I’ll be there.

It seems impossible to some, but we do it all the time much of the time: travel through space-time as if it were one thing. With all due respect for those others here’s a newsflash: it is one thing.

It is Thursday afternoon by a clock in Paris, Texas and it is morning or evening elsewhere, but I need to write my wish to you today, for tomorrow.

Tomorrow when Sabbath comes here, and later there, I will be >9000 meters above sea level, flying above one of the states: anticipation, calm, hopefulness—one of those states. It won’t be a state of fear, regardless, I am too far above that one even to be aware of it, and that is without presumption, believe me.

So, I will be flying high tomorrow after I send this today.

And I will be there even though right now I am here.

Shabbat Shalom . . .