Lately, I've been having these strange moments. I'll be reading, or teaching, or cooking—and a quiet thought creeps in: Will AI replace me? It's not always a dark thought. Sometimes it's simple curiosity. But beneath it lies a deeper question many of us are asking. In a world of looming superintelligence and advanced robotics: What makes me irreplaceable? It's unsettling to imagine that many of the qualities we take pride in — intelligence, creativity, even productivity — might one day be performed better and faster by machines. But alongside those flickers of unease, I've been having another kind of moment — moments of clarity and grounding. Moments that feel utterly, defiantly human. This past Shavuot, I was lying in a hammock beneath the trees when my five-year-old climbed into my arms. We nestled into one of our "cuddle sessions." I wasn't just hugging her — I was trying to make her feel, deep in her little body, that she is loved. For being her. For being mine.