I potok-ularly like reading POTOK!

I'm following the conclusions of yiddishkeit there for my perusal via Potok's spin on Jewish up-bringing. I see myself assess from a cntr.-my cntr., which leads to expectations like: this is Jewish because..., but I can't finish. Yet the cntr. is never exasperated and I demand more. Religion is to me these few moments: a cntr. unfulfilled yet dwelled upon the constraint as if no other thing could have brought me to it. The human condition to be naturally parasitic is relieved of its affect on me, because change begins with me, & I'm not trying to convey expectations on anyone else. If asceticism is a product of danger (desperation is desire's brain), then I am rehabilitated, because a healthy mindset means the path I am on is from the minutiae of where we are all prone to lead i.e. solitude.
****Shlomo Almeoli's is one of the numerous books Potok mentions as curricular to what has developed as an immersion into the secular encumbering the ascetic. A character would find resourceful allies in literature shared from an anonymous world or perhaps a mystical old lady, from which, in this case this Book of Dreams is proffered. I see the world unqualified to go along for the ride as an illustrated artful world of ideas allows the characters to close doors, and we find their eyes adjusting to abstractions out of which the material world ceases to be observed. Books within books, threading tendrils which hook me into an evolving surveillance of the zwischenmench (in-between man); everybody is half of something!