That’s what they told me. That just to lie still, to close your eyes and feign, that alone can refresh you
I start and sit up in bed, but crumple back down. Does it even apply to me? Here? Now? I’m a young mom, and I’m sapped from the day. I don’t — can’t — push myself the way I used to. I keep halachah, I do what I need to do, and inyanim are nice, but maybe they’re luxuries? My mother would never have slept. She pushed herself for every inyan, every minhag, with a dedication I just can’t seem to muster.
Are we weaker now? Am I?
I pull the covers over my head. It’s not about that, it’s that I’m exhausted and I have this horrendous relationship with exhaustion….
Sounds float upward, flying, then swirling through the air.
In half an hour we go to Tashlich.
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