There was a new moon last night. In my sky it was bright white, a sliver of its fullness, floating against a black sky. It was warm with promise. It spoke of what is yet to come. It came at a good time, reminding me of what is real and what is not. It was the Elul moon of preparation.

Yesterday we spent the day packing. Or to be more accurate, yesterday we spent the day unpacking and repacking. The guidelines for the trip are “duffel bag, no more than 24 inches, no frame, small wheels”. We will be gone for a good portion of September so what to take, what to leave behind; what to carry forward, what to assign to the unnecessary pile. But unnecessary is such a grey word. What if it is colder than we anticipate; what if it rains; what if the mosquitoes are out in full force (unlikely this time of year)?

Prepare for every eventuality? Not in 24 inches. (I know people who are really good at this, I admire their decisiveness.) Or is it trust? What we call in Hebrew – bitachon. Trust that they can weather almost any eventuality. Trust that they are prepared.

There’s that word again. Prepare; fortify yourself that you are ready. Ready for a new moment, a new year, a new experience, a different way, a new path. Switch gears. Engage the clutch. Gradually let it out and find that sweet spot where when you press the gas, you move forward slowly, smoothly, gliding through the unknown, like last night’s moon.

I promised myself that today I was zipping them up. It is hard to carry when it’s open.
Things just keep falling out. Gotta make that leap of faith. Done. Done. Done.
But you know, I know, it’s never done, just finished for now. Thank God we can begin again. That’s the season you know; that’s the blessing of last night’s moon.