I’ve been counting the Omer.

Maybe you are, also.

I have had mixed success, over the years, at getting through all 49 days. Many years, I have managed to count the first day (which is written into the Seder for the second night of Passover), and that was it. Counted one night, and then failed to continue.

One year, I think, I made it all the way to the end.

So, far, with the help of an app and a subscription to text meditations, I’ve gotten to 32 days (that’s today). The ongoing question is, will I make it all the way to Shavuot? And why do I care?

So, there’s a funny dynamic to this counting business that plays into my sense of honesty and obligation. No one knows if I really counted on time. What does that mean – to count on time? The technicalities of counting are excruciating…you have to wait until nightfall (three stars visible in the night sky) before you can count, but you have to count in the nighttime to be able to say the blessing (and, i guess, thereby allowing it to count as a mitzvah). If you forget to count at night, you can count the following day (but without saying the blessing), and if you forget entirely, such that the next night falls, and you need to count the next day, you should count, but you can’t say the blessing for the rest of Omer period.

But why???

If you have an answer (in Judaism, there are usually a multitude of explanations), please educate me…

Tomorrow is Lag B’Omer – the 33rd day of the Omer – a minor holiday that is traditionally celebrated with bonfires, and people get their hair cut (?). Weddings are permitted, which are prohibited through the Omer period. Is anyone getting married tomorrow??

This notion raises for me the idea of being in a semi-mourning period during the pandemic, when we’re all still isolating, but to some extent venturing out into the world of connection, and normality. It’s hard to imagine what normal life is like these days…I loath wearing a mask, but I feel naked without it. I hope for the resumption of dinners with friends, going to concerts, enjoying a day out without worrying about how close I am to strangers.

J and I were talking today about why we have to deprive ourselves every year during Passover and again in the fall with Yom Kippur. It’s a good question…why don’t we learn the lesson once, and have done with it? Why do we have to repeat it year after year? I think it is inherently human to need the reminder…I love the image of ridding my home of chametz before Passover – getting rid of my puffed-up ego. I know that every year that I fast on Yom Kippur the experience is new, and I gain deeper insights into my experience of fasting, of choosing not to succumb to my hunger. J doesn’t see the beauty of that repetition – I get it. I probably wouldn’t have at 13 either. But, I hope, over time, he might gain some understanding of the value of withholding.