We have just concluded the holiday of Passover, a time when we tell the story of the escape from Egypt, a time that we bring life to the words of “let my people go.” We list the ten plagues that were sent to the Egyptians, increasing horrors to convince them that the Israelites must be set free. The story is, of course, one with a gratifying ending. And, as I often say flippantly, it boils down to “they tried to kill us, we survived, let’s eat.”

My memories of Passover are all centered around family. Sitting at the kid’s table in my grandmother’s house, reveling in the fun of being with my (many) cousins, while the serious process of conducting the Seder took place in the other room. As an adult, my memories are also family-focused, with my brother, his family and my family all gathered. Seders were more kid-friendly but the story remained the same as did the joy of being together.

Yet, for the last two years I have thought about freedom, and the celebration of freedom, differently than I had in the past. Of course, there is the terrible overlay of those hostages still trapped in Gaza and the concern we have for those innocent souls, in our own country, who are living in fear for their futures.

But I have also thought about freedom as a word, as a concept, we need to apply to ourselves. Our lives are filled with expectations and obligations. We hold ourselves to other’s standards and, even more critically, we hold ourselves to unrealistic standards we set. We find ourselves wanting. Every day. We are not smart enough, successful enough, good enough, thin enough, ambitious enough, talented enough . . . The list goes on and on.

And I wonder what life would be like if we were able to free ourselves of those self imposed bonds, if we were able to break the shackles of self doubt and self criticism, and find peace with who we are. God parted the Red Sea for Moses to allow the Israelites to escape. How do we part our own raging internal seas and free ourselves? How do we find our own unique peace? And, in that way, begin to fill our full hearts.