100

I had something worth writing, on the topic of fasting and fellowship and atonement. I've lost all that. It was a genuinely peaceful day, full of repose, prayer, thought, and excellent friends. But what ideas have I left at the moment? Few. I was asked countless times today (while watching Star Trek) - are you happy?
This stems not from an expectation of "no", but from a nervousness at no longer being around much, and knowing little of my current experience. Am I happy? I think I'm happy. I don't feel unhappy, and I'm enjoying my life. Am I content? I think I'm content.

I expect there are moments on either side, like I'm tiptoeing across a balance, and it shifts with each step.  I'm happy I'm happy whoa whoa whoa I'm in trouble! Oh, things are good again! And so on. I remember thinking once, at one point in my life: "does sanctification mean loneliness?" I think that is what people think, sometimes. Solitude, setting yourself apart, distance - are you lonely? Are you okay?

This is why, I think, that Yom Kippur denotes a little bit of loneliness, in my opinion. Fasting always seems a little bit like solitude. Does it mean I'm not okay or unhappy? Of course not.

I learned some things in my holyday meditations and reflections. I think the holy days prepared in the Old Testament sometimes are my favorites, simply because they exhibit a different viewpoint, a world we've mostly forgotten. Anyway, I've rambled enough. This is what happens when you don't eat for a very long time, play soccer, bike around, and then eat as much as possible when your body is falling to pieces - you go a little loopy.
Maybe that is just me. Happy 100.