I use my tablet as my Tanach. I can no longer hold a book for any length of time. Carpal Tunnel Syndrome and whatever else is at work against me in the darkness beneath my skin. yeah. blah. blah. blah.
I keep one of my son’s ‘moleskin’ note books under my tablet held in by elastic corner bands of the case I keep that in. I do this for when I think of things I would like to remember when reading on my Tablet, more often as not, while participating in my weekly Torah study.
This Saturday morning’s parasha was of B’reshit Vayishlach/Genesis 35:16-36:8. What exactly triggered the upcoming line of thought is unclear to me now. I just remember there was conversation leading up to the Rabbi saying something about “the still small voice.” An earlier morning this week appeared before me.
Before I lost my thought I wrote this down. Whether it is any good will have to be for the reader to decide.
Yesterday I awoke early. Resisting.
I lay aware of the warmth under my covers. Staying still. Resisting.
My bladder had a LOUD, strong voice: Greater than that warmth-desire.
I raise myself. Exposing skin to the sharp, cold of early morning. Just rising up allowed my bladder to loosen. I better stumble faster. The bathroom is a long way from the starting point and I am unsteady. Pinball problem. I am the ball in the machine of groggy mornings.
The curtains still drawn closed on my brain. A hand reaches forward to open the darkened drapes overcoming the gripes against lifting my eyes to the morning.
The lid curtains flutter open as I pull them apart a sky is awakening.
In grand fashion of striking white edged long dark blue clouds washing across a brightening fire-orange background of sky.
I stood before the window on the world, still arguing with myself. suddenly, I realized there was recognition this panorama was that still small voice.
“Ok, god,” I said to myself. “I get it. I am getting up. I hear you, g-d or whatever.”
Bladder voice (I ought to give it a name beside “bladder”. Because, it wakes me from sleep a few times EVERY night.) I lay there discussing with my bladder whether to rise often through the night, as well as, the day. I am on such intimate terms with my “bladder” I wonder why it’s name is only bladder. Maybe Gertrude, or Bernice, or Vivienne, or Arnold, or Zani would be better.
FYI: I did get up. I did go to the pool for the 9:00 a.m. aquacise class. I did not get home until, shortly after 4 p.m. that day just to walk the dog and finally to get back home, eat, and fall into my La-Z-Girl chair and not move. At least, until Gertrude started yelling!