438. Reward

I have a laptop!

Whew. I can once again sit in the comfy chair in my bedroom and write. (But only when there's electricity in that half of the apartment, which happens a random half the hours of every day. A boring and frustrating story, and the subject of a future post whenever I can stand to write about it.)

The arrival of this computer feels like a reward for making it through the past few weeks. Nothing dire going on, just enough to make me a little dizzy. Staying calm isn't one of my best talents, but I'm trying. I don't see very clearly at times like this, either; tonight I was thinking about how I've been asked to help lead services only once this fall, and retracing my steps and wondering (for the hundredth time) what I might have done wrong. I need to remember that all this wonderful stuff--chanting, leading, praying, writing--is means to an end, not the end itself. To forget this, to invent nonexistent crises, to get stuck in the mitzrayim, the narrow place, is to cower in the dark and cheat myself out of a good view of whatever might come next.