If I could be two places at once this morning, I would be at the synagogue taking part in a rare ceremony to commemorate the beginning of an exciting new adventure: the synagogue is having a new Torah scroll inscribed by a person who makes his living doing just this. This individual, a fascinating person I spent some time talking with on Friday evening after the annual Simhah Torah service, copies out the Torah letter by letter with turkey feather brushes and vegetable ink. He must copy every dot, every line, exactly. That is why, as he told us, ancient copies of the Torah, over 1500 years old, are preciesely the same as the very newest one, and written on the same substance--skins taken from a kosher animal.
This morning, everyone who attends will be permitted, with the guidance of the sofer, the scribe, to write one letter onto the parchment in Hebrew, adult or child. But I cannot come because my teacher, Denise, recently came back after a hiatus of 4 months, and is now teaching every Sunday morning at 10:30-12:00. She teaches so rarely, or, I should say, I can go so rarely to her lessons that I must go to this one, particularly since this will be another very busy week with several doctor's appts. for my parents and for me. So I need to get my yoga in to keep my hip in shape and my mind as well.
This afternoon, I will go see a play at South Coast Repertory theater because my choir-mate, Harriet, gave me a ticket for a show she was unable to attend.
So I will have a wonderful day, I am certain, but I regret not being able to do everything. The scribe assures me that there will be plenty more occasions that I can write letters in the new Torah and more over the year or so he is working on it, so I console myself with that.