I guess I haven’t written in a while. Right now marks the end of Yom Kippur. For the past two years Yom Kippur has aligned perfectly with my life (sounds a bit egocentric…). This time has been for reflection, for remembering all the things I could have done but failed to do, for starting to take the step to ask for forgiveness and just move on. I really love this holiday. I love the fast—even though this year I wasn’t able to do it. I love how you feel sluggish and tired and weak. You’re frail and mortal. You try to eat. It hurts to eat. Initially it makes you nauseous. And then you’re so revitalized, the previous 20-some odd hours of fasting seemed to have flown by.