This self we are conscious of, it is only a tiny portion of the whole, a finely focused constriction of a beam, the tip of a peninsula from a great continent of light.
Upstream lies unimaginable wealth, storehouses of treasures left by many generations. Every G‑dly act done by our holy mothers and fathers, all the strength and courage of every martyr, the unlimited power of G‑d's breath within us.
When we dance and sing in the joy of a mitzvah, sometimes we can blur our focus enough to hear our holy mothers and fathers dancing and singing along.
