I’m heavily dependent on my smartphone and the apps that continue to make my daily life a bit smoother. I’m on and off a host of social media apps. Kosher GPS, YidKit and Yummly have certainly gotten me out of some jams. With Purim right around the corner, Pinterest and Etsy are my newest best friends that can keep my theme on lockdown while I’m gearing up.

It often occurs to me that perhaps my dependency has become a little out of hand, but the app I probably have the most unhealthy relationship is, without a doubt, Waze. For example, as the borders of the Passaic-Clifton community expand, sometimes I find myself going to blocks in town that I’ve never heard of. Even if it’s somewhat obviously close by, I simply put the address in Waze to let it tell me how to get there. And even for simple drives to Teaneck, I always use Waze.

There are some points when I feel that my Waze is failing me and “traffic happens,” so I’m waiting for my clock to hit the ones or the eights and I can listen to traffic on the a.m. radio. (Side note: One of the first times I did this, my daughter was enamored by the idea of traffic reports on the radio.) I find that I’m not alone in having a complicated relationship with this app. Some people are as dependent as me, and I’ve heard people literally break up with their Waze after a disappointing experience; they show up late to one event and just can’t seem to move on from that experience.

I was thinking a lot about this idea, about the need to avoid traffic. I know I’m not alone in admitting that traffic is one of those things that can be completely debilitating. Whether you are sitting in the car alone or with a car full of kids, it can just take the kishkas out of you. In recent years, I have actively tried to improve my response to traffic and take it as a true life lesson, reminding me that I am not in control, and whenever I get to my destination is the time I’m supposed to be at my destination. I don’t go so far as to work on the idea of just trying to be more organized and leave enough time to get from point A to point B. Maybe something to think about Rosh Hashanah 5782; definitely not making the cut for this year.

But I always wonder if the Waze is actually getting me to a place faster or more efficiently as I loop the backroads of Hasbrouck Heights and Lodi just to get to Teaneck. But maybe that’s the fun in it; we all have destinations in life, and while we’d rather just stick to the path, it’s the detours that end up shaping us far more than taking an exact route. I’ll be the first to admit that the detours can be heart-wrenching, draining and can make you question every part of your life and existence in this world. There are always going to be times when we just want simple and clean cut—almost with a set of directions that are simple to understand and navigate us with familiar faces and easy-to-read signs.

A couple of weeks ago, my friend lost her parent very suddenly at a very young age. This is not the first time my friend has experienced devastating loss. She mentioned that someone had asked her a few days after shiva how she was doing getting back to normal. As if it could ever be normal to lose a parent when you are under 40 in this era of medical technology. Within a couple of days after shiva, or any sort of devastating event, it’s like the world expects you to simply revert back to your regularly scheduled program.

I remember someone telling me that I will find a new normal after my husband was diagnosed with cancer. What’s normal about being 23 with a newborn and a husband with a life-threatening disease? As someone who is quite dependent on my incredibly supportive parents, I can’t imagine any sense of a normal life without having parents, so when my friend shared this anecdote, my mind was just blown that someone could have the audacity of having any such expectation as my friend navigates her new world.

When I was driving to a simcha in Brooklyn with my daughter a few weeks ago, she asked me if she should put the address into Waze. As I’m the family Waze expert, I told her she didn’t even need the address and she can simply plug in the name of the hall and it will pop up. For me, there’s something comforting about seeing a wedding hall in the middle of a chasidish neighborhood as a pre-listed destination in Waze. It’s another subtle reminder that in each journey each and every one one of us takes, there’s someone who was also trying to get to the exact same place.

Why is it that what dominates the conversation at the shmorg is the countless routes everyone is comparing and the time it took to get there? In theory, each of us has this similar destination—just let me be the most productive person I could be while I manage to make sure I have some sense of simchat hachaim while doing so.

And while we watch others on their journeys, there will be so many times when another person’s life looks so much more blissful, and then there will be those lives that look more painful and more challenging that you can’t imagine how they wake up in the morning. All I have to do is trust my gut in determining which are the best set of directions for myself. And if Hashem chooses to take us all on a few detours, I hope we all have the koach to come out ahead on that journey. And maybe even spot the undiscovered coffee shop along the way.

By Rachel Zamist

 Rachel Zamist has lived in the Passaic community for the past 32 years and has watched it grow and transition. She is the beaming mother of Mimi, a seventh-grade student at Rachel’s own alma mater, YBH.