Ding Ding

I just biked the west side greenway from lower Manhattan to 181st Street (my daily commute) near sunset.  Having commuted the past three years away from the coastline, I had forgotten about the potential incompatibility between large numbers of people carrying out a certain tradition and high-speed bicycling.  Today I am reminded, and struck by a seeming increase in devotion.  Never before have I seen so much casting of bread upon the waters.  Who knew there were so many landsmen on the Upper West Side, and so much sin to consider ...

Anyway, being in a state of breadlessness at the time, I could only join in metaphorically.  I am not a religious person, because I find the overall concept (and many  details) impossible to take seriously.  However, I'm happy to take wisdom from where ever I can get it. The tradition of contemplating in a state of awe one's flaws and misdeeds, one's obligations to others and the world, and the possibility of improving the world and oneself even incrementally in the next year strikes me as a wise one.  Shana Tova, y'all.  Shofars are in somewhat short supply in our abode, so a bicycle bell will have to suffice.