On may 11 1992 I finished my Israeli army service – o happy day. I don’t
recall a date so prominently awaited for in my entire
life – days counted, wall calendar marked, eager eager.
Now it’s a dim memory.
Counting towards a great release, or an awaited reunion, a graduation, a celebration – it’s usually the happy things that we mark ahead on our calendars. The less pleasant momentous dates just happen. When I started counting this year, six weeks ago, I imagined the count as the pilgrimage to the beloved – as written about by Maimonides and other mystics. Imagine a long awaited meeting – a reunion – with your beloved. Would you not count the days and nights until that meeting? that’s what arriving at Sinai on night 50 is about: the reunion is with what call the beloved, and some called God, and some call Higher Self. etc. And you want to arrive to this meeting at your best – mind, body, soul. So you count and prep and climb the mountain and learn lessons along the way. Maybe its about the destination and maybe its about the journey. and both.
all countdowns lead to the same desire: a temporary pin on the map announcing ‘you are here now’.
and then you move on. from Yesod to Malchut – chakra to chakra, rung by rung, up Jacob’s ladder into the Chesed of Malchut – the great kindness of living in this regal reality. honor, and move on. six weeks counted. one week to go.