Counting from Spring to Summer

 This is the second year in a row that I have engaged in the Jewish practice of “counting the Omer,” a ritual that stretches from Passover to Shavuot. In my nightly count, I have been aided by an amazing set of cards created by my friend and inspirational artist McKenzie Wren. 

This spring, I’ve appreciated the extra help staying grounded in the passage of time. I have reached another middle point— this time in my journey from doctoral student to PhD candidate. Last Shabbat, I was invited to speak about my journey. I found some common themes coming up for me around marking time and finding resonance in the repetition of numbers. I offer a transcription of my d’var here for you, dear reader. Whether you are in transition, marking a milestone, or simply making time, I hope my observations strike a chord:

“Shabbat Shalom!

When I was first asked to speak tonight, I learned that there had been a misunderstanding about where I was in my educational journey. Exactly a month ago, I passed my PhD comprehensive exams, and when I invited friends to celebrate with me, I had to correct the ones who started calling me “Dr. Adina.” You see, ABD (all but dissertation) means I still have a long way to go. 

And yet, this milestone, perhaps the exact midpoint of what will likely be my final foray into formal education, seemed especially worth celebrating to me. Since becoming a mother and proving that I could keep children alive until they could communicate in a language I was equipped to understand, this was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. For almost a year, eighty-four works of scholarship became my constant companions. Their voices joined the one inside my head that I knew to be myself, challenging my observations and nourishing my growth as a historian. 

Historians are intimate with the passage of time. The past grows ever more vast with each sunset and solstice, and yet we aim for interpretive relevance. Judaism, too, endeavors to unite the past and the present, repeating thousand-year-old stories in rhythm with the seasons and in recognition of generational milestones. I am 42 years old, most likely close to the midpoint of my life. Mastering two works of scholarship for every year of my life so far feels resonant somehow, like counting the Omer, or beginning to explore Jewish mystical texts like the Sefer Yetzirah.

What I’m trying to say with all this, and especially to the young graduates we’re celebrating today, is that life’s thresholds are worthy of appreciation. Graduation is a passage from one region of your life to another. So is middle age, where I find myself balanced on the fulcrum of another significant educational transformation.  May this graduation whet your appetite for finding new passages in the years ahead! Your journey of self-discovery is only just beginning. May it be long and full of inviting thresholds.”

One of my favorite local thresholds, at the Atlanta Botanical Garden, 2025