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I write, mostly to keep my head from exploding. It threatens to do that a lot. My blog is the pixelated version of all the voices in my head. I tend to dive into what connects me to God, my community, my family and my doubt. I do a lot of searching, not as much finding. I’m good with that. I have learned, finally, to live comfortably in the gray. In the meantime, I wrestle with God, and my doubt and my joy.

Saturday, May 6, 2017

Omer. Day 25, Shabbat

I am watching Shabbat fill my window. It's beautiful, watching the sky go from pale blue grey to a deep and deliberate indigo. There's a string of street lights horizonward. I would prefer stars.

The view is quite unfamiliar. The situation is quite unfamiliar. It is completely out of my choosing. My comfort zone is a million miles away. Any pretense of control I have is with the comfort zone -long ago and far away.

I'm not comfortable, being without a net. I like my illusion of control - especially when I can fool even myself and pretend that I've given it up, my sense of control. I am very brave, very sage in those moments. I can close my eyes then,  and whirl like a dervish on s tight rope, because I know, in my secret heart, I cannot fall because there is no rope.

I forget, in those mad and twirling moments,  it's not rope that is the danger; it's the ground.

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