Preparing amidst Blessing

I have a mountain of work to do for my day job, but I find myself entirely distracted this morning. I must pen my musings for they overwhelm me.

Life has been busier than normal since the final weekend in August. I’ve been trying to find my rhythm again (like when I should schedule time to sit and write.)

My older siblings came to visit; a sweet, blessed time. I moved, FINALLY, and I’m loving my new place. I applied for a new job, which would utilize both my skills and passions. (Imagine that!) And above all, it’s the month of Elul, the month when we are to prepare for the new year, for Rosh Hashanah, for the opening of the Book of Life when we stand before the gates of heaven and beseech Hashem to be inscribed in the Book for another year before it closes on Yom Kippur.

And I find myself entirely distracted.

Why? I won’t disclose such intimate information just yet to you over the Internet, but it is for good reasons, albeit slightly inconvenient ones just because I’m a stickler for perfect timing.

Then again, who am I to refute Hashem’s timing? If He is sovereign and orchestrates all which happens in my life, then surely He saw this highly unexpected change coming, something which threw this INFJ completely off course, or maybe put me on the right course? Or maybe it was on my path all along, I was just blindsided by it for whatever reason?

(Contrary to popular belief, INFJ’s cannot foresee everything, especially when it comes to this specific aspect of life. I think, if anything, it’s this aspect which trips our “psychic abilities” without fail.)

And I like that. I like that I was caught off guard, caught unawares, completely and totally surprised. It makes it all the more magical of an experience.

Only then my practical, logical side kicks me, shouting, “But it’s Elul! Stop daydreaming! Get your head out of the clouds and focus! Prepare yourself!”

But…what if I am?

A few years ago, in some class I was taking, it was a time for open discussion, and we were describing how each of us prepares for the High Holy Days. I jokingly said, “I have an existential crisis,” which wasn’t too far from the truth.

However, it’s been a while since I’ve experienced such internal conflict. My life has significantly changed in the past two to three years. Though, I have not been without external forces trying to “subdue” me.

This time last year, I wasn’t able to prepare as I would have liked. My roommates and I found out days before Rosh Hashanah the landlord was selling the house, and we had 60 days to evacuate. Oh, and they would be remodeling until then, starting right after our new year.

Imagine for a second instead of being able to open your presents on Christmas morning peacefully around your tree with your family in a sweet, quiet, intimate moment, suddenly it’s interrupted by a pounding hammer or whirling sander, grinding against the newly installed wood floors from the other room because your personal space has been invaded by strangers. Not ideal is it? That was the High Holy Days for myself and roommates last year.

It was dreadful. The running joke became we were beating our chests during Al Chet for every time we wanted to curse our landlord for disturbing our holiday. (Again, not entirely untrue.)

Why do I say all this? Because this year, I don’t have some deep internal conflict I’m wrestling with nor some external one I’m having to endure and survive. It’s not the First of Tishri yet, but…G-d willing nothing will occur which would put me in a similar situation as in the past.

In contrast to the most recent years, instead of pain, I’m overwhelmed by blessing, by good things.

It’s bizarre to me. I don’t know what life is like without pain. Believe me, I do not go looking for it, but I am contentious enough to see, feel, and experience the difference its absence makes.

Thus, I find the only plausible explanation is that perhaps, maybe instead of learning to find Hashem in the midst of extraneous conflict, maybe, just maybe, I’m now learning what it means to prepare in the midst of blessing. I think it’s something we need to learn as much as the opposite, which I am all too familiar with.

And this lesson? It’s…new. Exciting. Different. Not without its challenges. It is change. But I’m enjoying it.

Maybe my enjoyment comes from learning to embrace the unexpected, learning to trust Hashem through all sorts of situations. Regardless, I am just as amazed and flabbergasted at His goodness, His mercy and kindness as I have been when He’s helped lead me through such adverse times. It’s just a different perspective. I’m gazing a different facet of this multidimensional jewel of His brilliance, and I’m just as stunned as before.

His beauty is marvellous, radiant, dazzling, and I’m lost with words to describe my love for Him.