I want to notify you that I will be taking a sabbatical from February through April. We all know that this pandemic has made it difficult to make plans or travel arrangements, and for quite a long time, it was unclear to me how I could take a break or what options would even be available during this “new normal.” At the encouragement of our capable lay leadership, we mutually decided to break up my sabbatical over two years. This decision has led to a quick turn around in scheduling.

There’s a game most of us play. When we are going through a difficult patch, we tell ourselves “It will be better when this happens,” or “It will be better next week, month, year…” At first blush, this might seem an optimistic way to think about the demands of our lives. Rather than allowing ourselves to imagine that the present difficult moment defines us, we look forward to a better future.

Some people love new beginnings. If they see a door open even a crack, they push quickly through, so excited and certain that something wonderful waits on the other side. Perhaps there’s a party happening, perhaps all of life is a party to which they have been invited.

Our last Shabbat was spent in darkness, the way a Karaite Jew observes the Sabbath, or perhaps the way early humans lived before our ancestors learned how to tame fire. A tree fell in a windstorm; not only did it take down an electric power line, but it also ripped the electrical meter base off our house, removing siding with it.

Nine days ago, we laid Itai Dewar to rest. In addition to being a skillful educator in our Aliyah and adult education programs, Itai was the synagogue shamash, which is to say he was our kehillah’s caretaker, opening and closing the building. His sudden loss has been a blow to many people in the community, myself included. During his funeral, those in attendance witnessed a remarkable sunset.

Those of us who grew up when the Muppets were the rage probably remember a segment called “Pigs in Space.” Miss Piggy is right up there as one of my favorite astronauts of all time. Sorry Neil Armstrong. I hadn’t thought of her in ages, but she came to mind this week when a student reached out to me. This congregant has a theology paper assignment for school, examining from a Jewish perspective if it is ethical to fund space projects/travel/exploration.

We’ve all heard the phrase, “don’t let the perfect be the enemy of the good.” The meaning is clear. If we hold out for perfection, not only will we miss a lot of good, but we will also sabotage the good and end up with neither the good nor the perfect. Our Sages put it this way: “Tafasta merubah, lo tafasta—if you try to grab hold of too much, you will end up holding nothing.” There’s plenty of wisdom to be found there.