kol nidrei, all vows.
ALL vows? All my vows? How can I possibly remember them all?

• Those silent frustrations: I swear I could…
• I said what? Well, I didn’t mean it that way!
• The thick-as-mud silent tension in the hospital waiting rooms: please… and I will…
• Do you solemnly swear? I do.
• Just let me win, just make it happen, just this once… and I promise to…
• I vowed never to that again, and now what…?
• Of course, I will!
• What if I am not living up to my promise?
• All those intentions, all those “I should… do, call, visit…” that were born and died unspoken?

kol nidrei, unburdening, lifting the weight from my heart, from my soul. It shouldn’t be so easy: recite kol nidrei three times. Recite three times, and poof! — vows are suddenly non-vows, my promises non-promises — cancelled, voided, annulled.
Can I trust myself to make fewer pledges, to issue fewer promises, to assume fewer obligations, so that, maybe next year, twice — just two recitations of kol nidrei — will be enough?