My post on the Rabbis Without Borders blog this month is a personal narrative, in which I recount my attempt to find wholeness in the months leading up to the High Holy Days:
A few months ago I realized I hadn’t been myself for a long time.
I’d been under a lot of stress for the better part of two years. Fueled by adrenaline and plenty of coffee, I could make it through each day without acknowledging the toll on my health. Only in year three, when the stress lifted, did my body begin to fail.
Many of the injuries I suffered could be categorized as minor, or a normal part of aging. Yet, in the aggregate, it seemed my mind-body connection had been severed, and the effect was as serious as if an artery or airway had been compromised. Continue reading here.