The letters of our thoughts are the ideas present in our mind before they come to realization . . . Thoughts that are, yet not felt . . . The words of the subconscious . . . of the soul . . .


Monday, October 12, 2009

Hit The Road Jack

Dancing on Colorado College campus during sukkos mivtzoyim

Every year on Simchas Torah, I become rather sad - not sad in a sad way, but more of a nostalgic type of sad. Somwhere between singing Ashreichem Yisroel (sisu v'simchu) and Ata V'chartanu for the the last time in mincha, it strikes me how the progression has built up and ended.

On Rosh Chodesh Elul we start saying L'dovid, we begin to blow the shofar, and we say extra chapters of tehilim. Before Rosh Hashana we stop blowing, after yom kippur we stop saying tehillim, and on Hoshana Rabba we stop saying l'dovid.
Simchas Torah bursts forth in a blaze of energy . . . then ends just before things become too intense.   

This year was no different. As I chanced a glance out the window to a snowy Colorado Springs that looked far more at home for Chanuka then for Simchas Torah, I reflected on the month. On the ups and the downs, the highs and the lows: Of closing my eyes tight by Tekias Shofar, of dancing victoriously by Napoleon's march during ne'ila, of getting dozens of students on campus to shake Lulav and Esrog.
It's powerful and heady, it's exhausting and stressful . . . Every year I fear it before it comes, and miss it when it's gone.
Because, when all is said and done . . . now I need to go back into the world. I need to start to earn (more) money, I need to work out my learning schedule -get a fresh start on dayanus, finish shechita, learn more chassidus.
In a certain way I'm lucky. My birthday falls out on the Fourth of Cheshvan - less then two weeks after Simchas Torah - serving as a buffer between the buzz of the previous month and the humdrum of the next.
But still I miss it. Still I yearn.
Our inn is on the street without locks, you can come and do business.
  'What do you have?'
  'תקעו בחדש . בחדש השביעי . שובה ישראל'

Now it's time to unpack the bags we bundled in the inn . . . and do business with the schora we've brought.

Oh, and by the way, my Esrog was way bigger than yours.

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