Dear Elul Writers,

We recently had to take down a massive oak tree that sprawled out over our house. The red oak was nearly a century old with branches thicker than tree trunks that spread like a giant hand above our home. Seen most benevolently, its cupped palm offered us shade and protection. At other times, it felt more like a hand hovering over a bug, readying itself for a proper squashing.

Since its removal, I find myself a bit disoriented when I walk up towards our house. It feels like a big piece of the sky is missing. I can’t find my bearings. The house looks strange and out of place.

Perhaps, every year, as Elul approaches, we feel this sense of disorientation. The year has shaken us around, spun us, and, glancing at our lives, we struggle to find our place. Some years, of course, are more dizzying than others. The landmarks that we’ve used to guide us have shifted. The loss of family, friends or community members have left gaping holes in the landscape. Considering ourselves, in respect to who we’ve been, we might seem strange or out of place.

The work that we undertake this month is the work of locating ourselves, regaining perspective and, hopefully, orienting ourselves in the direction that we hope to walk in the year to come. It is a task that is, at once, intensely personal, and, at the same time, best done in the company of others. I am happy to have you along.

DAY 1 PROMPT

Famously, the first question in the Torah, directed at Adam and Eve, is ayeka / אַיֶּֽכָּה , where are you? It is a question that is, at once, straightforward and extraordinarily piercing. It is the question that we must begin with as Elul stretches out before us. Where are we? Rashi, never wanting the reader to be confused, explains that the Holy One of Blessing knows where Adam and Chava are, but begins with this question as a means of allaying fears, of starting a conversation. So too, on some level we know where we are, in Detroit or Austin or Portland or London, but we know that the work ahead of us is vulnerable and scary, so we approach ourselves with a simple, non-threatening question. On Rosh Chodesh Elul, we acknowledge the disorienting effects of the year, and still we seek to locate ourselves. So, start with “where are you?” Answer it as literally or figuratively as you want. I am looking forward to spending this month together.

Chodesh tov,

Jordan