Kimberley & Ben met through Wilderness Torah, an organization that awakens and celebrates earth-based Jewish traditions through inclusive and intergenerational village-building.
We become aware of each other at Tu B’Shvat in the Redwoods in January 2017. Tu B’Shvat is the birthday of the trees in Judaism.
Flash forward to the weeklong Passover in the Desert retreat in 2019 where we have a flirtatious energy exchange. On a 20-minute carpool up to Surprise Canyon, the local oasis, we’re lying on a mattress in the back of the car because there are no available seats. It’s a bumpy ride and every time we go over a bump, our feet touch.
Ben: That summer, I begin a period of men’s work with an intention of opening myself up to love. During that time, Kimberley and I have a few spurts of connection. There’s also a pandemic that contributes to us not seeing each other.
The beginning of 2021 is like a “pre-post-pandemic” world. Neither of us has received our second vaccine and health experts give us permission to have outdoor, limited-capacity social events.
In February, Wilderness Torah starts offering a monthly series of outdoor, daylong events for adults to celebrate holidays through the lens of nature connection. We independently attend the first one for Purim, a holiday of masking and making ourselves hidden from reality to reveal our true selves.
Kimberley: We’re partnered for an activity where we are birds protecting and caring for a nest. There is definitely still a spark between us. Later in the day, we’re mesmerized by a swarm of bees in a hollow on the side of a tree, searching for their next home.
A few months later, we’re both planning to attend another retreat for the holiday of Shavuot, which is the Day of Revelation — when Moses receives the Torah on Mt. Sinai.
Wilderness Torah’s philosophy is that revelation is not just for biblical people “back in the day.” Rather, it’s accessible to us, even now, such as by going into the wilderness. This is an opportunity to ask, “How can we make ourselves ready and able to receive revelation?”
Kimberley: Ben texts me to ask if we can carpool together (in masks, of course). He shares his address and I think, “Oh, it’s 20 minutes out of my way and literally doubles my commute time. Sure, I'll pick you up.”
Kimberley also has a new hammock she wants to practice setting up.
At lunchtime, all of us set up our picnic blankets ten feet apart in a big circle on the grass.
Ben: This doesn’t feel right. I drag my blanket over to Kimberley’s and ask, “Can I eat lunch next to you?”
Kimberley: This is the first time we really have a meaningful conversation about our lives, ourselves, our history — not just logistical details or what we’re currently doing. “We can have a good conversation,” I reflect to myself.
At the end of the event, we help with cleanup as participants depart and then Kimberley invites us to practice setting up her hammock. To arrange to stay later, Ben pushes back a scheduled call with his dad.
Ben: So, we scout the site and find a good pair of trees between the grassy area and a steep slope. We carefully attach the hammock straps and sit down, perpendicular to the hammock, facing downhill.
We’re having a conversation, pretty chill, and Ben starts to realize that the edge of the hammock is digging in the backs of his knees.
Ben: I reflect to myself, “It’s kind of painful with my legs dangling instead of touching level ground.” I ask Kimberley: “Can we rotate 90 degrees?”
Now, we’re lying down in the hammock next to each other, with masks on, continuing our conversation.
Ben: I'm still not completely comfortable. I'm scrunched up next to Kimberley in this hammock and there's not a lot of room for my body to breathe. I lift up my arm and gesture to Kimberley as if to request to put my arm around her.
Kimberley: And I lean my head in to say, “Sure, that's fine.”
And suddenly, we're cuddling in a hammock, experiencing a moment of revelation on the Day of Revelation. “Oh, you!” we each realize.
Kimberley: I just knew that this was my person. This was simply a fact of my life now. My only choice in the matter was to accept reality or not.
Ben: “I only spent 40 years wandering in the wilderness to find you.”
…and then we started dating!
On our third date, we hike in Claremont Canyon, find an off-trail spot to connect privately, and have our first kiss. Ben also shares his lifelong dream of riding the TransAm Westward cycling tour from Virginia to Oregon, which he plans to do the following summer (2022), 46 years after his mom completed the same adventure.
The rest of the summer, we spend as much time together as we can until a vacancy miraculously occurs in Ben’s group house. In September, to deepen our love and connection, Kimberley moves in and promptly begins to turn our home into a jungle, indoors and out!
After our first autumn and winter as a couple, we set a goal to get engaged before Ben departs on his summer cross-country journey — and an intention to each ask the other independently.
For one of Ben’s training rides, loading his bike with much of the gear he will carry next summer, we go camping in Mount Tamalpais (“Mt. Tam”). We discover wild pea vines bordering our campsite, cook dinner over a fire, and have a sweet evening together. Then, we cram ourselves into Ben’s two-person ultralight tent for the night.
The following afternoon, while Kimberley is rolling the last load of gear back to the car, Ben prepares to make his move. He realizes that an archway at one entrance to the campsite is made of the same wild pea vine and he respectfully harvests some and fashions it into a crown.
Upon Kimberley’s return, a bee lands on her hand and stays for a while. We are both enthralled by this beautiful phenomenon. After the bee flies off, this March 20, 2022, at 2:20 pm, Ben walks Kimberley through the arch, turns around, kneels, and speaks the words on his heart:
Kimberley D.C. Schroder
My learning lover
My nurturing examiner–promoter
My touchy-feely-playful wild one
[While adorning her with the wild pea crown] Will you marry me?
She says “Yes!”
While standing together under the arch, to our delight, the bee returns and this time lands on Ben’s hand. As we embrace, the bee flutters around and seems to enjoy crawling on Ben’s fingers, validating our love in a way only a bee can do. Kimberley, who often holds these sacred creatures, feels the bees now also accept Ben.
A week later, we hike in Claremont Canyon and navigate our way back to the off-trail spot of our first kiss. After lunch and a nap, Kimberley prepares to make her move. This March 27, 2022, at 2:30 pm, she kneels before Ben and speaks the words on her heart:
Ben Rosenthal
My love, my life adventure
Supporting healing, creativity, joy, and the wonders of the world
I’m so blessed to be able to explore and experience it all with you
Thank you for being my person
It is my deep honor to love you and to share this life with you
Will you do me the great honor of marrying me?
And I have this token for you for today
And she presents Ben with a ring she has woven out of a spring onion from our yard.
He says, “Yes!”
