Life has a way of testing us. At different points, we all face challenges that leave us feeling overwhelmed, discouraged, or uncertain about what comes next: the loss of someone we love, health concerns, financial strain, loneliness, or simply the weight of everyday life. These experiences are part of being human.

Recently, my daughter Lindsey and I, spent a few days in New York celebrating life. We are 28 years apart, yet somehow closer than ever.

She’s the one who likes to take charge, and she did. She handled everything: booking flights, arranging the hotel, calling Ubers, making restaurant reservations, navigating airports, and managing all the little details that come with travel.

At one point, I carelessly tripped over a raised sidewalk and landed on my hip. Lindsey was beside me in an instant, helping me up, brushing me off, and insisting we slow down. Afterwards, feeling grateful I didn’t break a bone, I thanked G-d and I thought about my daughter’s care and concern. I realized this was a reminder of my own aging.

I feel increasingly grateful that both Lindsey and her brother, Zak, are in my life and still want to spend time with me. I never take that for granted.

Going on vacation with my grown daughter may be one of the most brilliant things on my list.

That thought stayed with me when we attended the Broadway production of Every Brilliant Thing, currently starring Mariska Hargitay! We were fortunate to pick up two wonderful seats for this heartfelt and deeply moving experience.

Without giving too much away, the play begins with a child who learns that her mother is struggling with depression. In response, she starts making a list of all the things that make life worth living. What begins as a simple exercise grows into a lifelong collection of ordinary, beautiful moments, a reminder that even during our darkest times, there are still brilliant things worth noticing.

Ice cream. Staying up too late. Laughing until you cry. A favorite 70’s song. A warm chocolate chip cookie. The smell of fresh Italian roast coffee. A walk in the park on a beautiful day. Precious time with someone you love.

None of these things erase hardship. They don’t take away grief or fix everything that hurts. But they do something quieter and just as important: they remind us that joy and sorrow can exist side by side.

What I love most about Every Brilliant Thing is that it doesn’t ask us to find grand answers or make dramatic changes. Instead, it gently points us back to the small moments we often rush past and reminds us that they matter.

Most of us know what it feels like to move through difficult seasons. We don’t always have answers, and we can’t always fix what’s in front of us. But we can notice moments of light when they appear.

Maybe on your list is a grandchild’s hug. A phone call from a cherished old friend. The first warm day of spring. A milestone celebration.  A shared meal with fine wine. A memory that still makes you smile knowingly.

The point isn’t to pretend that everything is okay. It’s to remember that not everything is lost.

Even in difficult times, there are still reasons to keep going, reasons to be grateful, and reasons to notice what’s good.

One of the greatest gifts we can offer ourselves and each other is a simple question:

What’s on your list today?

Not your to-do list.

Not the worries keeping you awake at night.

Not the problems demanding your attention.

Just… the brilliant things.

What made you smile this week?

What gave you a moment of peace?

What reminded you that life still holds wonder?

When we ask ourselves those questions, something shifts. And when we ask them of someone else, something new opens.

In a world that often focuses on what’s broken, perhaps we need more conversations about what is still magical, still meaningful, and still worth celebrating.

So, this week, I’ll leave you with the same question I’ve been carrying with me since New York… What’s on your list of brilliant things?

It won’t erase life’s challenges.

It won’t fix what hurts.

But it might remind you that even here, in the middle of everything, you’re still living a life with joy and light in it.

And sometimes, that’s everything.

Shabbat Shalom