Souls and Safe Rooms

Well, folks, Rosh Hashanah is a mere 2 days away. We have returned from “chofesh hagadol” (“the big vacation,” Israeli-speak for those 10 long, hot, endless, what-are-we-doing-today weeks colloquially known as “summer”). The kids are back in school, some happily, some not—the happiness is correlated to how much time they spend zooming around in toy cars vs. doing homework—and my brain has been moaning as it tries to remember how to “work” again.

 

So how are we preparing for the chag (holiday) over here? Well for one, we are cooking. A lot.Rosh Hashanah is a 3-day holiday this year, falling out on Thursday and Friday so that the second that chag ends, Shabbat begins. Which means that most of the cooking (though not all, as it is permissible to cook on the two days of Rosh Hashanah) needs to be done before Wednesday evening. The inside of my fridge and freezer is full of soups, chicken, cookies, cakes, and the outside is full of Lists—of the things that have yet to be purchased and cooked.Everyone in the country is preparing for this holiday. Which is good, in that warm, fuzzy, Jews-in-their-homeland sense. Which is bad, in that there is no such thing as a supermarket without crowds and lines.

 

We are also preparing for war, again. Although, from what I understand, it seems that Obama said no war just yet. (Which confuses me, as a regular person, “We can’t let them get away with this! We will have to do something! But … later!” Also confusing/amusing: Articles about how Assad is moving his “important stuff” out of the probable target areas. We wouldn’t want to destroy any of the things he doesn’t want us destroying! That would be terrible!) Anyway, I am also keeping up to date on any action with this simple website, created in the tradition of dark Israeli humor/realism: It is called “Kvar takfu?” which means, “Have they attacked?” (Today, so far: No.) I check it a few time a day.

Still, even with the imminent strike somewhat less imminent, when your neighbors (Iran and Syria) are threatening to take it out on you if America strikes them, you want to make sure you have your gasmasks.

 

So, cooking and war, is what I’m saying.

 

Luckily, my family is all up-to-date, gasmask-wise. Over the summer, they opened up a distribution center in my city. I called to see if ours needed to be exchanged. And in that scarily efficient, Big Brother sort of way, they looked us up using my national ID number and told me that my middle child needed to be upgraded from a “child” to a “youth” gas mask. Today, son, you are a … almost man. So I exchanged his and stacked it neatly with everyone else’s in our mamad (safe room). There are instructions on the boxes not to open it up until necessary, which always gives me pause because I imagine it’s going to be more complicated than just “put this on your head” so I kind of want to know what’s in there and how it works.

 

However, our mamad itself is in a dismal state. You may remember last year that I got all motivated with the Operation Pillar of Defense and then the Iran crisis brewing, and I stocked it with water, snacks and other essentials. However, the room also doubles as my husband’s home office and triples as our guest room. So the water is gone (guzzled during my husband’s late night meetings. “But I get thirsty!”). The snacks were removed long ago, during Pesach cleaning. Now all we have are two beds, way too much Stuff and all of our old picture albums. (And the pants. Don’t worry, the pants are still there.)

 

I should probably work on cleaning and restocking that room.

 

Which struck me as an apt analogy for Rosh Hashanah, the beginning of a new year.

 

You can’t expect something—whether it is your soul or your safe room—to remain in tiptop condition, if you haven’t done anything to prepare it. You need to be thinking about it, refreshing it, taking out what you don’t need, clearing the clutter, filling it in with what’s necessary. When you don’t put in a little forethought and effort, you can’t be surprised that you’re left with a hot mess.

 

So this year, while I’m refilling water bottles, gathering snacks and removing Stuff, I’ll also take some time to think about the year that was and the year to come. What are my goals, for myself, my family and my people? What did I do well and what can I do better? This is my opportunity to try, at least, to start the new year not only with a full fridge and organized mamad, but with a clear head.

 

Wishing the entire JVO-niverse a happy, healthy, contemplative, thoughtful—and safe—New Year.