Two years ago, I never thought I’d be living in Israel now. One year ago, I never thought I’d be days away from my five month wedding anniversary by now. And two months ago, I never thought I’d be weeks away from my first trip to Uman, Ukraine. I have to admit that at first, I didn’t really want to go. I had all kinds of reasons, including the fact that it was my Shana Rishona (the first year of marriage) and I shouldn’t be away from my husband overnight; definitely not for days at a time. Plus, my husband and I are saving money for various important purchases and I felt that now wasn’t the time to splurge on a trip. Ultimately I booked the trip and the closer it gets, the more excited I’m getting. After all, G-d has given me so many unexpected opportunities which have blossomed into the most wonderful blessings, how can I pass up this one?

Let me preface everything by saying that I do not categorize myself as a “Breslover”. I grew up pretty mainstream Modern Orthodox. Shomer Shabbat, Kosher, Orthodox Day School, etc. I didn’t really even know about Rebbe Nachman or Breslov until maybe a couple of years ago. Even then, my knowledge of all things “Breslov” mainly came from reading and re-reading The Garden of Emuna by R’ Shalom Arush. (By the way, I highly recommend this book. It changed my whole perspective on life in general and you don’t have to be Breslov or religious or even Jewish to benefit from his lessons and advice. If nothing else, it helped ease much of the anxiety I was dealing with and gave me a much stronger sense of hope and trust in G-d. But I digress…) I didn’t know much about Rebbe Nachman and I definitely never heard about this whole Uman thing. The first time I heard about Uman was when I moved to Israel less than a year ago. I was getting to know my future husband and he told me that he was going to this place called Uman for Rosh Hashana. I didn’t even know where Uman was or why he would go there so he explained that he was going to pray at the grave of Rebbe Nachman, as well as other great tzaddikim. I thought to myself, “how nice that he’s taking a trip this year to pray at R’ Nachman” as though it was a one-time sweet little trip. Later I learned that this was a much bigger deal. It’s a yearly pilgrimage that literally thousands of Jewish men from around the world make every Rosh Hashana. That was my introduction to Uman and honestly, I didn’t have a very strong desire to go there.

First of all, I started to resent it. You see, these men who make these yearly pilgrimages to Uman, do so every year (barring extenuating circumstances). And now that I’m married to one, I started to realize that I just might not be celebrating Rosh Hashana with my husband this year and many years. As an American Jew, I view Rosh Hashana as not only the beginning of the High Holy Days and a serious time of prayer and reflection, but also a time for family. So many memories of dipping apples in honey and savoring sweet slices of pomegranate while the family is bringing in the new year together is such a special part of my childhood. I always expected to carry on this tradition with my own husband and, G-d willing, future family. But now, I feel like Uman is robbing me of that experience. I feel like I’m competing with Uman for my husband’s presence. Though I try not to, I can easily fall into a bad mood when I get reminded that I don’t get to bring in the New Year with my new husband. So yeah, Uman and me… let’s just say I wasn’t scouring travel sites trying to book tickets.

Secondly, I’m not a “hippie”. I may listen to ’60’s-’70’s folk music and I often pair my Birkenstock-style sandals with flowy, colorful long skirts, but no one is going to mistake me for a Deadhead living in Haight-Ashbury in the ’60’s. I’m pretty mainstream and I enjoy all genres of music, fashion, etc. Even when it comes to my Judaism, I don’t follow any one school of thought. I enjoy learning from all different sects — Chabad, Breslov, various other Chasidic groups, Ashkenazi, Sephardic, even Brisk. You catch my drift here. Anyway, why do I bring this up? Followers of Rebbe Nachman are called Breslovers. Breslovers make up the bulk of Uman tourists and Breslovers are usually associated (rightfully or wrongfully) with people stuck in the Woodstock era who spend their nights barefoot and dancing in the streets, among other things. This is not me. While I crave spirituality and believe in spiritual connections, I’m not about “feeling the vibes” and dancing in fields and deep meditation or whatever. Not that anything is wrong with that, it’s just not usually how I personally connect. But that’s what people think of when they think of the Breslov crowd.

Ultimately, I realized none of that is what Uman is about. It’s not about my husband going away or wannabe hippies rocking out to some sort of Jewish trance music in the fields. It’s about opening yourself up to exploring different facets of Judaism and ways of connecting to G-d. R’ Nachman was a great rabbi, tzaddik, and spiritual leader. On this, everyone agrees. No matter how others choose to interpret his works, I choose to appreciate what I believe are his messages and take what I can from his teachings. The people going on this trip are educated, inspiring, wholesome individuals. Uman is a place for scholars, a place for those wishing to strengthen their faith in G-d, a place that just may help you connect a little more deeply.  I’m compelled to take this journey. It’s a journey perfectly suited for me – I am Jewish. I want to strengthen my connection to G-d and grow spiritually. I want to pray more deeply. I want to be happier. I want to make new friends with women who share my background, beliefs, and culture. And I think this just may be the place to do it.