Havdala and the Florida Flood Story

Separation between holy and profane. What a concept. I know at least one man that puts a lot of faith in it, even saying that it is holiness; as in the answer to the simple question "What is holiness?"

Yet on this last Havdala of the Summer, the separation is as thick as the humid Florida air. And it is nothing but a huge separation, holiness from profane, play from work, learning from learning.

This summer has been the experience of a lifetime, the good I've left for others, I hope, is even close to what they gave me and what I managed to take away. The holiness of some of the relationships I have formed with the people I truly miss and have in so many ways influenced me and my future is almost palpable. The end of the summer is not a separation from that, our relationships will always be there, but it is a return to profanity. A return to the I and it relationships we all face everyday, a return to something we may not want to accept but is all too apparent.

I return now to my school work, my secular education. Profane by my account, boring, unspecialized, and overly competitive. There is little fun to be had there. I also leave a place where my Jewish knowledge had so much opportunity to expand. I do not expect to discontinue my Jewish studies by any means, but this lack of teachers, time and resources will be an impediment.

And although the sun is still bright here, Shabbat and summer, for me, have ended. Their end was too apparent. I sat here working on my AP Chemistry Summer Assignment so I could do something fun to celebrate the last day of summer tomorrow (something I feel might be a bit damped by this experience), when suddenly the whitest flash I have ever seen flew before all I could see, this accompanied by the deafening boom. Thunder and lightning, the start of a short storm. Rain to wash away the summer and begin a fresh school year. This storm is the end of summer.

Even though we have that covenant, I'm building an ark. Just to be safe.