Singer Daniel Admon: "I Found Myself at 33 Without a Wife, Home, or Money"

Daniel Admon, 36, newly married, musician. Lives in London where he runs a music school he founded.

"After I left my first wife, who was not Jewish," Daniel candidly shares, "I went to live with my rabbi, one of the Chabad emissaries in London. A few days after moving in with him, I sought his advice about my next steps, and ultimately decided to return to Israel and study in a yeshiva. I felt it was imperative to live in Israel, that it was my place. I am Jewish, Israeli, my family and friends are here, and it was only natural for me to return. I also wanted to study Torah and observe mitzvot properly.

"When I returned to Israel, my massive breakdown began. I was engulfed in immense confusion. I started learning at a yeshiva in the Geula neighborhood, and after a few days, I simply couldn't understand what was happening to me. I asked myself: 'Who am I, where am I, what happened here?' Suddenly, I found myself at 33, without a wife, without a home, without money. I didn't know anyone around me, didn't understand how this world operated, its language, how to behave.

"At the beginning of my return at the Chabad house, it was different. Much more like the world I knew. People who came to the Chabad house were similar to me, but in Geula, I felt like a stranger. I didn’t know how to handle it. Suddenly, the variety of religious identities overwhelmed me. I didn’t know if I was Chabadnik, Ashkenazi, Sephardi, Lithuanian, Hasidic, National Religious. It was a very strong confusion. Thank Hashem, my rabbi and some very good friends helped me. Thanks to them, I managed to stand on my feet again.

"In my first days in Geula, even thoughts like: 'I don't want Judaism anymore, I don't want to hear anything about it' crossed my mind. I stopped praying and putting on tefillin. However, there was one thing I couldn't even think of giving up – eating without blessing. When I realized that if I couldn’t imagine a life where I didn’t bless my food, then I could probably get to a point where it wouldn’t make sense not to pray, not to lay tefillin, not to keep Shabbat. I talked to my rabbi, and together we decided that I would return to England to strengthen my Jewish identity with him."

Judaism?! Tradition?! I Thought All Religious People Were the Same

Admon was born in Tel Aviv to a secular family, and at age nine, moved with his family to Reut. "I was born to an upper-middle-class family, I have a brother and two sisters, my mom assisted in a kindergarten, my dad was military, in combat roles, so he wasn’t home much. On Shabbatot when dad was home, we would do Kiddush. And overall, when dad was home, he was really present. Truly there for us. It was from him that I got my connection to music. He taught me to play guitar. Dad had a guitar stored on a high shelf that I couldn’t reach despite all my efforts. When I was five, I told him I wanted to play, and then he started teaching me. Within a short time, maybe a year, I was already playing better than him.

"Overall, my connection to music started at a very young age. I remember that when I was six, once driving with my mom, a song played, and when we reached our destination, she asked me to get out of the car, but I told her I had to stay until the song finished.

"I had a generally good childhood in Tel Aviv, and when I was in the fourth grade, we moved to Reut, a small community near Modiin where everyone knew everyone. Years later, when I arrived at the Jewish community in London, the communal aspect was very familiar to me. Familiar and pleasant. Until age 27, until I flew to London, I lived in Reut.

"Even after we moved to Reut, my commitment to music remained strong; at 11, I also started playing the piano. In terms of what I listened to, I was very focused on a particular band. I believe these years shaped me as a songwriter. I wanted to write hits. It influences me to this day. In terms of what I listen to, of course today Israeli and Jewish music speaks to me much more.

"I also went to high school in Reut, but I hardly attended classes. There was a corner in the yard I would usually sit in, and even when I left for somewhere else, I’d place a sign that read: 'Be right back, Daniel,' so no one would take my spot. I spent most of my time writing songs, and occasionally, I’d go record in various studios in Tel Aviv.

"Regarding Judaism and tradition, at that time, I had no interest in it whatsoever. Neither good nor bad. And overall, I thought all religious people were the same. I had no idea there were so many different styles. Nonetheless, I believed there was a higher power. That there was someone running the world. But basically, during my teenage years, my main interest was music.

After his military discharge, like many his age, Admon worked various odd jobs. When he started, he didn’t know one of them would significantly impact his life. "My plan was to fly to England immediately after my discharge and try to break into the music scene there. But eventually, I decided to stick around a bit, so I started working as a cashier at Duty Free while also teaching music. At my job at Ben Gurion Airport, I met my first wife, who also worked there. She moved from Russia as a Jew during the big immigration wave of '92, but according to halacha, they are not Jewish. Back then, that issue didn’t matter to us at all.

"We met in 2004 and decided to marry in Cyprus. During that period, I worked at the airport as a ground steward and in my free time, taught music and participated in various band projects. In 2011, we moved to London, and my whole goal was to distance myself as much as possible from Israeli and Jewish things. By then, I already had three albums in English and wanted to succeed with my music abroad, perform, and work with well-known people. Shortly after moving, I began working as a travel agent and performed in venues at night. Meanwhile, I played in other artists’ projects and constantly tried to break through. Life was comfortable overall. We started thinking about having children, and then I experienced divine providence that changed my life.

From Studying Buddhist Texts in Thailand to a Jerusalem Yeshiva​

"Suddenly, inexplicably," Admon says, "I started having severe existential thoughts. Questions like: 'What am I doing in the world, what’s all this for, what’s the purpose of my life, why am I not just jumping out of the window?' I went through a very intense internal inquiry. I found it hard to sleep at night. I didn’t understand why I was doing what I was doing. I thought to myself: 'Even if I succeed, become famous and rich, what’s it all for?' Suddenly, the thought of 'if there’s no creator and we just die and that’s it' scared and occupied me immensely. Because of these thoughts, I embarked on a deep spiritual psychological search and, like many Jews, searched everywhere except Judaism.

Daniel Admon (Photo: Chaya Sara Gestetner)

"I explored Islam, Christianity, Buddhism, and other religions. For instance, when I was in Thailand, I read a book by Buddha, got into it, and it spoke about spirituality, but it didn’t provide a complete answer. I didn’t grasp from the content why I live. It didn’t reach the depth. After a period of searching, Hashem blessed me and performed great kindness, real miracles, showing me unequivocally that my place is in Judaism and not only is it the most suitable place for me, but it also obligates me.

"One incident of special divine providence I witnessed was when I said to Hashem: 'I understand You exist, that You control the world, that You created me and hear me now, and I truly want to connect and get closer to You, but I feel I can’t do it alone. You must send someone to help me.' It was a prayer that truly came from my heart. During that time, I worked at a travel agency, and one day, the CEO told me that our office lease was ending and the property owners decided not to renew it, so we were moving to a new office and he wanted me to be in charge of the move.

"I told him I’d do it, took the address from him, I looked it up on Google and saw nearby there was a Chabad house. At that moment, I understood it was a sign from Hashem. A direct answer to what I had asked for. That very night, I went to the Chabad house, and the rabbi who opened the door for me is my rabbi to this day. He introduced me to a world of Torah and mitzvot in a very wise and gentle way. At first, I wanted to dive into it intensely, and he tempered and calmed me down.

"I returned to religious observance at 29 and felt like I wasted many years on unimportant things, so at the beginning of my return, I was frantically enthusiastic. I experienced extremely high spiritual lights. Until then, I knew almost nothing about Judaism, and suddenly I saw the light, so I wanted to do everything and do it the best. I was exposed to so much information and new things all at once. I was very confused. For example, I tried to study the Talmud and couldn’t. Thank God, my rabbi guided and directed me, and slowly things settled. Over time, I understood more and more what it was about, and I decided to take on this commitment. Once I made that decision, my life changed drastically. After that decision, everything looked different."

I Apologize

"As time passed, I took on more and more things I learned," Admon says, "like kashrut and Shabbat, but at this stage, I still didn’t know that according to halacha I wasn’t allowed to stay with my wife. Slowly, very delicately, the rabbi began talking to me about it, and I also suddenly felt it was no longer relevant. It was a very strong conflict. We had been together for 13 years, and our relationship was good, but suddenly, out of nowhere, I flipped. I changed. And I felt very guilty because of it.

"Meanwhile, I continued taking on more things, and at some point, I stopped eating her food. The issue of separation occasionally came up in our conversations, but nothing was definitive. I was truly torn. It took some time, but one morning I mustered up the courage and left. I walked out of our house and left everything for her. Before I left, I told her it was over, that I needed to leave, and that I apologize. There was a lot of crying. And I just left. It was really, really hard. Hashem performed a great kindness for me, helping me get through it peacefully.

"From there, as I mentioned, I went to live with my rabbi. Hashem blessed me with a rabbi who took me in like family. Holidays, Shabbatot, everything with him. He taught me how a Jew lives, bought me the four species, and at some point, even appointed me as his assistant. Additionally, one of the things the rabbi helped me with was related to playing music. As soon as I returned to religious observance, I stopped playing music. I thought it wouldn’t work. I thought to myself that being a Jew who doesn’t know the difference between a Mishnah and the Talmud or their importance, it didn’t make sense to spend my time on playing music. So, for three years, I only studied Torah and didn’t play at all.

"Music is something very intrinsic to me. And I couldn’t really keep myself happy without it. It put me in a low mood. Luckily, my rabbi noticed this and told me it’s not good that I’m not playing. He even showed me a talk by the Lubavitcher Rebbe saying that if a person has a particular talent, they have an obligation to use it. When I returned to writing and playing, I felt for the first time I wanted to write in Hebrew. It was hard for me, so I just started composing verses from Tehillim, but I didn’t feel strong or talented enough for it.

"To write in Hebrew, I understood that I needed to listen to Israeli and Jewish music, and it was a period where I was extraordinarily moved by music. Suddenly, Hebrew songs spoke to me so strongly. Eviatar Banai, Yonatan Razel, Shuli Rand. And this period changed all my creative work. New worlds opened up before me. You can see these directions in my latest songs, produced by Shachar Kaufman, who accompanies me step by step.

"Parallel to my development in Jewish music, I wanted to start a new, Jewish, and kosher relationship. My rabbi knew me and knew that marrying too quickly wouldn’t be good. I needed to go through some things. I waited for my divorce to be recognized by the authorities in England, and when I was ready, my rabbi allowed me to start dating for marriage. I spent a year and a half in shidduchim, a very difficult year filled with many prayers and pleas to Hashem. Later, by divine providence, I met my wife, and we dated for several months. Just before the onset of coronavirus, we decided we wanted to get married. Thank Hashem, the wedding was a few weeks ago, and I am very happy and grateful to Hashem for blessing me to live a Jewish family life, to establish a kosher home. I went through a lot to get to where I am now, but the main thing is that I got there."