Mountaintop: Counting The Omer

On a mountaintop in Vermont, I stood in a circle with four other women. We had gathered in a great room with high-raftered ceilings and walls of glass to meet each other. I faced the stone fireplace, where Andrea, our facilitator, had placed a few logs. They burned red and smelled of pine.

“Welcome, everyone,” Andrea said, her voice gentle and soft. “It’s good to finally meet you in person and be together.” Andrea’s muscular shape reminded me of a Labrador retriever.       In preparation for our week together, she had asked us to email her a photo and a few words describing ourselves—“if you’re comfortable with that.” She included our photos and description in a welcome packet we each got when we arrived. I had taken a selfie headshot in the rental kitchen and described myself as an “environmental consultant.”

“Tonight, we’ll begin the Counting of the Omer,” Andrea said. “As you probably know, sundown marks the beginning of a new day in the Jewish tradition. But first, do you have any questions before we take our afternoon hike?”

“Backward, as usual,” Tracy said, twisting her mouth in a half smile. “I mean, come on. Why does evening begin the day? Why?” Tracy was the tallest one in the group. Her oversized shirt hung on wide shoulders. In the welcome packet, she’d described herself as an “attorney for social justice.”

“But is it really backward?” Dot said, a petite woman with crewcut blue hair. Dot had written that she was an “art therapist who is not Jewish but...