A Different Type of Pesach

This year, Pesach is hitting a little differently. Originally, my family and I weren’t even supposed to be here. We had planned to be in Israel, but because of everything going on, because of the war, our tickets were canceled, and our plans changed. We’re here instead. And maybe that’s exactly where we’re meant to be.

With Pesach right around the corner, I took a break from everything and went to the park with my kids to get rid of our chametz, all the bread that had been sitting in the pantry. We decided to feed the ducks. As I sat there, throwing pieces to ducks that weren’t even hungry, watching my kids run freely through the park, I felt myself slow down. The water was moving gently, the ducks were gliding, the geese were just… being. There was something so peaceful about it. And in that moment, I started thinking about what Pesach really means.

I see so many people, especially women, going into overdrive cleaning every room, every closet, every corner. And yes, we clean. Of course, we clean, especially our kitchens. But somewhere along the way, it feels like we’ve added so much pressure to something that was never meant to feel so heavy. Because the real work of Pesach isn’t just in our homes. Pesach is not just about cleaning our homes, it’s about cleaning our Neshama, the parts of ourselves no one else sees.

As I’ve been preparing for Pesach, I realized I haven’t just been cleaning physically, I’ve been cleaning mentally too. Letting go of thoughts I don’t need, releasing things I’ve been holding onto for too long, becoming more aware of how I react, how I speak, and how I carry myself. Our bodies crave things all the time, but not everything we crave is something we actually need. Sometimes it’s just habit, sometimes it’s comfort, and sometimes it’s something we’ve trained ourselves to want. And that’s where discipline comes in, a little more Torah, a little more connection to Hashem, a little more wisdom, a little more Emunah.

As I’ve been cleaning my home, I find myself on so many phone calls, listening to women share their lives with me, their struggles with their husbands, their children, their work, their emotions. And I’ve learned something important, sometimes people don’t need advice, sometimes they just need to be heard. So I listen. I give advice only when I’m asked. I’m learning not to overstep into places that aren’t mine. 

We clean our homes from chametz, but we’re also meant to clean our neshamas from the things that weigh us down, from negative thoughts, from things we’ve seen, from words we’ve said.  Chametz isn’t just physical, it’s also ego, and Pesach gives us a chance to start again, to become lighter, cleaner, more aware, more intentional.

Sitting there in the park, I realized something simple but powerful, my kids didn’t care about how clean the house was in that moment. They cared that we were together, that we were present, that we were sharing something small but meaningful. Maybe that’s also part of the preparation, not just a spotless home, but a peaceful heart, not just a clean kitchen, but a clear mind, not just removing chametz, but removing what no longer belongs inside of us.

And maybe, if we do that, we walk into Pesach not just with a clean home, but with a clean soul.

                                             Emunah