Yom Kippur

Everyone has a particular trick or two for knowing when their body is out of whack. Some little quirk or feeling you get that just let’s you know that everything is all good in Jamestown and Patriciaville. For me, that thing has always been Yom Kippur.

You see, if you are not familiar with Jewish Holidays this would be our big fasting day. From Sundown to Sundown the next day no food or water shall pass one’s lips as they sit in reflection for the New Year. You normally don’t get a lot of reflection and more classic styles of Jewish whining.

The thing is, I’ve fasted since I can remember. The earliest fast being 5-6 years old. The holiday isn’t an easy one. Especially the thirst for some water. However, your body somehow accepts after a few years the skill to not feel the hunger as a jab to the stomach, but as a warm soft burn. You feel it, but it’s not a painful annoyance.

When Yom Kippur is not like that I know that my body really is not right. I know this, because I feel nothing. I go the whole time not thirsty or hungry. I just am. And by the time I get to the food I take and bite and escape the dinner table of grouchy feasting Yids.

Maybe I was looking for something this Yom Kippur when I didn’t get the feeling I wanted. Maybe I wanted a sign that my metabolism wasn’t at a standstill and the things were moving in my body besides the things that cause me pain. Maybe I wanted some sense of normalcy. That even when now living a ‘sick’ life style parts haven’t changed.

I guess the only winner was the holiday this year. It definitely got its self-reflection.

A brooding,

I.L. Knight

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Yom Kippur

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