Yesterday during the break in the Yom Kippur service, about three o’clock, a few of us took a walk along the lake. It was a beautiful brisk day. I wore my tallit outside to help keep me warm.
That was when the first metaphor breezed by — a man wearing a blue ski cap and headphones, using two walking sticks, holding onto a dog by the leash, and dragging a tire, filled with weights, about 8 feet behind him. “Wow. Could that be any clearer?” we joked.
“A tire?! Man, talk about baggage.”
“That’s my life,” JR said. “But my tire is adhered to my hips.” We actually stopped the man and asked him what he was doing.
“Getting ready for a polar expedition,” he said. “A 70 day journey. I’m pulling the tire to be better prepared at pulling the sled.” We couldn’t have made this up. He even shared his website if we had polar fantasies we wanted to fulfill.
Not three minutes later, another metaphor passed. A jogging man, wearing a white cloth tied around his forehead, juggling three yellow tennis balls, and listening to some rhythmic beat through his headphones. He had a water bottle and a small paperback in his back pocket and a pen behind his ear. “That’s my life,” I said.
I’m so happy that once a year we have the time to stop the juggling and examine the tire we drag around ceaselessly. Maybe this is the way transformation happens– out for a walk, meeting a jogging juggler and a polar explorer.