by Carol Reiman
~ The month of Elul comes round again, time to prepare for what comes next. Yom Kippur melodies rise, twist, turn in on themselves. Time to look in on my self, to find the familiar in a new way, to find my marker in the year.
Drawn to water for clarity of mind, sitting by brook or sea returns me to calming rhythm. Rushing thoughts ebb and flow through my meditation. As the currents go their ways, all settles into place.
In the water space, my boundaries blur; I am a dot in something big, feeling a depth within. Mixing old and new, waters swirl. Gushing forth, hope lifts me up above the surface, setting me once more upon the shore.
For those who are parched–the tree, the ground, the bird, the soul–I wish the fading of thirst, the finding of life, love and joy. What Tashlich may I take on to scatter, rid, erase ignorance and fear?
How could we have stumbled so, bruising on the stones? Did we not see the edge, not reach out to save another? How much farther must we go, before we make mirage oasis?
Clear the fog; see, here, the ripple of the stone, the hand to grasp, the bridge from me to you and out beyond. The ancient words, the group as one, the will to try. Another go, another year, and so we build them all.
Carol Reiman thinks a lot about water intake for her mother, her cat, and herself in the Somerville/Arlington area. She also works on making academic resources accessible in Dorchester.