal with that fact?
Castholic friends have the confession to unburden their presumed sins. Therapists will ask you to oen up about what troubles you. Here is my method: pull out your cell phone and pretend you are dialing the person you think you might have offended or the person you are annoyed with. Confess or explain or justify your action or reaction ie that which upset you or angered you. In short: get the demon of anger, dislike, hate out of you and send it out for a good airing.
Loved this one, Miranda! Wishing you a sweet shabbat, an inspirational Yom Kippur, and an easy fast. I’ll be knocking on my heart ❤️!