As I sit here

on Yom Kippur
I feel a sharp hunger for more than food.
I'm wondering what it's like to be full of purpose,
and wondering what exactly I should be atoning for.

Racist jokes. General insensitivity to the plight of others.
I'm sure I have neglected some of my more distant family.
I have probably made my mom sad at times,
just by not doing as much as I could.
I could go on. But I won't. At least not on paper.

Laziness is not a virtue - it's not ladylike.
But it's not like me to create fire, or fuel it.
Just trying to emanate warmth through compassion,
love and positive energy whenever possible.
I strive for happiness and a peaceful, humble existence. Seriously.
I just want my friends to be safe. And I don't want to get cancer. Is that too much to ask?
Probably.

I really like talking to older people, they have seen more of this life and this world than me.
But young people are more exciting, more impressionable.
And at this point I am old enough to impart at least some wisdom.

Truly, family and friends really are what's important.
It's too real to be a cliche.

We don't live alone. Life is symbiotic, symbolic.
Too short to be robotic. Too awesome and exotic.
I don't want the internet on my phone, for example.
I crave only what is natural. Here's a sample:
What I crave is caveman life
back to the roots and berries
tubers and twigs, figs.
And I admit, cities are exhausting.
Tired of treading through cars emitting exhaust
amidst people who are lost
and looking just for something to look for.

One day I have a cold.
The next day my right calf is sore.
So I can't play sports for a while.
This is a disaster in my book - cuts me to the core -
though it doesn't warrant a whole chapter.
My book's called "Life is Often Good"
I haven't written it yet, it's just part of the book I'm writing now
"The Great Book of Great Book Ideas"

I teach a graduate course
called Introduction to Introspection
It encourages reflection. Usually rhyming and silliness in the last couple stanzas distills what I'm trying to get across.
Not this time.

In sum: Life is great. God is good.
I accidentally gave money to a very Jesus-y group the other day.
A black woman came up to my car while I was at a red light.
And I gave her a dollar coin before reading the brochure she gave me.
But she told me God bless you, and Amen. And it made me feel good.

No moral here, or message.
I think Yom Kippur is a great holiday, and it really represents what I appreciate about being Jewish. If you don't allow religion to take over your life and dictate your actions entirely, it can be incredibly illuminating. Maybe psilocybin helps, but openness goes a long way on its own.

Don't take anything for granted.