HeyJaredSouthern Mikveh
Exploring Jewish ritual, transformation, and sacred moments through a Southern lens.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 6
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- Sep 24, 2026
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- Jul 23, 2026
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A Sukkot for Those Who Wait (opens the original)
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On Tuesday, I attended a writing workshop with . The class began with a prompt asking who or what we were dedicating our time in the session to. Immediately, my mind went to my Papa (my mom’s dad), who would have turned 104 that day if he were still alive. Then, when asked about our favorite fall memory, my mind drifted to the family farm, surrounded by the Appalachian mountains I love, walking through the corn fields and Papa making corn bread. We were then asked to write about what
Stumbling Toward Shabbat Shuva (opens the original)
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These past few weeks have felt like the end of a very long chapter. Maybe even that of a story that’s closing. If so, do I return to the beginning and start over or am I picking up a new book to see what adventure it’ll lead me on?<img alt="
Sing, O Barren One (opens the original)
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What is at the core of a song? Is it the lyrics, the melody, rhythm, or chorus? Could it even be the bridge? Or is it the way it tells a story?Sometimes the story is of hope and love, and other times of pain and heartbreak. This week’s Haftarah starts with the ache, before it ever gets to the joy:Sing, O infertile one,You who bore no child!Shout aloud for joy,You who did not travail!For the children of the wife forlornShall outnumber those of the espoused—said GOD. (<a href="https://www.sefaria.
The Body as Holy Vessel (opens the original)
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I saw a meme earlier this week that I haven’t stopped thinking about. It said, “You’re doing so great handling infertility.” And then replied, “I’m really not. You just can’t see it all. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever gone through.”I think about how much of infertility is invisible by design. The injections happen in bathrooms and kitchens, not in front of anyone. The appointments get scheduled around work so no one has to ask why you’re gone again. The grief gets folded up small enough to
Four Years in the Vineyard (opens the original)
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Four years ago on Tu B’Av, we stood together and chose each other. Tu B’Av, the fifteenth of Av, is one of the strangest and most joyful days on the Jewish calendar. The Talmud says the daughters of Jerusalem used to go out and dance in the vineyards, dressed in borrowed white garments so no one could tell who came from wealth and who didn’t. Everyone equal. Everyone dancing. Everyone open to being chosen.<a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!
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