Erev Yom Kippur (or the eve before the surf)
It is sometimes agonizing, life, isn’t it. The thin balance. The joy, the ecstasy, the pain and the concern. A cornered turned and suddenly there’s a different emotion. Await like a mugger, with a plan. Wanting your purse of joy. I was reading about a friend’s brother’s death. So sudden, so shocking, but yet almost inevitable. A school friend died last week. I hadn’t seen him for over 20 year, yet I wanted to call him and ask what had happened. We swat at these frayed emotions every day. Paws swiping wildly. Constant search for the happiness and kindness and softness. I know a woman who is always hard. She approaches everything in life in a hard, angry, rough way. It has always fascinated me that there is no element of softness to her. Maybe only some of us are soft. And there is a difference between softness and vulnerability. We are all vulnerable. We all have that point on our joints where when hit by a hammer the weakness will show. I sometimes feel too hard. With my children. That I am prickly. That my own skies of emotion come poking out and can hurt. I hate hardness. It bothers me so deeply and essentially. And so I wonder about the thin balance. And whether I could be more mindful. That if I wish I wasn’t prickly then I could be softer by just being mindful to that desire. Tomorrow is Yom Kippur. We have decided not to fast to reflect, but rather the participate in the activities that we believe fill our book of life. I will surf. For the 3rd year in a row. I want to sit in the water and let it dissolve my prickles, so that I enter into the new year soft, and kind and loving. Just as I wish I would be.