Unripe and Unready

The other day, I bumped into this green pomegranate on the street and recoiled in horror.

This fruit is associated with the high holiday season, becoming ripe in late summer early fall. There it was in front of me, full-sized and green. Not yet ruby red like it should be when it’s time.

I had this visceral reaction- a weight on my chest that has been heavy on me since then. An undeniable reminder that we are almost back where this all began last year.

Today is Rosh Chodesh Elul and we are entering the period of reflection and prayer that precedes Rosh Hashana-

and like this green pomegranate - I do not feel ready.

I have spent the spring and summer collecting and writing prayers for the anthology I have been working on, Az Nashir- We Will Sing Again, and throughout this time I have been deep in dialogue with God.

Through other people's prayers, I have been able to glimpse inside the inner lives of other women and note so many of the same feelings that I feel.

Fear, trepidation, anxiety, grief, rage, heartache, hope, gratitude, joy, peace, and everything in between.

But these green fruits remind me of what is coming- what we have yet to face.

A transitional season where we must reengage with the past- our last season of newness where our world shattered and was created anew.

And brought forth a darker, more terrible reality.

I've done the best I could to survive this year- to keep living my life and grieving people, places, and a world that was sweeter than the one we are living in now.

I don't yet feel ready to go back there- to wrestle with the darkness and the memories.

To let my heart crack open and maybe be forced to face change again and I pray that this time it will be for the good.

Both green pomegranate and I are unready.

Unripe.

I have a lot of work to do this coming Elul.

May it truly be a chodesh tov.