Monday, October 3, 2016


I'm not Jewish. I can't claim that I know anything about anything I'm about to write on here. But my boyfriend is, and I have many many dear friends who are Jewish. Funny enough though, it was actually my mother (another non-Jewish but very spiritual person like myself) who reminded me a few days ago that Rosh Hashanah was coming up. She decided she was going to celebrate this year, in her own "internet guided pagan hippie" way. It made me laugh and got my interest, so I started my own search and read up about the traditions and customs of this High Holy day. The ritual of Tashlikh, where people walk by moving water reciting prayers and sometimes throwing bread or pebbles in as a symbol of casting off sin, sounded like a beautiful way to invite the Jewish New Year into my life. 
I took Fig for a walk to the urban forest near our home today. We spent more time than usual down by the creek walking and thinking, it was peaceful and lovely and sweet. Then I tried to take a picture of my adorable baby puppy by the creek (probably not recommended to bring your iPhone to Tashlikh, but I'm usually pretty sacrilege in most things I do). I started to get so frustrated that I couldn't get her to sit and stay, even though I brought the good treats she loves! I finally realized how silly I was being, and snapped an "un-perfect" photo of my curious sweet pup who just wanted to play and explore. I had to cast off my own sin of trying to find perfection in everything. Fig was able to show me that this is perfect, in every way it should be.