Funny story: So Yom Kippur is perhaps the most somber and important day of the Jewish year; it’s the Sabbath of Sabbaths, the Day of Atonement, the day our names our sealed in the Book of Life for one more year.
And Yom Kippur is tomorrow.
But my calendar (don’t trust calendars) implied it began last night, so I began fasting, trying to think of Yom Kippur things, and then I realized, today isn’t even Yom Kippur.
On Monday I indirectly witnessed a motorcycle accident, and it left me feeling entrenched in shock. I wrote about my experience and my loss of words, my loss of feeling, when I learned the man had not survived. Yet still I felt numb when I woke up yesterday morning, and then I wondered if I should’ve posted about it at all–here I was, turning tragedy into an opportunity to increase page views and site traffic.
But it wasn’t like that: I was relating an experience that had a profound impact on me, that had left me in a state of apprehensive uncertainty, and sharing it helped me process it. On Monday night, as I typed out the last words of my post, it came to an end only because I’d written up to the point when I sat at my computer and started writing–but the story itself was still incomplete. It ended too soon. Too abruptly.
The year is 2014 and the day is one. I’ve spent the last few days looking back and looking forward, and I think I’ve got a handle on what I’m planning this year–but all that can wait.
I was perusing Facebook last night (so productive, I know) and reading people’s New Year resolutions, and I just couldn’t help myself: I was shaking my head in disappointment. I gave up on “resolutions” years ago when I realized the word itself implies fixing what’s broken as opposed to reaching new levels of personal growth, but even overlooking that, I found people’s plans for 2014 lack the kind of focus that’s obtainable.
Yes, yes, I’m happy you “want to be the best you can be and have a great year,” but what the hell does that mean?
This was a long week. From late-night scares with our animals to working early the next day and heat so hot it’s not sexy, all my energy has left me. It started with high energy: Staying at my boyfriend’s, visiting best friends, and attending my transfer orientation at NC State. Since then, I’ve been exhausted. Too tired to sleep. Too tired to write. Too weary to will myself into anything other than sloth. It’s somewhat sickening how little I’ve done–and yet under this oppressive heat, even the tiniest actions seem to take the greatest effort.
It’s Shabbat again. I haven’t been restful one bit–not other than an afternoon nap, at any rate. I helped at SOAR this morning and met some enthusiastic new students. I did some shopping for essentials I’ll need on campus. And I even drove a bit. It’s no wonder I needed a nap. Yet as they say, no rest for the wicked.
And according to this teaching, I’m especially wicked.