I've been lucky enough in my life to learn a lot about Jewish culture and faith through my partner, Jon. His family believes in a contemporary form of Judaism, one that is entirely progressive and endlessly mindful.

Dayenu is one of those mindful traditions. On a literal level if means "it would have been enough," but on a progressive level it is a commentary on our modern culture where nothing--not our possessions, our bank accounts, or the food on the dinner plates--seems to be enough. 

Dayenu asks us to be grateful for all the blessings that surround us, but also to be mindful of injustice in the world and then to do something about it.

Such a powerful and important message.

The following is from the Herman family Pesach, the book you read (and sing) as a group during the Passover Seder. This Pesach was lovingly prepared, and this passage mindfully selected, by one of my zen inspirations, Phyllis Herman:

Here’s a funny thing I've noticed since starting this blog: sometimes I wait so long and spend so much time editing a post, that by the time I’m ready to publish it I decide that I'm actually... kind of... wrong.

This concept is kind of blowing my mind a little bit here. Bear with me.

I started this blog as a testament to the mindful life I’m attempting to lead. By sharing my thoughts it would keep me honest, and by putting these words out there maybe they just could help someone else along the way.

As a matter of fact, I know these words have helped people, because those people have actually told me so. It’s incredibly rewarding to know that my silly little ideas, my strange and personal way of seeing the world, has somehow moved other people out there. 

Just yesterday the online magazine Elephant Journal published my post about overcoming pain with mindfulness and the editor told me it "inspired their hearts." All of this has been a fun ride and it's made me feel less alone in my relative insanity.

But then I go back and read some of the things I wrote when I first started this thing, and some of it has me shaking my head. Obviously back then I totally believed those things, enough to publish them on a public platform for you all to read. Obviously there’s still some part of me that does believe those things.

But in the meantime, I have changed.

In the last few months I've heard new ideas, met new people, and had new experiences. Each time I learned something a seed was sown, each seed sprouted a new plant of information, and each new shoot grew up next to all of the other shrubs, flowers, and trees of knowledge that populate my personal garden of life.

We all grow and learn and change. We might not always notice it, because it’s happening a little bit at a time every day. And then over the months and years and decades, if you really look back--especially if you have a record of it, like a journal or a blog to look back on--you’ll notice that everything you thought you knew about life was totally wrong.

It’s OK to change. It’s OK to be wrong. That’s just life, and it’s kind of awesome.

One of my favorite things is discovering a really great song from an artist I’ve listened to for decades and I thought I knew so well. I almost feel nostalgic, like I could have had so many special moments with that song if I had only heard it, and understood it, way back then.

But I wouldn't change a thing. This amazing little moment of discovery wouldn't be the same if I had heard it years ago.  It's only special now, because now is when it suddenly mattered.

When I hear this song again years into the future it will bring me back to this moment, late September 2014, when I played it on repeat and it spoke to me. That’ll be a moment to reflect on how far I've come since then. That'll be a moment to remind me of how much further I will go, of all the songs in life I will have the privilege of knowing.