Features
Brooke Zelcer offers a novel approach to spiritual healing

By BERNIE BELLAN Brooke Zelcer is a 28-year-old woman who had a typical Winnipeg Jewish upbringing growing up. The daughter of Hartley and Polly Zelcer, Brooke grew up in Garden City, she says and went to Gray Academy until the end of Grade 9. After that she went to the University of Winnipeg Collegiate, followed by her acquiring two bachelor’s degrees at the U of W – one in environmental sciences, and one in international development.
While she was in university, Brooke says, she “did a practicum with an organization called ‘Food Matters Manitoba’. “I ended up working up north on Shamattawa First Nations Reserve,” she explains. “We did horticultural therapy and agricultural sustainability as well. It was there where I started to find my passion working with individuals rather than on a community basis.”
After that, Brooke began working at the North End Women’s Centre on Selkirk Avenue for several years. “While I was there I started on my masters in psychology,” she says (which she subsequently completed).
Brooke says she worked her way up at that centre and started working in a new government funded program, providing counselling to women who had been in the sex trade – “a lot of hands on, trauma based work.”
“It was quite intense, but incredibly rewarding,” she observes.
After her time at the women’s centre, Brooke began working at another organization that also provided counselling services. In time though, she realized that what she really wanted to do was go off on her own.
First though, she wanted to acquire the type of training that she was planning on putting into effect when she would be working with clients on her own.
She explains that her goal was to train in breathwork therapy and also as a holistic health and nutrition coach. In order to be certified as a practitioner in both fields, Brooke says she took a year of training in both areas.
Ultimately, she says, what she wanted to do is connect with people in a “mind, body, and soul” approach.
Beginning in August 2021, Brooke says, she began working on her own. Her clients, she says, were former clients of hers from her previous place of employment. Her supervisor allowed her to take on clients that she already had so that they would have continuity in their relationship with Brooke as their counsellor.
“But,” she observes, “the pandemic had hit and I had to shift the way I was doing things – going online, forming new connections.”
“It was tough for sure,” she says, “but it opened my eyes to doing other things.”
In time, Brooke found herself doing therapy and breathwork sessions with her clients – but through Zoom, rather than in person.
Zoom, she explains, “has the technology where I can share my audio, where I can also talk. I can also see my clients, watch their breath, make sure everything is okay. A lot of times people may become emotional so it is important for me to be able to see where they are at and hold the proper space for them.”
In addition to breathwork, Brooke says, she offers a range of services, including mental health therapy, and holistic health and nutrition coaching
“I’m offering them together through different programs that I have created” she notes, “but also separately if that’s what people are more interested in.”
I ask her what her website is called?
Brooke answers that it’s called“www.merkaba-healing.com.”
I say to her that I know that “merkaba” means “carriage” in Hebrew. I ask her how she arrived at that particular name?
She says that it does indeed come from Hebrew, but the “merkaba” symbol is also a universal geometric symbol, representing the duality of everything in life. “Merkaba symbolizes the unity of opposites. It marries light and dark, feminine and masculine energy, the material world and the spiritual realm… the power of merkaba has the ability to elevate our consciousness, heal, and bring balance, harmony, and light into our lives”.
(After our phone interview, I took a look at Brooke’s website. Here’s what the introduction says:
“Hi! I’m Brooke Zelcer, a certified Mental Health Counsellor, Breathwork Therapist, and Holistic Health and Nutrition Coach based in Winnipeg, Canada. I dedicate my time and energy in holding sacred space for those who are seeking to heal by embracing their whole, unique, and divine self. I am passionate about bringing Mind, Body, and Soul into the healing journey as I believe that in order to sustain balanced wellness, we must gently lean into the darker parts of ourselves so that we can embody our light. I am here to support and guide you as you align on your path.”)
“Breathwork is typically an hour-long session,” she says, “where the client lies down in a comfortable position – maybe with a pillow under their head and a blanket for comfort. An eye mask is also really helpful because it’s very important to keep your eyes closed during a session.”
She continues: “I use a methodologically sequenced breath in order to elicit a certain experience unique to a client’s needs. Combining purposeful inhalation, exhalation, and breath retention is really all it is. I use positive verbal cueing and personally curated playlists to add to the journey. The whole experience takes you to a transcendental state at the very end and that is where your conscious and your subconscious meet, and that is where so much healing can happen.
“That is often where people can experience spiritual awakening, where they have beautiful messages of healing from their higher selves. Some people have met loved ones on the other side, and some people just find it incredibly relaxing.”
I ask Brooke what kind of results she’s had since she’s started doing what she does on her own? I say to her that I imagine this is an ongoing process for her clients – meaning it’s not something where they can say they’ve reached the end of a process.
“People come back for different things,” Brooke says. “Many people just want to work through their specific issues – particularly healing trauma.”
“My goal is to meet my clients where they are at. No judgment. No expectations. Just show up as you are and I will do my best to meet you there. This type of personal work is not meant to be easy, so I do my best to help my clients find a bit of flow and ease throughout their healing journey”.
She rattles off a list of areas where the kind of therapy in which she engages provides real benefit: “PTSD, anxiety, depression, bi polar disorder, borderline personality disorder.”
“The kind of results I’ve gotten,” Brooke adds, “vary from person to person, but I’ve had some really amazing results, especially through breathwork. Talk therapy is amazing and we all kind of know what that is and what a therapy session would be like, but when it comes to breathwork – I’ve worked with men in their sixties, women in their seventies, I’ve worked with teenagers – and they’ve come out with a new found love for life, finding peace within themselves, and not having to look for it externally.”
As far as how much Brooke’s services cost, her website does provide full details about the types of services she offers and the rates for the various services. If you would like to know more about Brooke Zelcer visit www.merkaba-healing.com or find her on Instagram @_merkaba.healing_
Features
I Speak “Jew”

By MARK E. PAULL I grew up in Montreal. Born in 1956. Anglo by birth, sure. But that never quite fit. I don’t speak “Anglo” the way they mean it. My real language is Jew.
And I don’t mean Hebrew or Yiddish. I mean the language of reading the room before you enter it. The code-switching, shame-dodging, laugh-first-so-they-don’t-pounce dialect we pick up early. It’s a language built on side-eyes and timing and ten generations of tension.
I speak French—enough to make myself understood. Enough to charm a dinner table, crack a joke, get someone’s uncle to nod. I’m not fluent, but I’m fast. Doesn’t matter. In Quebec, language isn’t grammar—it’s inheritance. It’s who your grandfather cursed out in a hardware store.
To the Francophones, I’ll never be one of them. My accent betrays me before I say a word. I’m just an Anglo. And not even that, really. Because when the lens tightens, when they look closely, I’m just un Juif. Just a Jew.
And to the Anglos? Same thing. I can wear the suit, speak the Queen’s English, order the wine properly—still a Jew. Even in rooms where I “pass,” I don’t belong. I’m not invited in to be myself. I’m invited in to behave. To be safe. To not say the thing that makes the air stiff.
We’re the only people still called by our religion. No one says “Orthodox” for a Greek. No one says “Vatican” for an Italian. No one calls a Black man “Baptist” before they see his face. But “Jew”? That sticks. That’s the label. Before passport. Before language. Before hello.
I’ve mostly made peace with that. But there’s still this ache—knowing you can live your whole life in a place and never really be from there.
Let me tell you a story.
We had this block party once—the folding-table, paper-plate kind. Kids zipping by on scooters. Music low. Everyone asked to bring something from “your culture.”
The Greek guy brought lemon potatoes and lamb—felt like it came with a side of Byzantine history. The Italians brought two lasagnas—meat and veggie—with basil placed like confetti. The Vietnamese couple brought shrimp rolls that vanished before they hit the table. Even the German guy—built like a fridge—brought bratwurst and a six-pack with gothic lettering.
And then us.
My partner made Moroccan fish. Her grandmother’s recipe. Red with tomatoes, garlic, cumin. Studded with olives and preserved lemon. I brought a bottle of white wine. Dry. Crisp. From the Golan Heights. Not Manischewitz. Not even close.
We laid it out. Someone leaned over: “Moroccan? But I thought you were Jewish.”
We smiled. “We are.”
Then: “So… where’s the brisket? Isn’t Jewish wine supposed to be sweet?”
That’s when it hits you. No matter how long you’ve lived here, how many snowstorms you’ve shoveled through, you’re still explaining yourself. Still translating your presence.
Because they don’t know. They don’t know Jews came from everywhere. That “Jewish” isn’t one dish—it’s a whole map. That we had Jews in Morocco before there was even a France. That some of us grew up on kreplach, some on kefta. That some of our mothers sang in Yiddish, others in Arabic, and some in both—depending on who was knocking.
They don’t know. And worse—they don’t ask.
And that’s the part that gets you. Not the slurs. Not the graffiti. Not even the occasional muttered cliché. It’s the blankness. The shrug. The image they already have of you that’s built out of dreidels and sitcoms.
“Jewish” as nostalgic. As novelty. Something they saw once on a bagel.
Sometimes, when those questions come, I float. One version of me walks out. Another turns into a mouse. One turns into a Frisbee. Just gone. Not mad. Just tired.
Because being a Jew isn’t cute. It’s not nostalgic.
It’s ancient.
Before Montreal.
Before France.
Before Poland. Before Spain.
Before pogroms.
Before ghettos.
Before Hitler.
Before even the word Europe.
We were there.
Go back to the 5th century. 2nd century.
Go back to Jesus—our kid, by the way.
Go further—Babylon. Persia.
Keep going—Temple. Exile. Wandering.
And still, after all that, I’m at a table in Quebec explaining why our fish has cumin in it.
It’s almost funny. If it didn’t wear you down a little.
I’m not looking for pity. This isn’t a complaint.
I’m proud. I know what I carry. I walk into any room with five thousand years behind me. I come from people who kept the lights on through every kind of darkness—and laughed through it, too.
But sometimes, I just wish I didn’t have to explain so much.
All I want is to put down my dish…
…and hear someone say:
“That smells amazing. Tell me the story.”
That’s all.
Mark E. Paull, C.A.C. is a Certified ADHD Coach – IPHM, CMA, IIC&M, CPD Certified
Writer | Lived-Experience Advocate | Type 1 Diabetic since 1967
He has been published in:
The New York Times, The Globe and Mail, Folklife Magazine, Times of Israel, CHADD’s Attention Magazine, The Good Men Project
Features
At 104, Besse Gurevich last original resident of Shaftesbury Park Retirement Residence

By MYRON LOVE At 104, Besse Gurevich is the last of the original residents of Shaftesbury Park Retirement Residence. She may also be the oldest member of our Jewish community.
Although her vision and her hearing have diminished considerably, her mind and memory are still intact. A few weeks back, this writer sat down with her in her suite as she recalled a life filled with highs and lows and her many contributions to her community, both in Winnipeg and Fort William before that.
The daughter of Jack and Rebecca Avit, her life’s journey began in 1921 in a home on Carlton Street near Ellice Avenue, near her father’s furniture store. He later operated a cap factory.
When she was ten, the family – she had two brothers and a sister – moved to Manitoba Avenue in the old North End. “My father had put a deposit down on a house on Scotia,” she recalls. “But my parents didn’t feel that the neighbourhood was Jewish enough.”
Her schooling included Peretz School and, like so many of her generation, St. John’s Tech (as it was known back then.) “I was actually supposed to be going to Isaac Newton for high school,” she says. We were living on the wrong side of the tracks for St. John’s. After one day at Isaac Newton, I found a way to transfer to St. John’s.”
In 1940, 19-year-old Bessie Avit married Jack Gurevich, a young man from Fort William. The wedding was marred though, by the sudden, untimely passing of her father.
Following the wedding, Besse moved with her new husband to Fort William where Jack Gurevich worked in retail clothing sales. “We lived in Fort William for 20 years,” she says. “Our three children (Judy, Richard and Howard) were born there.”
She recalls that there were about 200 Jewish families – including her sister and one of her brothers for some years – in town, during the time she lived there. “We were very well known in the community,” she recalls. “I was involved in everything.”
Her community activism continued after the family’s return to her home town. While Jack went to work as a salesman for Western Glove Works, Besse became an indefatigable community volunteer. At one time or another, she served as vice-president of ORT, Hadassah and National Council of Jewish Women in Winnipeg. She was also a long time B’nai Brith member.
In the business world, the highlight of her career was the building of Linden Woods. “I became involved in real estate development for a time,” she recalls. “I was hired by Genstar to develop Linden Woods. The company estimated that it would take about 20 years to complete. I got it done in two.”
She also taught hair dressing for a while. “I worked with many young Jewish brides,” she says.
Recent years have not been kind to Besse Gurevich. Her beloved husband, Jack, died in 2016 – after almost 65 years of marriage. Older son, Richard, passed away in Vancouver in 2018 and, most recently –six months ago – younger son, Howard, followed. She notes that there were 200 mourners at Howard’s funeral.
(Howard Gurevich was in marketing for many years before turning his talents to the art world. In recent years, he was best known for Gurevich Fine Art in the Exchange District and his support of local artists.)
Besse Gurevich celebrated her 100th birthday – which took place at the height of the Covid shutdown – quietly.
While she used to enjoy reading. she is unable to do so any more. She can still listen to television.
And while she has few family members to visit her any more, she does have a group of friends interesting enough from the local theatre scene. For many years, she was a close friend of the late Doreen Brownstone, one of the leading figures in theatre in Winnipeg for more than half a century. Besse became part of the group that would visit Doreen every week and, since Doreen passed on three years ago, the members of the group have continued to visit Besse on a weekly basis.
Features
Winnipeg author’s first novel gripping tale of romance, action and intrigue, set in 15th century Spain and Morocco

By MYRON LOVE “The Chronos of Andalucia”, a novel just released by first-time author Merom Toledano, is a historical romance set in late 15th century Spain and Morocco, filled with passion, action, intrigue, unexpected twists and turns – and, of course, with the requirement of any medieval story – a quest.
The easy-to-read, 190 page book follows the adventures of Catalina, a young woman living by her wits on the streets of Granada in the year 1487, (just after the Christian armies of Ferdinand and Isabella had recaptured all of Spain from the Moors) – while trying to evade the agents of the Inquisition, who had murdered her Jewish mother and Christian father 10 years earlier. She was left with an insatiable desire to learn about astronomy, along with a mysterious map and an astrolabe (an instrument formerly used to make astronomical measurements) – the importance of which will only be unveiled if she can get to the city of Tangier in Morocco.
Early on, there is a reference to Abraham Zacuto, a prominent Spanish rabbi famed for his knowledge of astronomy and astrology.
The action begins when she has a casual interaction with a former Spanish soldier, Diego. When the forces of the Inquisition approach, she flees with the soldier – who is also her love interest – and who helps her to escape. They turn for help to a childhood friend of Catalina’s – Roberta, a nun, who helps them on their perilous journey to Tangier – a journey that includes being captured by pirates, surviving a shipwreck, being separated for a long period of time and, of course, finding each other again and realizing the success of their joint quest.
In his writing, the author paints vivid word pictures of the different characters and beautifully invokes the colour, sights, sounds and scents of the time and the places.
What I found truly remarkable about the writing of “The Chronos of Andalucia” is that English is not Merom Toledano’s first language. The Israeli-born author – he grew up near Haifa – came to Winnipeg with his young family just eight years ago.
“I have had this book in mind for several years now,” says the satellite engineer whose working career takes him to many different parts of the world.
He notes that he has always felt a connection to Spain, Spanish music and literature – a reflection of his family’s modern origins in that country. His great-grandparents, he relates, lived in Toledo – hence the family name, Toledano. His parents lived in Meknes in Morocco while his father attended university in Tangier before making aliyah.
Toledano just published “The Chronos of Andalucia” in April on Amazon. He reports that the book – which is available here at McNally Robinson – has been selling well –close to 100 copies – with orders coming from a bookstore chain in England, a bookstore in Denmark, and one in Italy.
“I have had between 30 and 40 positive reviews so far,” he reports.
Toledano adds that he envisages “The Chronos of Andalucia” to be the first in a series – a la the writer Danielle Steele. He is already working on a sequel – which is hinted at the end of “The Chronos” and, he reports, he is establishing his own independent publishing operation.