One of the beauties about Judaism is that you get to have 2 New Years. 2 parties. 2 sets of resolutions you have no willpower to keep. And we are currently in the middle of the first one. We have just rung in year 5773 which makes me... 3794 in Jewish years. AND still single. Oy.
This is the time for contemplation and renewal. Time to reflect on the past year, evaluate ourselves and strive to do better next year. Like learning Arabic and giving that Pilates DVD a chance (poor DVD. It's getting so much airtime it really should have its own blog) And being a better girlfriend, sister, friend and an aunt. No, we'll take that back. This year I don't want to be a better girlfriend- this year I want to be an outstanding wife!
This self-assessment is all the more poignant in the light of the 10 days we have ahead of us. Rosh Hashanah (that's new year in Hebrew. A language I find to be the sexiest out there. Go figure. Maybe that last concussion I had as a child really was one too many.) starts a 10-day period that leads to the Big One: Yom Kippur.
Tradition has it that during those 10 days God surveys all of us and takes notes. He has 3 books (those archaic things that we all had to do with before iPads and Exel spreadsheets): the book of life, the book of death an then the third one. Ones (S)he feels have succeeded in their quest to be a better man will have their names written in the good book. The ones that failed will go into the other one. But since we are fickle little creatures and (S)he has mercy and wisdom beyond imagination, most people don't neatly fit into either one of those categories. For them, there's the third book. They will be given another year to, well, get their shit together.
At the end of those 10 days, at the service that concludes the Yom Kippur service, shofar is blown as the sign of the jury being back with the verdict and the books being closed.
So, as is customary to say: May your names be written in the good book!
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