16 Elul 5775
Empty Elul page.
How can this be?
Where is the angst?
The thorny pricks of resentment?
The struggle, the listing of shortcomings?
The long looks in those fun-house inner mirrors?
I got nothin’.
This year I only sense the Mystery. Appropriate for the Days of Awe.
Could it be that the prior years of Elul struggle were stepping stones to this day?
If it had not been for our tradition of Elul, these messy struggles would not have been put into a neat monthly box each year. But they were.
The years tell us what the days cannot.
This year, a miracle of sorts: The past is the past.
I got nothin’ and rest in the Empty, in the Mercy, awaiting the sound of the shofar.
It’s going to be a new year.
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