(Since living in Israel, with one Seder alone, and one day of most holidays where we outside Israel have two, I have felt free to do certain things that I do not feel as tasks on the second day---which is not the custom here. But that is why I am writing on this site tonight.)
First seder was a gathering of dear friends here, lush and nourishing and kind and generous.
People offered to stay and help clean up, and I declined. The cleaning-up time is my own debriefing, taking it all in, settling all the important moments in my heart. Somewhere in the middle, I sat down in my beloved's recliner for a moment---and fell fast asleep. I wakened hours later, went upstairs to bed, and came down just befored dawn to finish cleaning up. The feeling reminded me of that period shortly after my dear had died, z'l, and I would fall asleep in his recliner.
It is a liminal time; periods conflate, and do not stay in proper order.
Tonight there were three of us at the Seder table, and we told stories of our present lives---the freedoms we have gained, the help we have received, the unikely events that catapulted us to our present freedoms. The gifts of freedom, and the costs.
Much of this was couched in apparently casual telling of stories and events in our lives; but they were nevertheless The Real Story....Some deliverances were gifts, some hard-earned, some yet to come.
That is why we tell the story every year; and every year it is the same and different.
There are more days of Passover in which I pray that new insights will come.
We are all seeking a way in which what's best in our soul can be free to live in us and do its work in the world.