Autumn sneaks in in the desert. Not with changing leaves, but with the shifting angle of the sun. With a hint of coolness in the mornings and evenings, while the days continue to burn.
Autumn sneaks in in the desert.
So too, Rosh Hashanah, the new year, sneaks up on me, and Yom Kippur, the day of atonement that follows it.
All summer–and in the desert, this desert, the summers are long–I long for change. Yet as the light shifts, as the holidays come, some part of me always says, Not yet. I’m not ready yet.
But change comes ready or not, and sometimes I think that’s why I need the new year. To force me to see this change, this shift. To acknowledge it, with trepidation and with joy, as I otherwise might not. To move mindfully into it, whether I’m ready to move or not.
The heat ebbs. The shadows lengthen. We are here.
We are here, and the year is new.
Shanah tovah. A good season of change for us all.