In case anyone's wondering: I haven't disappeared.
I've had a hard time getting back to reality. The month of September was overwhelming, and ended with a big neon sign instructing me to start--something. But over the last two weeks I feel like I've resumed rather than begun afresh, and am not sure that's what the universe intended. (What, me second-guess fate? Never; but if life is a door, which it is, I think someone is knocking, almost too softly to hear.) Maybe I'm already doing whatever it is; I just need to give it a name. Perhaps it's about learning, or art, or relationships, or running in the park every morning. I don't know. On Shabbat the rabbi spoke about Abraham having the right tools to change the ordinary path of his life into an event of awareness. Until you understand how to see them, discoveries remain hidden in the bushes.
One of my weed-whackers or lawnmowers of the moment is a wonderful Biblical Hebrew class (suburban metaphors are not my strong suit, sorry); a symphony of practical arcana, we spent an hour and a half on the dagesh alone (the little dot inside letters). More about that, and the ending of my Simhat Torah story, when I'm more awake.