I move through predawn darkness,star crusted sky fills my view. Is there less wonder because I have seen the sky before? Is there less beauty? No and no. Beyond the static beauty, the runner who runs this morning is not the runner who ran last week.

The lightening flashes thunder rends the air Wind howls almost covering the warning siren. Is there less awe because I have seen storms before. Is there less a frisson of fear spicing my amazement? No and no. Beyond the raging glory of the storm, the one who rides out the storm is not who sat in the darkness last month.

The green silence of deep forest surrounds me. The stillness of ancient trees the distant drip of water the gentle sursuration of leaves far above. Is the peace diminished because I have hiked in this wood before? I there less of a sense of connection with what is truly real? No and no. Beyond the living whole of the forest The one who hikes the hidden trails is not the one who did so an autumn ago.

I pray the morning liturgy, alone, wrapped in tallit and t'fillen. The seal on each blessing the same as the day before. Is the power of the prayer set aside because I have prayed it before? The beauty of the dance between kevah and kavenah diminished? No and no. Beyond the comforting song of prayer The one who prays this morning is not the one who prayed yesterday.

I roll the scroll back. Past Devarim, Bemidbar Vayikra Shemot To the beginning I say Bereisheit once more. I read again through the ancient stories the explanations that once satisfied my ancestors the laws that need new meaning and new application and I ask Is there any less wisdom because I have read the text before? Are the truths contained somehow less true and revelatory? No and no. Beyond the the eternal story of creation, revelation, and redemption, The one who reads this year is not the one who read last year.