I’m blown away by the unexpected connections made during these challenging times. I’ve gone from running a completely localized fitness company in Maryland to now sharing SPIRIT Club’s services with over 4,500 people in the US, Canada, and Israel.

Today I woke up and led a fitness class for 65 people in California! Everyday I now have the opportunity to meet people from all over the country and the world. I’m always touched by how universal people are, particularly those affiliated with the disability community. The field I work in is filled with good hearted, kind, fun and enthusiastic people, no matter where they live.

I have so much fun building relationships and connections to people I never expected to meet. I was recently featured on a podcast hosted by an awesome organization called Aloha Independent Living, which provides statewide independent living programs for people with disabilities in Hawaii, to share how fitness can be made available for ALL. I had no idea there were so many people looking for supportive and accessible exercise programs.

Our next stage is taking advantage of the incredible connections made virtually, and establishing in-person presences so we can further strengthen our partnerships and relationships. I feel incredibly fortunate to be able to build so many connections with so many amazing people and organizations.

Separation from human contact made me feel like a junkie, withdrawing from the psychedelic effects of social stimulation. I grew intensely mindful of my most intimate connections. I became more aware of my own feelings and thoughts. I became more focused on my connection to my wife, family and children, and my roles as husband, father and grandfather.

To me, it became obvious that any attempts to change the greater world are secondary to our primary responsibilities to ourselves and those closest to us.

As a result, I think I have become a more mindful husband, father and grandfather. I have written a new manuscript that I hope to publish as a book, “The Grandparent Revolution,” in which I construct a model for grandparenting in the new era. In terms of my work with youth at risk, I am trying to help younger people integrate their roles as sons and daughters of a nuclear family as part of their consolidation of identity.

In short, I have become incredibly mindful of the story attributed to the Rebbe of Kotzk, who said that as a young man he aimed to change the world. As he matured, he accepted that changing the world was beyond his capabilities, so he decided to transform his country. However, age taught him that this too was not realistic. He then set out to change his city or at least his village, but he recognized that even this was ambitious beyond his capabilities. He then set up simply transforming his family. However, in his final stage of living, he concluded that a worthy and realistic goal would simply be to attempt to transform himself.

The lesson of Covid for me is quite similar to that of the Rebbe. However, I would perhaps offer a slightly alternate conclusion. I’m not “wise” enough to forsake the goal of changing the world. However, I can state that changing greater society must be grounded in personal growth within our most intimate circles.

The Covid experience has clarified for me that many great people were not necessarily good people and hence many great ideas have fallen short of transforming our world in a morally positive sense. I am trying hard to become one of the good people. I am uncertain as to whether my efforts will succeed, but I am convinced of the nobleness of this struggle.

Leading through Covid was challenging. Not embracing Pure Heart scholars, while knowing they needed a hug from me, was unbearable.

When I dedicated my life journey to serve youth with incarcerated parents, I quickly understood that consistency would be the driving force in their lives to push them to thrive. Closing Pure Heart doors potentially could have ended their hope, and as a leader, I couldn’t allow that to happen.

Unexpectedly, Pure Heart was able to connect with new funding partners, The Good People Fund being one of them, and it saved us. Having dedicated connections, funding partners and supporters elevates Pure Heart Foundation’s efforts and also spreads awareness on the horrific statistics of children of incarcerated parents and opens our eyes to see children who are often forgotten.

Because of unexpected connections, Pure Heart scholars did not lack during Covid. Unexpected connections are why our scholars are breaking the cycle one at a time. The cycle of generational incarceration ends with us, and as PH leader, I am so proud.

In March of 2020, emails began to flood our Family-to-Family inbox with subject lines that read: “I want to help” and “Can I sponsor a family in need?” and “How’s the family I sponsor doing?” With the pandemic fueling panic for all of us, the outreach we received was unexpected — especially since we hadn’t even sent out a “call to action” appeal.

Little did we know that within a few months, we would almost double the size of our Family-to-Family “Sponsor a Family” program, our small staff working from home to match donors to families needing help.

The challenge for me has been to find balance and equanimity in both my personal and work life. Being able to sense the needs of my own family while I work to ensure the needs of families we help are met has been a true stretch for me. Only now do I feel the exhaustion of responsibility for thousands of struggling moms/dads/kids and grandparents — though it’s an exhaustion I’m proud to carry.

As things return to “normal,” it’s human nature, I believe, to return to old ways of being: generosity will find pre-set boundaries and we will have to work to find families eager to sponsor a family in need.

But having experienced such generosity of spirit and kindness from average American families eager to “share their bounty” with those among us with very little, I feel I have seen the best of us — and I am hopeful.

Whenever I think back to the day we had to put all our employees on furlough, as Israel went into its first lockdown in March 2020, I recall the visceral response I had to a scary, unknown future. In the ensuing months, I became almost grateful for the chance to step back from the frenzy of the day-to-day work, and truly reflect on the future of Shutaf. Of course, Beth and I had spoken often about this, but it was suddenly possible to gain even more clarity about our dreams for the organization without the daily “noise.”

As we slowly develop a succession plan, I am able to connect calmly to a vision of Shutaf in the future — continuing to model excellent, inclusive programming for children, teens and young adults with disabilities. I also see Shutaf’s Inclusion Guide helping hundreds — if not thousands — of teachers, counselors, professionals and parents to really see, truly hear and calmly respond to children and adults of all ages with disabilities who deserve to be seen, heard and respected.

Shutaf continues to be a relatively small organization in Jerusalem (thanks to Naomi’s wise words that not everyone has to go national), yet through our Inclusion Guide we have the potential to spread our inclusion ethos widely — even globally and across cultures. I’m unexpectedly connecting to the possibility of Shutaf having a huge impact on the field of disabilities in the coming years. I look forward to reflecting on that when Beth and I retire, as we sit on the beach on a beautiful Greek island, watching the sunset and sipping our margaritas.