Tashlich

Every year since we met, Bruno has joined me at Rosh Hashanah time for the Jewish tradition of tashlich. The word, tashlich, means: "casting away", and the tradition is to take the lint out of your pockets, the crumbs from the corner of your house, and let them represent your sins from the past year. You cast them into a moving body of water and watch as they are taken away.

Since I have more sins than I have lint in my pockets or crumbs in the corners (lack of cleanliness isn't one of my sins), I have always used bread. This year, Bruno and I took our bread out to Foster City, and stood on rocks by the Bay, and named our sins outloud to each other and the Universe before casting them into the flowing current. As an added benefit, we attracted quite a number of birds, and were able to see certain sins get instantly consumed. It was quite satisfying, although we were worried that we might be as instantly punished for said sins by these same overhead flying friends. Luckily, the Universe was gracious and forgiving, and we remained poop-free.

As we stood on the rocks, we named certain sins that we have named year after year: neglecting and causing pain to our respective families, not doing enough to give back to the world, failing to forgive easily. This year we added some new ones: giving in to jealousy and resentment, not remaining grateful for the things that are working, failing to be happy for others on their paths while we struggle on ours. Together, we cast a crumb for anything we may have done that precipitated our loss of our sons. Ironically, this crumb landed on the rocks, not in the water, and we had to cast it off again: apparently it's a hard one to let go of. I cast a crumb for failing to communicate with Bruno's non-English speaking relatives. Bruno cast one for not being a big enough part of the lives of all his nieces and nephews. And we ended by together casting a crumb for any sins we have committed of which we are not aware, and asked to be made aware of them, so we could work on them.

As we walked away, talking about what kind of volunteer work we'd like to do, and where we'd like to donate money, and commenting on the group of sins we toss out each and every year, continually unremedied, I was reminded of why I like this holiday so much. The chance to reset one's compass, to name, again, with hope, the way one wants to be in the world, despite failures, despite years of failures...well, let's just say it is particularly meaningful this year, if not down right metaphorical.

So readers, please be my running water as I cast out one more crumb: the sin of not noticing how thin the line is between resigning oneself to the way things are and resetting one's compass, the sin of forgetting to hope.

May the New Year be a sweet year for all of us. Amen.