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I can’t believe next week is Thanksgiving. Where does the time go?

In reference to my previous post: I spent Yom Kippur working and not even thinking about the fact that it was a Jewish holiday. I got in a beautiful 1920s art deco dining room set that day and started going through the motions of cleaning it up, restoring some of the rough spots, and placing it in a room setting. When I opened one of the doors on the sideboard I saw that there was something inside. There were two sets of tefillin inside the sideboard. One set was in a handmade bag that had the year 1919 embroidered on it. Don’t worry, I’ll get neither sentimental nor metaphorical on you right now. I won’t regale you with tales of my newfound belief or impress you with how I’ve changed my ways because that would all be false. Even I, the eternal pessimist, must admit I found this to be kind of mystical though. I cut out of work early. I put on my hiking boots and spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the fall foliage being thankful for the turns my life has taken in the past year, the opportunity to spend some time looking within myself, and for finding the tefillin which reminded me to take some time out to be spiritual even if I couldn’t be religious.