Atonement
Tomorrow night marks the beginning of the holiest day in the Jewish Calendar, Yom Kippur. For 25 hours between the haunting melody of Kol Nidre where we annul all vows, to the spiritual and physical agony of the Neilah service, we will fast and pray.
I have been fasting on Yom Kippur since I was eleven. Although I wasn't required to do so until 12, all the cool girls were doing it a year early. In all of these many years of fasting on Yom Kippur, I have had years when I have felt moved to repentance, and other years when I have been moved merely to guilt. I have had years of breezing through the day, and others of suffering. I have trembled in the face of the almighty, and I have snoozed. I have felt prepared to confront myself, and I have been caught unaware.
And this year?
It is strange. While I have not actively sought forgiveness or accounted for my sins, my sins have been paying me visits at unexpected times. Ugly, painful memories have been elbowing themselves into my consciousness, encroaching on mundane daydreams. Is this a message from HaKadosh Baruch Hu or random neural activity? Is it my soul begging to be purged of its soiled spots? I have no idea.
These days I pray for pretty basic things: the health and well-being of my children and family, peace in Israel and the world, and a sense of humor and perspective. I'm also rooting for straight A's for my legal eagle, but I think the good lord is more likely to listen to his entreaties, so I don't push it. My husband can pray for his own A's.
To my friends and family: for all of the times I have been thoughtless or disrespectful, I am sorry. For hurting you, disappointing you, or letting you down, please forgive me. For not being there for you when you've needed me, please accept my apologies. For being self-absorbed and petty, I beg forgiveness.
You are in my thoughts and prayers every day.
Have an easy fast, and may you be sealed in the book of life.
I have been fasting on Yom Kippur since I was eleven. Although I wasn't required to do so until 12, all the cool girls were doing it a year early. In all of these many years of fasting on Yom Kippur, I have had years when I have felt moved to repentance, and other years when I have been moved merely to guilt. I have had years of breezing through the day, and others of suffering. I have trembled in the face of the almighty, and I have snoozed. I have felt prepared to confront myself, and I have been caught unaware.
And this year?
It is strange. While I have not actively sought forgiveness or accounted for my sins, my sins have been paying me visits at unexpected times. Ugly, painful memories have been elbowing themselves into my consciousness, encroaching on mundane daydreams. Is this a message from HaKadosh Baruch Hu or random neural activity? Is it my soul begging to be purged of its soiled spots? I have no idea.
These days I pray for pretty basic things: the health and well-being of my children and family, peace in Israel and the world, and a sense of humor and perspective. I'm also rooting for straight A's for my legal eagle, but I think the good lord is more likely to listen to his entreaties, so I don't push it. My husband can pray for his own A's.
To my friends and family: for all of the times I have been thoughtless or disrespectful, I am sorry. For hurting you, disappointing you, or letting you down, please forgive me. For not being there for you when you've needed me, please accept my apologies. For being self-absorbed and petty, I beg forgiveness.
You are in my thoughts and prayers every day.
Have an easy fast, and may you be sealed in the book of life.
posted by law school widow at 9:26 PM
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