Last summer Jon Stewart, host of the popular Daily Show, urged fellow New Yorkers to show up for a bone marrow drive. He took action after learning that a fan who was fighting leukemia was having no luck find a bone marrow donor for a transplant needed to save his life. Ira Riklis, who’s been registered on a list of potential donors for years, knows this story only too well. Matching bone marrow donors with potential recipients is orders of magnitude harder than matching blood types. To be successful, a very close match with someone from a similar demographic and ethnic background must be found.
Although there are seven-million people registered in a national database of those willing to donate, none were close to the patient in this case. This is one reason why Ira Riklis urges people to register as donors: the more people who register, the more likely a match can be found for people in need. It’s easy to register, you’ll find the info you need online at sites like the National Bone Marrow program. And while just one in two hundred on register ever get called to donate, if you are called upon know that the actual procedure is simple and relatively minor.
If you really want to get good at something you love, you often have to go through a little pain. That has certainly been Ira Riklis’ experience in his quest to become an expert skier. To become an exert skier, you need to be able to make expert turns. And as he notes: “There is no easy way to learn to make an expert turn.” Non-experts are scared of falling, so they tend to lean into the slope so that, if they fall, they fall on their soft, padded rear ends.
But to make an expert turn you have to lean away from the slope. That means that any mistake will basically launch you down the mountain face first—a move that Ira Riklis has dubbed a “face plant.” He’s performed many face plants as he was learning and can assure you that each one feels like getting a hard punch in the face. But that’s what it takes to master the turns. And if it’s any consolation, he likens it to what’s said about the childbirth—after a while you forget the pain you’ve endured and simply enjoy the results.
When you’re driving a car, how many steps are involved in approaching a traffic light at a busy intersection where you’re planning to make a left turn? Chances are, you’d have a hard time listing them all. Check to see if the light’s changing. Check the rearview mirror for traffic behind you. Check for traffic approaching from the cross street. And on and on. Do you think of all those steps at the time? Nope, if you’ve been driving a while and feel confident in driving, you just do them automatically. Ira Riklis can tell you that it’s the same when you’re speeding down steep mountain slopes on skis.
Once you’ve learned, and practiced, the techniques you need to know, you just perform those techniques automatically. Skiing—done well—is a complex, rhythmic ballet of motions, movements and shifts of balance. With experience, the correct motions simply become, muscle memory. Today, Ira Riklis doesn’t even notice the turn he’s currently making; he relies on instincts born of his prior training and experiences. He’s thinking about a half mile down the mountain choosing his path to most effectively use the terrain, find the most enjoyable path and to avoid people and obstacles ahead.
Once, when Ira Riklis was talking with his Rabbi about his concerns that there were so much need in the world and so many worthy causes his Rabbi related a parable that provided perspective. The story involved a man on a beach watching a young boy who is walking along the ocean’s edge picking up starfish and throwing them back into the water. “Why are you doing that?” he asks. “I want to save the starfish,” comes the reply, “they’ll die if they’re out of the water.” “But,” the man replies, “how can you hope to make a difference? There are many, many starfish and only one of you.” “You’re right,” says the boy as he saves another starfish, “but I just made a difference to that one.”
These days, when we seem surrounded by an ocean of problems, it’s easy to feel discouraged and overwhelmed about ever solving them. Ira Riklis feels that way at times. Even though he and his family have been blessed with money and health and make it a point to support numerous good causes, they often wish they could do more. When that happens to you, do as he does. Remember the boy on the beach, and do just one thing that can make a difference.
We’ve all see cartoons or skits where some hapless character is trying to learn a complex skill step by step from some not-so-great teacher or through a set of poorly written instructions. In fact, most of us have had those experiences at some point in our lives (which is what makes them so funny in cartoons). Ira Riklis went through plenty of those moments in his long quest to find the instructor who could help him become an expert skier.
Most instructors take that step-by-step approach when teaching things like how to make a turn. Put your weight on your downhill ski. Lean your hips into the hill. Lean your torso down the hill. Have the uphill ski about three inches ahead of the downhill ski. Keep your shoulders even and pointed down the mountain. Turn your hips. Move your body up. (Say what!?) Un-weight the downhill ski. Re-weight the uphill ski, etc., etc., etc… The thing is, as Ira Riklis finally learned, you can’t think your way step-by-step through a complex activity. You’ve got to learn the basics, practice them until they become second nature, then rely on muscle memory to carry you through.
Pick a number, any number, so goes the old pitch. But when it comes to deciding how much to donate to a given charity, does it matter what number you pick? It does to Ira Riklis. Sure, in general you want to give whatever you can reasonable afford to give. But no one, not even the most wealthy among us, can give enough to meet the needs of all the charities we might wish to support.
Ira Riklis donates money to help support nearly fifty charitable groups. The amounts vary widely, but the “magic” number that links them all is 18. Most donations he makes are in some multiple of that number. Why? It’s a way of appreciating the gift of Life that’s based on the ancient Hebrew practice of Gematrea, the calculation of the numerical equivalence of letters and words. In Hebrew, the word for life is Chai, which is composed of letters that add up to 18.
What’s your favorite winter pastime, the thing you like to do when you take a vacation? For many—including Ira Riklis—skiing ranks high on the list. He’s been taking skiing vacations ever since his first experience with the sport on a family outing as a young boy. For these people, a well-groomed slope, crisp fresh air and deep powder is just one step shy of heaven. Others, who’ve had enough of the snow and cold by this time of year, prefer to take a winter trip to a warm, sunny tropical beach.
Whichever group you fall into, Ira Riklis wonders what you’re waiting for. While winter officially began just a few week ago, it won’t last all that long. And the best places, like Vail for skiing, are likely to fill up before long. Now’s the time to take a break from what you’re doing, check your calendar for when you can get away and start planning that trip!
One the first skiing Ira Riklis when starting out was how to sidestep his way up slopes. His sister kindly taught him that on their first family ski trip after he’d spent a futile hour trying to learn how to do the herringbone. But while sidestepping is a good way to climb up, what do you do when you’re going downhill and come to a place that’s too steep or too narrow, or too icy for you to comfortably handle?
For that, Ira Riklis strongly recommends that you learn how to sideslip. It’s a valuable tool that can get you out of some pretty dicey situations. Even advanced skiers encounter places where they need to sideslip. Of course, it’s best to learn and practice the technique before you find yourself in a spot where you need to use it. You can find instructions on how to do it online, but a better idea is to take a class and ask the instructor to teach you how to do it properly.
Why don’t more people make it a point to donate blood, even though someone needs blood every few seconds in this country? It may be that many are afraid that the process might hurt. But Ira Riklis, who’s been donating blood on a fairly regular basis for many years now, can attest that there’s absolutely no pain involved. About the only thing you feel is a little sting when they quickly stick your finger to take a drop of blood for testing.
Sometimes you run into situations that leave you scratching your head wondering why they’re doing something a certain way. For example, why do they stick your finger before they take your blood pressure? Of course your blood pressure goes up after that happens! But at times like that, Ira Riklis finds the best thing to do is to laugh and go with the flow. The old joke goes: “It only hurts when I laugh.” But when it comes to giving blood, it doesn’t hurt at all, especially when you laugh.
Yehudah Kohn, his wife, Riki, take to heart Rabbi Karlibach’s observation that “Every child needs one person who believes in him.” That’s the principle that guides them daily at the Emunah Bet Elazraki Children’s Home in Netanya, Israel. For four decades now, they and their staff have treated every at-risk child who has come to live with them like part of an extended, loving family. Ira Riklis witnessed this in person a number of years back and has helped support the home ever since.
The school is home to more than 200 children, ages 4 through 18, who come from dysfunctional families with histories of violence, drug and alcohol abuse, mental illness and abandonment. At Bet Elazraki, they find the care, guidance, social assistance and therapeutic support they need to grow into healthy, loving adults. And as Ira Riklis has seen time and again over the years, like any true family, the children’s connection with the school continues long after they go out into the world.