elcome. Before anything else, I want to take a moment to connect with you. I don’t know where in the world you are as you read this, or what brought you here. But I imagine you’re a little like me, looking for more connection. Connection to the deeper, more meaningful parts of yourself. Connection with the people you care about: family, friends, students, colleagues, community. We are born yearning for it. The soul reaches for it on its own. In the poem that opens Likutei Moharan, Rabbi Nachman writes that the soul longs to be lavud, unified. It’s an unusual word, drawn from the laws of building a sukkah. When two planks stand close enough together, the gap between them stops counting as a separation, and they are regarded as a single wall. They aren’t fused into one thing — still two distinct planks, but near enough to be counted as joined. What moves me is a single letter. Lavud, לבוד joined, is spelled with a vav. Take the vav away and the same letters spell לבד alone. In Hebrew, the vav is the connector. Vav haChibur. So the whole distance between alone and united turns on one connecting letter, and on the proximity and intention it takes to reach across the gap. That reaching is what Chibur hopes to be. It is why my partner and I are launching this magazine: to create a space to share our longing for growth and connection — with ourselves, with each other, with our people, and with Hashem. We believe emotional well-being and soulful well-being feed each other. When we come closer to our true selves, a path opens to draw closer to our Creator, in a way that is healthy, attuned, and deeply attached. This magazine is meant to hold the thoughts many of us carry but rarely put into words. So we are inviting you in: therapists, teachers, rabbis, clients, mothers, fathers, children. If something has been meaningful to you, it is probably meaningful to someone else too. We would like to hear it. There is one more thing I want to say, and it is personal.
For many years before I became a therapist, I was a teacher and a writer. When you teach, you teach to a room. When you write, you write to a population. The message has to be general enough to reach everyone in front of you. Then I became a therapist, and I learned how different good work is when it is truly attuned. What helps one person can be the opposite of what another person needs. A woman who comes in looking for empowerment might learn to stand tall, project her voice, and take up space she has learned to always give away. A woman who comes in for help with anger might need the reverse: to soften her tone, take a breath, and feel safe letting others share the space. Same room, opposite guidance. Both right. This is only one example. But so much good advice is only as good as its fit for the person receiving it. After enough years of working this way, it is hard to go back to writing one message for many people, knowing it cannot be perfectly attuned to everyone reading it. So I need you as a partner in this. Keep your filters engaged as you read, because you know what is right for you. If something speaks to you, take it in. Let it nourish you, inspire you, open your heart, and bring you closer. And if something does not fit where you are right now, let it pass, and leave it for someone else who may need it. The truth is that none of us — writers, therapists, and contributors alike — can attune perfectly to every reader. There is no one-size- fits-all in mental health and well-being. That brings us back to the idea of lavud. As you read, we each stay distinct, with our own needs and our own story, and still we can be joined in proximity and intention, even when not every word is meant for every reader. Take what nourishes you, leave what doesn’t, and trust yourself to know the difference. Buffet style. Welcome to Chibur. I am glad you are here.
One last thing: the response from the community has been truly humbling. We sent out a call for articles, and almost overnight our inbox overflowed with more quality content than we ever imagined. What was meant to be one opening issue became enough to fill two. So enjoy this one, there is more coming soon.
With warmth, Shalva Waldman, M.Sc.
Shalva Waldman, M.Sc., is a psychotherapist, writer, co-founder of Chibur Magazine, and creator of the Attuned Integrative Reconsolidation (AIR) framework, an approach that helps therapists integrate diverse modalities through shared therapeutic principles. She lives in Tzfat, Israel, with her family and is continually exploring what helps people deepen their connection with themselves, one another, and HKBH. She teaches internationally and writes about the intersection of psychology, Jewish thought, and the enduring human search for connection.