Writing sometimes feels like the High Holy Days in Judaism (Rosh Hashanah – the Jewish new year, and Yom Kippur – the day of atonement). Writing, just like the holidays, is something I have to fit in around “work” and the wider expectations of a society that doesn’t recognize the meaning of the act or the event.
But not all is lost. I’m lucky while writing or while observing, I am able to forget what day it is (Tuesday? Sunday? *shrug*) because, really, it doesn’t matter. I can make whatever day the calendar says special and meaningful myself, just by putting the effort in. That’s a power we all hold. Every year during religious services the shofar(a ritual musical instrument made from a ram’s horn) is blown and we Jews pray for sweet days to come despite how hard the year before was. We do this for the same reason many writers write: because we have faith that somewhere, out in the void where we send our prayers and our writing, someone is listening.