Earlier today my roommate and I were out of groceries and decided to drive over to a local diner for lunch. We talked on the way over, and after exhausting our usual topics of conversation like music, or any other of our mutual interests, we sat down, and I asked him why the reflection in our spoons was upside down. He didn’t seem as intrigued by the issue as I was, still, it just struck me as very odd. It wasn’t really the science of light reflection that was interesting, it was more so the fact that I had never questioned this seemingly magical thing, that I must have witnessed a thousand times throughout in life. How many things around me have I just accepted as part of the world that I’ve grown up in, without paying them any mind?
The first part of B’reisheet strikes me with a similar blissfully simple explanation of the birth of our universe. Over the span of a few paragraphs our entire world was created, without a single hiccup, question, or mistake. It’s written with such simplicity, there is barely even any room for question, although I’m sure Rabbinic scholars have found plenty of questions to ask. The portion is written in a way that all we can do is observe, rather than interact with it.
So now we find ourselves in this new beginning in the Torah cycle, especially after holidays in which we’re asked to reflect on our actions and ask for forgiveness for them. Basically, we went from the most intensely introspective part of our year, back to reading about the most blissful, simple moment of our universe, where there is no regret, mistakes or questions.
I cherish these moments of simplicity like no other, whether it be marveling at the reflection of a spoon over lunch, or reading about the theatrical origin of our universe, so I hope you all have an excellent first week of the Torah cycle, and may the simple joys in life be celebrated.