Rav Aryeh Lebowitz's Blueprint for Succesful Torah Learning After Yeshiva
Limmud Yomi: Stages, Sharing, Sweating and More!
I was recently listening to a Q&A with Rav Aryeh Lebowitz, recorded a few months ago (Link here, at 13:20. part of the Answering YUr Question series.) One of the questions was about different limmud yomi programs, and I found Rav Lebowitz’s answer packed with important points.
I transcribed the answer using Sofer.ai, pulled the parts that felt most relevant for Bnei Torah in the workforce, rearranged a few sections, and added some of my own notes (including references to relevant Shtark Tank episodes).
Rav Lebowitz was kind enough to review this post and give it his approval.
1) Life Has Stages — Your Learning Has to Adjust
I’m a big fan of yomi limudim.
It’s not necessarily the way guys learn in yeshiva, nor should it necessarily be the way guys learn in yeshiva, because you have a different misgeret in yeshiva. You have something called morning seder and you have a bekius seder and you have a halacha seder so you have a misgeret in terms of time. But once you get past yeshiva years, your misgeret is not so much time. You need other things to be a program for you.
And having an amount that you have to cover is very very helpful, at least I find it’s very helpful. It’s not a great thing when guys come out of yeshiva thinking that they’re going to learn like they do in yeshiva. I was just talking to Rabbi Isaac Rice about this today, he was telling me that it’s a big avlah when guys come out of yeshiva thinking Simchas Torah has to be exactly the way it was in yeshiva, otherwise it’s a total failure. It shouldn’t be the way it was in Yeshiva because you have children to take care of… there are different stages of life, you have a wife waiting to start lunch and she doesn’t want to start lunch at 3:00 in the afternoon, right? I mean you have different stages of life so there are different things that you do based on different stages of life and things can be meaningful.
So the same is true with limud hatorah. Limud hatorah is is not gonna be the way it was in Yeshiva for most people. So you have to be open to doing a yomi type of limud to sort of keep you on track. It’s a very, very good idea.
This is one of the main themes we discuss on Shtark Tank.
Yeshiva is one stage in the journey. For many of us, it’s a “peak” in terms of time and intensity. But it’s not the finish line, and it’s not the only model for what growth looks like.
Hashem built life with stages. Adapting to new stages is a challenge, but it’s a critical one. This means thinking deeply about how our life can be calibrated around intentional Avodas Hashem. This mindset must be fully compatible with our work and family lives, not an escape from it.
Part of what I’m trying to add to this conversation is: what does Avodas Hashem look like once life gets full?
They don’t teach you how to change diapers in yeshiva. I say that half-joking, but the point is serious: we need a mindset where taking care of our kids, showing up for our wives, and handling normal responsibilities aren’t “distractions from ruchniyus.” They’re part of a full Torah life.
And this plays out in a lot of real questions: What does my Shabbos table look like now? How much should I be learning on a workday? Which minyan makes sense for this season of life? Learning how to switch out of “yeshiva mode” without guilt is a big deal.
[If you haven’t yet listneded to the Shtark Tank with Rav Lebowitz, check it out here]
2) The One Nugget a Day Method
So if you’re gonna do a yomi limud, I would recommend [the following] and I wish, I wish I kept my own advice. Whenever I do keep this advice, it’s a much more meaningful day for me. But I try to recommend try to walk away with a shtikl Torah each day from that limud. And even better than walking away with a shtikl Torah that you’re gonna keep in your mind and that you’ll think about throughout the course of the day, even better than that, repeat it to someone else. If it’s an interesting enough shtikl Torah, you have a raya to some interesting idea in hashkafa or in halacha from the daf yomi, so mention it to someone that day, especially if someone, if it’s someone else who’s doing the daf and it’s practically meaningful to them. And even if it’s not meaningful to them, just the fact that you forced yourself to say it over, that you forced yourself to repeat it, will make it that much more meaningful to you.
This is such a strong approach to learning, especially on a limited schedule.
Here’s how I’d translate it into a simple framework:
First, the “coverage” side: you keep moving. That’s your bekius.
Then, you pull out one idea each day and spend a few minutes understanding it a bit more. That’s your iyun—not “deep lomdus for an hour,” but a small daily push for clarity.
Two things happen when you do that:
1. You pay closer attention while learning, because you’re hunting for something to take with you.
2. You give yourself a daily taste of depth—just enough to feel that you’re not only “getting through,” but actually growing.
This doesn’t have to take long. It can be as simple as reading and highlighting one Artscroll footnote, or sitting with one line for a few minutes during downtime.
And then comes the key step: say it over. Share it with someone. Even a quick voice note counts. The act of repeating it turns it from “something I saw” into “something I own.”
3) You Get Out What You Put In
…I can’t [recommend a specific limmud yomi] because I haven’t tried all of them. [Personally] I do Daf Yomi for many years already... I do Mishnah Yomi for a few years and Mishnah Berurah Yomi for about a year and a half so far… I personally get the most out of the Daf, but I also put the most into the Daf. And that also kind of makes sense, right? Meaning that’s a rule in life: whatever you put the most into, that’s what you’re going to get the most out of.
This part hits hard: what you invest in is usually what pays you back.
There’s a concept called the “IKEA effect”: people value furniture more when they had to assemble it themselves. You can find a similar idea in Chazal, in many different ways—effort creates connection.
And you see this tension in the world of learning programs. A lot of new programs are built around making learning easier and more accessible. That’s not bad. For many people, that’s exactly what keeps them in the game.
But there’s also a place for programs that are demanding: programs that ask you to stretch, review, test, and really commit. There’s a risk of frustration, but there’s also a big reward: that feeling of “I did something hard, and now it’s mine.” Dirshu testing is a strong example of this.
4) Priorities: Not Every Sefer Has the Same Weight
Logically though, logically, and as hypocritical as this might sound, I would think Nach would make the most sense. Because you’re unlikely to learn Nach in a different misgeret. You may learn Nevi’im Rishonim because you remember it from school and it’s easier. Nevi’im Acharonim, as we discussed recently, much much harder to learn through Tehillim, things like that, you learn through Kesuvim, not always so easy. So it’s good to have a misgeret that sort of forces you to learn to learn Nach. It’s also unlikely that you’re ever going to have a chavrusa in Nach. So I would think it would lend itself to a Yomi kind of a misgeret. Now it’s also important to realize like what’s most important to learn.
Look, all of these sefarim are amazing, but like Rav Schachter often points out, that the obligation of Talmud Torah for a Jew is to learn Kol HaTorah Kula. So what does it mean Kol HaTorah Kula? It doesn’t mean every sefer that was ever written. It means Tanach and Divrei Chazal and things like that.
So is Mishnah Berurah and Tanya as important let’s say as Tanach and Talmud Bavli? Probably not, right? Neither of those is... you gotta learn halacha, but you can learn Kitzur Shulchan Aruch, who says it has to be Mishnah Berurah? You have to learn some amount at some point of hashkafa, does it have to be Tanya? Tanya is a very fundamental work in Chassidus, but there are many holy Jews that lived before the Baal HaTanya that lived very full, fulfilled lives and knew a lot of important Torah. And after the Baal HaTanya also, by the way, they never opened the Tanya in their life.
So it’s very enriching, it’s a wonderful, wonderful sefer. It’s probably something you will pick up at some point in your life, but to say that as a Yomi it’s as important to do to make sure that you cover that sefer, you have to prioritize what’s most important for a Jew to learn.
Two ideas here feel especially important.
When time is limited, we have to prioritize. It would be amazing to learn everything. But most of us can’t. Even back in yeshiva, I felt this. Torah is so wide that even with a full day of learning, you can end up spreading yourself thin—doing “a little of everything,” but not building something solid.
Once you accept that you need to choose, the next question is obvious: how do I decide what to focus on?
Rav Lebowitz brings in Rav Schachter’s framing: what we’re obligated to learn. That word matters.
Of course we want learning that we enjoy. Chazal speak a lot about the sweetness of Torah. But enjoyment can’t be the only compass. There also has to be a sense of duty.
The Torah we’re learning isn’t only inspiration. It’s also instruction: halacha, responsibility, and requirements. Therefore, we must not loose sight of this in our learning itself. In addition to sweetness and inspiration, there is also duty and obligation.


