4 Elul: for the days when return feels like the only prayer i have left by Emilia Diamant

Posted on August 17, 2026
for the days when return feels like the only prayer i have left. Emilia Diamant. the ocean doesn't perform its grief it just keeps doing the only thing it knows

for the days when return feels like the only prayer i have left

i am a scorpio, which means i already belonged to water before i ever stood in it
that eighth house of endings,
the sting that would rather turn on itself than stay trapped in a jar

but the sea taught me a better trade off:
you do not have to hurt yourself to leave. you can just be carried.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————-

this month we are supposed to return.
teshuvah, we call it
not “sorry” so much as turning around,
But walking back toward the self we misplaced somewhere along the coastline
and picking up what was taken by the wind.
so i drove to the water, because that’s what scorpios do
when there’s nowhere else to scream into but the depths

the ocean doesn’t perform its grief
it just keeps doing the only thing it knows:

pulling back
and coming home
pulling back and
coming home

the moon doesn’t ask the wave to be done with its sadness before it returns
we are not expected to achieve perfection

dad, i wanted to cast this grief off like a sin,
the way we’re taught to stand at the shore
and let the current take our breadcrumbs or pocket lint

but of course i cannot.
you are the salt in the ocean
you are why i cry into the same water that raised us generations back
before we had names for grief, or for god

so instead i threw in the smallness i’ve been holding,
the fear that loving this hard will kill me too,
the anger that the world keeps spinning while a whole man stopped

the water didn’t return those, no matter how hard i prayed
it just held them, the way it holds every degree of warming we keep asking it to swallow

teshuvah isn’t about becoming new, per se.
maybe it’s just going back to what already knows how to hold you, and letting it

again and again and again

Emilia Diamant (she/her) serves as Avodah’s Chief Program Officer. Emilia is an educator, social worker, facilitator who has taught on power and justice, whiteness, pop culture, feminism, and the arts for 15 years. Most recently, Emilia has worked with Dimensions Educational Consulting as the co-facilitator of the Jews of Color & Allies cohort, focusing on helping white women lead on racial equity and build meaningful cross-racial relationships that center Black women.

She was a JOIN for Justice Organizing Fellow in 2012-2013 and is also a proud first generation member of Tzedek Lab, a national multiracial network of political education trainers, organizers, spiritual leaders, cultural workers, and allies established to build liberation practice. Emilia earned a degree in Informal Urban Education from New York University and a Master’s in Social Work from University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. Outside of work, she prides herself on being a Beyhive member, a Bostonian, and a dog lover.

2 comments

  1. Maxine Lyons Reply

    Emilia,
    I am very moved by your Etude sentiments.
    I especially am inspired by these words that you expressed so beautifully-

    But walking back toward the self we misplaced somewhere along the coastline
    and picking up what was taken by the wind.
    so i drove to the water, because that’s what scorpios do
    when there’s nowhere else to scream into but the depths
    the ocean doesn’t perform its grief
    it just keeps doing the only thing it knows:
    pulling back
    and coming home

    And then this ending is quite touching and brought me back to my own loss of my dear dad of almost 20 years ago-

    dad, i wanted to cast this grief off like a sin,
    the way we’re taught to stand at the shore
    and let the current take our breadcrumbs or pocket lint
    but of course i cannot.
    you are the salt in the ocean
    you are why i cry into the same water that raised us generations back
    before we had names for grief, or for god
    so instead i threw in the smallness i’ve been holding,
    the fear that loving this hard will kill me too,
    the anger that the world keeps spinning while a whole man stopped.

    Thank you for sharing these meaningful words at this time of Elul.
    And I am so impressed with your professional achievements and current work.

    Yasher coach, l’chant tovah, Maxine

    (I know your Mom and run into her from time to time. You are quite the two amazing writers. )

    August 19, 2026 at 6:04 pm
  2. Anna Reply

    Poignant, eloquent, a beautiful homage to the sea, and to grief.

    August 20, 2026 at 5:28 pm

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