and that was enough

On the way to the pond, the frozen pond- Lev heard, as he passed the Church, something new, something he had not heard before- but wait… had he heard it and never listened or was actually something different?

It was richer, fuller. Until now the Christian chant sounded much like Jewish cantillation - without the expressive extra half steps, augmented seconds, glissandos, portamentos, the anguished wailing to plead with God for mercy and kindness. He liked Gregorian chant when he passed the monastery on his way to market his cattle. It was calming, holy - even he could feel it despite being of another faith. He wondered whether music of any type was God's way of saying, ‘All faiths lead to the same path of compassion, wisdom, peace through meditation.’

He started to indulge in wine when his twin brother died years ago. Lev had been a decent sort, loving, gentle, a scholar. Gradually over the years he indulged more and more, not an alcoholic, but soothed by the fruit of the vine. He was given to bursts of rage and self-centered impulse for which he added extra layers of guilt. He got through this by building things: furniture, which he sold, repairs on his or neighbor’s farms for which he got paid. Money began to take on a medicinal quality. When he wasn’t earning much, he drank more. On some level Lev did not want to give up this cycle because it enriched him. He also, though he would have been loath to admit it, liked the down time- his brain on wine. He didn’t know many ways to relax – religion, song, drinking.

The year 896, Lev looked deeply into the hole he had cut in the ice. It wasn't so much that he did not want to bring sorrow to his parents, brothers, sister, grandparents. It wasn't religion that made him decide to stop by the temple on his way home... it was anything but impulse which made him not end his life and the future generations he would father... It was the sound of something new. Not Gregorian Chant… it was an internal sound:  the newness of it gave him hope. He realized in that moment he had set himself impossible tasks. He wondered if God had given him the goal to constantly build and earn, to out-distance friends and neighbors- who often seemed so far ahead of him. He felt he was constantly falling farther behind.

In that hole in the ice, the water reflecting a blackened sky also reflected his decades spent trying to understand what the sages handwritten: a choice he could make… and make it he did, taking control for the first time since he was an enthusiastic young student: he needed to study in a way which progressively developed his mind not indulging in fantasy: that he could master Cabala only if he spent his life on it mastering every preliminary step. His gait was animated. He knew he needed a teacher, one who understood the path.

He could wait no longer to live in the world. It was past time.

He felt like a young bridegroom-

Desire rekindled.

Desire to learn, to help those in need, to sing. He bounded from stone to stone on the rocky path. Brimming with strength of spirt. The next day was his first day. He began with a visit to the matchmaker. He knew exactly the woman he wanted to marry. She was his age, a widow with five young children. She was a wonderful seamstress, she sang beautifully.

Lev's soul soared on high. His song called to be completed as an intimate duet.

He and the widow soon married.

It was not necessary to have the biggest, most successful business. In time, the mature couple became loving grandparents and that was enough.

****