This piece, called âTashlich,â speaks to what weighs heavy on my heart right now. Itâs by the wonderful artist Liora Ostroff and based off of these excerpts by Abraham Joshua Heschel:
Today is a very special day in the Jewish calendar. Itâs the 1st of Elul, also known as Rosh Hashanah LaBehemot, the New Year for Animals.
Did you know Judaism actually has four different new years?
đ 1 Nisan â the new year for kings and months.
đł 15 Shevat (Tu BiShvat) â the new year for trees.
đđŻ 1 Tishrei â the new year for years (i.e., Rosh Hashanah).
đŸ 1 Elul â the new year for animals.
In ancient times, Rosh Hashanah LaBehemot was connected to tithing animals for the Temple. Today, many Jews have reclaimed it as a time to honor the creatures with whom we share Godâs world.
And of course, for Mazel Pups, itâs a chance to celebrate the amazing dogs in our lives - companions, helpers, healers, and furry family members. đ¶â€ïžâĄïžâ€ïžđ¶
When you give a girl a shofar âÂ
no, not a proper instrument of G-d,
but a rough-cut horn with no real mouthpiece
her aunt brings back from a trip to Jerusalem,
donât make it easy.
Put it up on the shelf in the living room
where its curled promise of a shout
will tempt her until she can reach it on tiptoe.
Tell her no one has ever found its voice,
that she will only make it grunt, bray and sputter
like the animal it came from.
Then give her a few years.
Give her an empty garage and a neighborhood
Jewish enough to understand what itâs hearing
so she can practice until
tiny tekiot burst forth from the scrap of ram.
She will be the only one who can ever shape its sounds,
can bend the call to tekiah, round off nine drops of târuah wailing,
fling the anguished cry of a shâvarim from its mouth.
Let her brag about this. Â Remember that children
are not humble creatures, that the simple act of being heard
is their great triumph. Â Let her be heard.
Bring her to Hebrew school.
Teach her the story of the rabbi
who told his students that he would put the words of Torah on their hearts;
that the words would only find their way in when the studentsâ hearts broke.
Let her sit with that tale for as long as it takes
for her own heart to shatter, for torah and poetry and forgivenessÂ
find their way inside,
play her Leonard Cohen. Let him croon about the cracks in everything,
thatâs how the light gets in, let her begin searching for light,
ask her where she thinks the cracks come from,
give her Auschwitz, give her Torquemada, give her pogrom and
quota and blacklist, the ashes of all her burnt bridges,
give her avinu malkenu, ashamnu, ashamnu, ashamnu,Â
watch her breakÂ
her heart
with her fist.
Give her the shofar. Â
Let the horn steal her breath,
let her begin to understand that sheâs not holding a dead piece of animal,
but a living prayer.
Teach her: after every blast
you can hear the echo
of the still small voice.
If you listen for it,
you can hear the calls for the wild cries they are;
salute them with a straight back when they yank you from your amidah;
and should you hear a shofar blower struggle and gasp and strain for each call,
imagine yourself a trapped animal, desperate to be heard.
When itâs over,
Close your eyes.
Be. Broken. Here. Â Before G-d and your people. Be. Cracked.
Treading the Veil: Graveyard Measuring, Soul Candles, & Beseeching the Dead in Ashkenazi Jewish Tradition
by Keziah Zibelmann
(citations, sources, and further reading can be found beneath this piece)
There is among the traditions of Ashkenazi Jewesses of Eastern Europe a custom steeped in symbolism, history, faith, and what some may deem superstition and magic â the practice of calling upon the spirits of the dead through feldmestn and keyver-mestn (cemetery and grave measuring), kneytlekh leygn (wick laying), and the making of neshome likht (soul candles).
[Feldmesterins conducting a feldmestn ritual, photographed by S. Weissenberg; photo courtesy of HathiTrust]
These customs were once quite common, practiced by the most pious and righteous of Jewish women in their communities, but slowly faded from practice and memory throughout the course of the 20th century. The traditions, however, are making a comeback, with various courses, articles, and podcasts focusing on these practices, as well as some Jewish community groups organizing rituals and workshops to perform these sacred traditions once more.
As to whether these rituals are considered as magic or religion (or even both), that is debated amongst those now learning about these traditions. It could be pointed out, though, that feldmestn and kneytlekh leygn can both be found in Nahum Stutchkoffâs Thesaurus of the Yiddish Language under kishef (magic).
Timing & Purpose:
Elul:
Cemetery and grave measuring were most commonly performed during the Jewish month of Elul, especially within the days just before Rosh Hashanah or during the eight days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur [1], and, some sources state, would have been carried out on Mondays and Thursdays [2]. It is believed that during the month of Elul, most particularly in the days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, the veil between the world of the living and that of the dead is thinner, and that it is, therefore, easier to make contact with and call upon our ancestors and dearly departed.
The dead were called upon to bless and protect the living, to serve as intermediaries and messengers who could deliver the prayers of the living to the heavenly courts or to g-d, or to directly bless the living themselves, often through granting them their protection and guidance or blessing them with traits the deceased in question were known for. The blessings and aid sought were specified in the prayers recited.
In times of illness or danger:
Cemetery and grave measuring were also performed when a life was at risk, particularly during times of severe illness [3] (especially if a child had fallen dangerously ill), plague, or some other form of danger, such as during a high-risk pregnancy or birth. It was believed that one could call upon the dead to speak on their behalf to g-d, to either (depending on the nature of the prayer recited) invoke g-d's protection for whomever may require it or to, instead, protect those in need from g-d's wrath.
The tradition of going to the grave and petitioning the dead for help in the case of severe illness is touched upon in the memoirs of Rabbi Tuviah Gutman Rapoport (Yizker Bukh Koriv, 1955; trans. Annabel Gottfried Cohen) â
If someoneâs child â G-d forbid â became unwell, one usually began by exorcising a âgood eyeâ (as an evil eye was called euphemistically). If that didnât help, the feldsher (healer) was called (there was no doctor in Koriv at the time). If the healerâs remedies also didnât help, people ran into the synagogue, said prayers and cried by the open ark, and if the situation â G-d forbid â really became very bad, they had to turn to the last resort â they ran to measure the cemetery.
To exorcise or return spirits to their rightful realm:
Some sources detail the feldmestn or keyver-mestn rituals as being one method of dealing with unwanted or angered spirits [4]. Particularly if one knew the identity of the spirit and could access their grave, it is believed that the custom of grave measuring and the recitation of prayers could be performed at the spiritâs grave, with the person using the prayer to attempt to coax the spirit to return to the realm of the dead. If the spirit was angry with or haunting the person in question, the prayers would have likely involved apologies and asking for forgiveness, in hopes that atoning for oneâs wrongs would please the spirit.
Feldmestn, Keyver-Mestn, & Dead Thread:
Feldmestn â cemetery measuring â was a sacred tradition, one that was carried out, most usually, by very pious Jewish women. These women were ritualists known as feldmesterins, and they were seen as âkeepers of an important connection between the living and the dead.â (Gottfried, Annabel Cohen; the Forgotten Womenâs Rituals of Yom Kippur, 2020) [5] Some sources depict this act of graveyard measuring and the subsequent custom of making soul candles as being connected to the mitzvah calling for women to kindle and keep Shabbat candles and festival lights, a belief that only further underscores the respectability of these traditions.
[Jewish cemetery in Eindhoven, Netherlands by Pascal Vugts]
The feldmesterins, itâs said, could be found near or in the cemeteries in the days of Elul, waiting with thread in hand to perform the feldmest and keyver-mestn rituals for anyone in need of them. Thread was required for these rituals, as this was the tool used to measure the cemetery or graves and, also, to make the wicks for the candles that followed the taking of these measurements. The thread used was known as âdead thread,â and was handmade by the ritualists. An incantation would be said over the thread whilst it was being made, though, thus far, no surviving text relaying the incantation used has been found. Dead thread served other uses as well, and could be worn around the ankles, neck, or wrists as a memorial object, or could be donated to the needy as an act of charity. Indeed, there was emphasis on using ritual objects such as the dead thread or the soul candles themselves to help others or perform good deeds, i.e. donating the thread (or, in some cases, linen that was used instead of thread) to the poor or donating the candles to be used to light the houses of study or worship.
When performing the feldmestn, at least two women were required, though some sources note that whomever requested the ritual may also walk the graveyard behind the feldmesterins reciting tkhines (Yiddish prayers) of their own as they went. The feldmestn was carried out starting from the graveyardâs entrance or boundary. There is some variation amongst sources as to how the ritual would be performed. One method calls for one person to remain at the cemeteryâs entrance, holding in their hand the end of the ball of thread. The rest of the thread was carried by the other feldmesterin as they walked the graveyardâs perimeter. This person would unroll the ball of thread as they walked, reciting tkhines or singing traditional songs all the while. It is further specified in some sources that they would walk clockwise around the graveyard. When this person returned to where they started, meeting the person holding the other end of the thread once more, they would then cut the thread from the ball and tie the two ends of the thread together.
Per Rabbi Tuviah Gutman Rapoportâs memoirs (Yizker Bukh Koriv, 1955; trans. Annabel Gottfried Cohen) [3] â
Two women went to the cemetery fence. They had with them a very long thread (the thread could not be the kind used by tailors, but was that wool thread with which socks were mended. The thread had also been endowed with supernatural powers through an incantation).
When both women arrived at the cemetery edge, they stopped and took the big ball of thread out of one of their pockets. One of them took one end of the thread, held it firmly in her hand, and, in order to keep it strong and precise, tied it around her finger. The other woman started to walk around the edge of the cemetery with the thread in her hand and continued this way until the two women came together. Then they tied the two ends together, encircling the cemetery.
While tying the ends, they said the following prayer: Raboyne shel oylem, azoy vi mir beyde hobn getsoygn dem fodem mit undzer gantsn koyekh, un der fodem iz nisht ibergerisn gevorn, azoy zoln botl vern ale betze koykhes. Dem tayern kins lebn zol kholile nisht ibergerisn vern. (Master of the universe, since we both pulled the thread with all our power, and the thread was not broken, shall all evil powers come to naught. The dear childâs life shall not â G-d forbid â be cut short.)
Another method instead describes the two feldmesterin walking together around the graveyard whilst they took the measurements [3]. This was done by one of them holding the ball of thread, and the other holding the end of the thread in one hand and a bit of grass or earth from the graveyard in the other hand. They would walk together, side-by-side, and the person holding the ball of thread would slowly, steadily unravel the thread and pass it to their partner as they walked. Meanwhile, the other feldmesterin would accept the thread and then move that thread over, around, or through the hand that holds the grass or earth as they wind the thread back up into a second ball. The passing of the thread over the grass or earth from the graveyard seems to be linked to a belief that the earth or grass of the cemetery further strengthened or provided connection between the living and the dead as this ritual was worked. When the pair of feldmesterin have travelled the perimeter of the cemetery and made their return to the entrance they started from, the second ball, that which had been formed whilst walking and taking the measurements, is what will be used as the wick for the soul candles, and it is cut free from what remains of the first ball.
In both versions of this ritual, tkhines are recited or songs are sung while the feldmestn is carried out.
Keyver-mestn [2] â the measuring of a single grave â involved a slightly different method than what was used for feldmestn. Keyver-mestn could be performed with just one person. They would go to a specific grave, typically the grave of a recently departed or significant family member, loved one, or close friend of/to whomever the ritual was being carried out for. The ball of dead thread was taken to this grave, and the end of the thread was place on the ground at the upper right corner of the grave. The thread is then unrolled, moving around the grave and marking its perimeter. Once the thread has outlined the area of the whole grave, the thread should be cut at the point where the start and end of the thread would meet. This thread is then, as in the rituals for feldmestn used to make the wick for the soul candle.
[A feldmesterin performed the keyver-mestn ritual whilst the woman who requested the ritual stands at the grave and recited tkhines/prayers; photograph by S. Weissenberg; photo courtesy of HathiTrust]
Again, prayers are spoken whilst this work is performed. Typically, the prayers for keyver-mestn would take on a more personal tone, as one is praying to the spirit that they seek to invoke the protection or blessings of.
In both feldmestn and keyver-mestn, there is immense symbolic importance within the act of drawing the thread around the graveyard or grave, marking a boundary between the living and the dead [1], between these two realms; while simultaneously forging a deliberate connection between the living and the dead. This is done by walking the earth of the cemetery, by reciting prayers, by singing songs, by calling on the spirits, by physically going to a place steeped in death to be surrounded by the dead while acting on behalf of the living. This, again, highlights the importance the role of feldmesterin was within these communities, as these women ritualists played a significant and highly respected role in tending the veil and maintaining the boundary between life and death, the living and the dead.
Tkhines, Prayers, & Songs for Graveyard Measuring:
This tkhine [6] was recorded in Groyser Verterbukh fun der Yidisher Shrpakh (a dictionary of the Yiddish language; trans. by Annabel Gottfried Cohen):
Vi der fodem tsit zikh, azoy zol zikh tsien zayn lebn.
As the thread is extended, so shall (the suffererâs) life be extended.
If the thread broke, this was recited:
Vi der fodem rayst ziky, azoy zol zikh opraysn zayn khoylas.
As the thread breaks, so shall (the suffererâs) illness be broken.
A portion of a traditional song [1] for feldmestn from Pruzhany, Poland (recorded by A. Fayvushinsky; trans. by Annabel Gottfriend Cohen):
Khâhob a mame, Tseytele
Far it neshome, a kneytele
Dreyt men dos fedeml shtark
Lang, lang.
I have a mama, Tsetele.
For her, a kneytele (candle wick)
The thread is spun, strong
Long, long.
A prayer used by Gitele di Gabete [3] when, while performing the keyver-mestn for child suffering severe illness, the thread snapped and broke (which was seen as a possible affirmation that the child in question would not recover and would, instead, die) â per Rabbi Tuviah Gutman Rapoportâs memoirs (trans. by Annabel Gottfried Cohen):
But Gitele â a skilled gabete with a sharp mind and an eloquent tongue â quickly thought of something on the spot, varying her prayer without skipping a beat: âRaboyne shel oylem! Azoy vi der fodem hot zikh ibergerisn, azoy zol ivergerisn bern dey beyzer gzardiân!â (Master of the universe! Just as the thread was broken, shall the menacing decree of punishment also be broken!)
A tkhine to be used in the case of an epidemic [5] (trans. by Annabel Gottfried Cohen):
Zol keyner nit feln in undzer gvul.
Let no one be missing from our boundary.
(This was said to ensure that the protection and blessings of good health applied to the entire community).
A prayer for keyver-mestn [2] (recorded by S. Weissenberg in 1906 and translated by Annabel Gottfried Cohen):
Tayerer foter (muter un dos laykh), dayn tokhter (nomen) hot zikh matrikh geven tsu kumen tsu die un dayn keyver tsu mestn, zay-zhe zikh matriekh far it un it man un ite kinder far got tsu betn. Dermutikn zikh in dayn frierdiker libshaft un helf it (un azoy vayter)âŠ
Dearest father (mother/grandparent etc.), your daughter (or granddaughter/friend/sibling/etc.) [name] has taken the trouble to come to you and to measure your grave. Take the trouble to pray to g-d for her and her husband and her children. Muster in yourself your earlier love and help her (etc.)âŠ
Kneytlekh Leygn & Candle Making:
There are a few different candles associated with these rituals â neshome likht (soul candles; candles made in honor of the dead that would be lit on Yom Kippur or donated to the synagogue or school), lebedike likht (living candle, prepared by those who sought blessings for themselves or people in their lives), gezunte likht (healthy candle, it seems this applied to candles prepared when beseeching supernatural aid in the case of dangerous illness or risk of loss of life, or to candles made to ensure blessings of good health), and even candles made for âthe Maccabee festivalâ (khanike/chanukkah) [2].
The wicks were taken to the synagogue where the ritual of kneytlekh leygn [2] (the laying of wicks) would be performed. The threads were handed over to a likhtmakherin (a woman candle-maker), who took the threads and measured each of them âaccording to a previously indicated lengthâ (that is, the person who had commissioned the making of these candles would specify the height they wished the candle to stand at). As the ritual thread couldnât be cut (each wick consisting of the entire, unbroken length of thread), this would sometimes involve the thread being doubled (or even tripled) over on itself.
Two candles were often made during this ritual â a candle far di gezente and a candle far di toyte (a candle for the healthy and a candle for the dead). Some sources note that the candle for the healthy would be made âlonger and thickerâ [2] than the candle for the dead, likely to symbolize oneâs hope for a long, good life. White threads would also be added, incorporated into the wick, when making candles for the living, which was to distinguish these candles from those intended for the dead. While the wicks are being made for the candles for living, itâs said that the customers would âspeak directly to it,â [1] specifying whom the candle was being made for and all of their wishes and the blessings they seek for that person.
When making the candle for the dead, the matriarchs and patriarchs of Judaism are named, along with the deceased loved ones for whom the candles are intended to call upon or burn in memory of. Neshome likht would be lit at the synagogue on Yom Kippur (if they werenât donated to be used to light the houses of learning or worship beforehand). Lebedike likht were also lit on Yom Kippur, but they would be lit in the home by the woman of the house or the family matriarch. It was believed that doing this would bless the home with safety, protection, and happiness, as well as deter misfortune for the year to come.
If there were any remaining threads after the kneytlekh leygn, they could be used as wicks in the making of chanukkah cnadles.
The stumps and leftovers of the soul candles can also be used to invoke blessings and protection later on [7]. Itâs noted, for example, in Marek Tuszewickiâs A Frog Under the Tongue that the stumps of soul candles could be used as havdole (Havdalah) candles [8], and that using these stumps is believed to bring good money in throughout the week.
Y.Y. Trunk writes of how they were used on the day of his motherâs wedding â
âAunt Royze [âŠ] had brought from her home the remains of the melted down wax Yom Kippur candles, which she had been collecting for years. She now lit these soul-candle-pieces in the brideâs house. The candles smoked like chimneys. The sweet smell of wax filled the room. Grimacing and waving her hands as if blessing holiday candles, Grandmother Khaye and Aunt Royze said tkhines over the burning Yom Kippur wax, interspersed with incantation to protect the bride from the evil eye.â [9]
On the Importance of Remembering & Rekindling Our Traditions & Rituals:
I feel quite passionately about the study of our history and traditions like these, which are so rich with distinctly Jewish symbolism, folk belief, and faith, and I am so very grateful for people like Annabel Gottfried Cohen, who have dedicated so much time and effort to translating our written histories, archiving them, and sharing them with the world, providing essential information and education to people, like myself, who would otherwise have seen these traditions lost to time.
While there are those who would argue that these traditions are âtoo superstitiousâ and donât âfitâ with what they want to see from contemporary Judaism, I instead believe that we have lost so much of our culture and our beliefs to attempt to make Judaism smaller, more 'sensible', more palatable to the rest of the world, and I can understand why this was pursued throughout our history; but, oh, what a shame it would be to give up so much of ourselves in pursuit of being accepted by a world that has never and will never fully accept us as being like them. We will always be seen as being outside, so all that we sacrificed of our customs, lore, and beliefs was done in vain. Why, then, continue to limit ourselves and water ourselves down? Why continue to bury such beautiful and significant practices when we could instead revitalize them, perhaps even better connecting us with those ancestors who kept and kindled these customs in their lifetimes?
I would like to turn to Annabel Gottfried Cohen in closing this piece, for it seems fitting that the words of the woman without whom none of this would have been possible, see us off â âRather than seeing these as magical practices that existed for centuries alongside Judaism, I would argue that these rituals are examples of the magical aspects of Judaism itself and of the huge transformations in Jewish practice that have taken place in just the last century. Demonstrating that the so-called disenchantment of the world and of Judaism with it was neither fast nor inevitable, these rituals are a reminder that the line between magic and religion has always been a thin one.â
SOURCES, CITATIONS, & FURTHER READING:
Note: This piece would never have been possible without the tireless work of translator and historian Annabel Gottfried Cohen; those, like Rabbi Tuviah Gutman Rapoport and anthropologist S. Weissenberg, who came before us and recorded our histories; and the Jewish educators, religious leaders, and organizers seeking to teach on and revitalize these traditions, such as Rabbi Noam Lerman, the Worker's Circle, and the Kohenet Priestess Institute. I am endlessly grateful for their dedication to preserving and educating about our history.
CITATIONS:
[1] Cohen, Annabel Gottfried (2024) Yom Kippur Cemetery/Grave Measuring and Soul Candle Making: A Ritual Guide [per Ritual Well: https://ritualwell.org/blog/cemetery-grave-measuring-and-soul-candle-making-a-ritual-guide/]
[2] Weissenberg, S. (1906) Das Feld-und das Kejwermessen from Mitteilungen zur jĂŒdischen Volkskunde (pgs. 39-45) [https://www.jstor.org/journal/mittjudivolk]; trans. Cohen, Annabel Gottfried (2024) [https://pullingatthreads.com/2024/07/23/cemetery-and-grave-measuring/]
[4] Maimon, Solomon and Goldschmidt, A.Y. (1927)Â Shelomoh Maymons Lebensgeshikhte; trans. Cohen, Annabel Gottfried (2024) [https://pullingatthreads.com/2024/09/04/grave-measuring-to-assuage-an-angry-spirit-an-extract-from-salomon-maimons-memoirs/]
[5] Cohen, Annabel Gottfried (2020)Â The Forgotten Womenâs Rituals of Yom Kippur [per Vashti: https://vashtimedia.com/the-forgotten-womens-rituals-of-yom-kippur/]
[7] Joffe, Judah Achilles and Yudel, Mark (1961)Â Groyser áčżeráčerbukh fun der Yidisher shprakh [https://www.yiddishbookcenter.org/collections/yiddish-books/spb-nybc201084/joffe-judah-achilles-mark-groyser-verterbukh-fun-der-yidisher-shprakh-vol-1]
[8]Tuszewicki, Marek (2021)Â A Frog Under the Tongue: Jewish Folk Medicine in Eastern Europe; trans. Taylor-Kucia, Jessica
[9]Cohen, Annabel Gottfried (2024)Â âShelooked one of the witches from Macbeth, but a folksy, Jewish versionâ â Soul Candle Magic from Y.Y. Trunkâs Poland [https://pullingatthreads.com/2024/07/28/she-looked-one-of-the-witches-from-macbeth-but-a-folksy-jewish-version-soul-candle-magic-from-y-y-trunks-poland/?ref=vashtimedia.com]
SOURCES & FURTHER READING:
A Frog Under the Tongue: Jewish Folk Medicine in Eastern Europe - Tuszewicki, Marek (2021)
Ashkenazi Folk Magic at the Threshold (podcast episode) - Kafrissen, Rokhl (2024)
A tkhine for making Yom Kippur soul candles - Cohen, Annabel Gottfried (2024) [https://pullingatthreads.com/2024/07/29/a-tkhine-for-making-yom-kippur-soul-candles/]
Cemetery and Grave Measuring - Cohen, Annabel Gottfried (2024)
Cemetery/Grave Measuring and Soul Candle Making: A Ritual Guide - Cohen, Annabel Gottfried (2024) [https://ritualwell.org/blog/cemetery-grave-measuring-and-soul-candle-making-a-ritual-guide/]
Cemetery Measurers & Soul Candle Makers: feldmesterins and kneytlekh-leygerins - Cohen, Annabel Gottfried (2024)
Der Groyser Verterbukh fun der Yidisher Shprakh - Joffe, Judas Achikles & Yudel, Mark (1961)
Gitele the pious gabete of Koriv - Cohen, Annabel Gottfried (2024)
Grave measuring to assuage an angry spirit â an extract from Salomonâ Maimonâs memoirs - Cohen, Annabel Gottfried (2024)
Making Soul Candles: a female-led Jewish ritual revived - Cohen, Annabel (2020) [https://forward.com/culture/455139/making-soul-candles-a-female-led-jewish-ritual-revived/]
Mitteilungen zur jĂŒdischen Volkskunde - Weissenberg, S. (1906)
Petitioning the ancestors - Cohen, Annabel Gottfried (2024)
Pinkes fun finf fartilikte kehiles - Fayvushinksy, A. (1958)
Pulling at Threads - https://pullingatthreads.com/
Songs and prayers for cemetery measuring (and what we can learn from them) - Cohen, Annabel Gottfried (2024)
Tkhine for candle making on Erev Yom Kippur - bat Tovim, Sarah (circa early 18th cent.) [https://opensiddur.org/prayers/lunisolar/days-of-judgement-new-year-days/yom-kippur/tkine-for-candlemaking-on-erev-yom-kippur-by-sarah-bat-tovim/]
The Forgotten Women's Rituals of Yom Kippur - Cohen, Annabel Gottfried (2020) [https://vashtimedia.com/the-forgotten-womens-rituals-of-yom-kippur/]
There are few particularly religious women in town ⊠who also measure the cemetery. - Cohen, Annabel Gottfriend (2024)
singing along to an elul playlist on spotify while drivingâŠ
I went so long without listening to any music in my car because of a history of it triggering migraines that I forgot that singing along also triggers the nerve pain in my throat to get worse again :/
