A couple of days ago, frustrated with all the Passover preparations, I published a post here that was intended to be a joke. Admittedly, the only people who seemed to get it were my husband, Yosef, who laughed out loud when he opened it, and my sisters, who know me too well to think it was anything otherwise.
After I had posted it, Yosef half-joked, “Now you have to write a more serious post about Passover,” and I laughed and said, “I’ve literally got nothing to say about it this year.” I was fed up — with the Passover preparations which seemed to be endless and more exhausting with each passing day, and with my attitude to the festival, in general. Which, it appeared, was basically non-existent.
Having never been a fan of Passover, this year wasn’t any different. But then I thought again — maybe because I dislike it so much, maybe that’s reason enough to try to find the good in it?
On my walk this afternoon, inspired by fresh autumn air and the blanket of rustic fallen leaves, I decided I’d give it another go. Not to prove anything to anyone else, but maybe just to help myself get through it with a little less resentment.
You see, my extreme dislike of Passover is not only related to the festival itself. Passover here in Australia falls in autumn, and if I can think of any season that blusters in so much change at once, it’s got to be autumn. Autumn is a season where things feel constantly in flux. Maybe not for everyone, but definitely for me.
In autumn, the weather cools down enough some days to require layers and boots, but yet on others it’s deceptively sunny and the beach feels like a day in spring. Except…it doesn’t.
The only constant in life is change, they say. Yes, that’s true, I can vouch for it, but change can be difficult; unsettling. And when Passover falls in a season that’s brimming with so much change already, and the festival brings on it’s own fair share of rush and hustle — it can be a challenge.
Passover cleaning often turns into a major spring cleaning event that has very little to do with Passover. The streets turn into real life dodgem cars, grocery shopping becomes a mission, something to conquer. There is a buzz in the air, and you can’t escape it. Again, that feeling of flux, the ebb and flow, that ongoing seesaw. Hang on tight.
Some people love Passover, I’ll acknowledge that. But this post is more for those of us who struggle with it in some way. And I know I’m not the only one.
If you are struggling with Passover this year, my suggestion would be something I’m telling myself too: take it at your own pace. Do it your own way. Even if it’s not entirely conventional. Even if it’s not exactly what everyone around you is doing. You can still keep all the laws and do it in a way that makes sense for you. So take it slow. And be kind to yourself. Because you’re showing up for it anyway. And that, in itself, is completely remarkable and noteworthy.
Now go crunch on some Matzah and avocado! (Hey, you may as well enjoy yourself a little.)