For Rashi (and a number of other commentators), the chronology of the Torah was not the construction of the Mishkan, and then the sin of the Calf, but first the sin and then the erection of the Mishkan as a sign of atonement and closure. Yet to forgive does there not have to be some level of forgetting?

Avivah Zornberg suggests that there are different ways of forgetting?

Discussion: Is prayer, then, a reminder of "getting knocked down" yet knowing that we have the capacity to "get up again"?

Perhaps it is meant to remind us of the suffering of the Hebrews in their slavery - and how the narrative of redemption is about a perspective of hope, to feel redemption will come even while acknowledging pain. The Pesach narrative, then, may be about seeing that our inner "sanctuary."

For the cloud of the Eternal was upon the Sanctuary by day, and fire was on it by night... This is a lesson for every person. Each person is considered to be like a sanctuary in their own right, and when good fortune shines upon them, they should always be aware of the cloud that can come and darken their life. On the other hand, when things are bad and everything is dark around them, they should not despair, because the sun will yet shine.

The reason that the Tabernacle had to be completely dismantled each time...was that their trek through the desert was intended to elevate the 'sparks' that had fallen off the Divine Presence, a task that would be accomplished in stages each time it was erected again. ...

When the Tabernacle was dismantled, the holy attributes of God might have the opportunity to be used negatively, e.g. for the attribute of love to be used for loving what is evil. So the Israelites in the desert...had become instrumental in contributing to the restoration of God's Presence to its full glory. ... As soon as the Jewish people became aware that they had become an instrument for restoring one of the 'sparks' of the Divine Presence, they would re-erect the Tabernacle and make a point of observing the commandments associated with that attribute meticulously. ...

So it was the act of dismantling the Tabernacle that had granted these 'sparks' the opportunity to rehabilitate themselves. ... Note that the 'sparks' themselves are not only to be viewed as parts of the Divine Presence that had somehow gone astray, but they symbolize parts of the human personality which were in need of rehabilitation.

The mandatory multiple cycles of building and tearing down ... powerfully hint at a crucial realization. Man will fail. He may fail many times. Each time he fails, without exception, he cannot lose faith or motivation. He must pick himself up and immediately try again. He may build his sanctuary, and then see it not only threatened or breached, but toppled completely. When that happens, he should not fall into depression or melancholy, but once again begin the process of building the next Tabernacle. Moses did this twice a day, morning and evening. ... The serial assemblings and dismantlings of the Tabernacle point as well to another important part of our spiritual work. We must be prepared to inspect the quality of what we have built, constantly reevaluating all details of its construction, looking for small flaws we may have been unaware of in the original construction. There is no end to the upgrading work we can do to make our personal Sanctuary even more effective.

Jewish sources use several terms to name the soul-trait of undisturbed equanimity, the most descriptive of which is menuchat hanafesh, calmness of the soul. The Mussar teachers see the importance of a calm soul, but they don't see that inner state as a final station called "Peace and Tranquility" where the journey ends, even as life continues. Instead, they view equanimity as an inner balance that coexists with a world and an experience that accepts turbulence and even turmoil, because that's just the way life is.

In the Jewish view, the goal of spiritual life is not to reach an enlightened state in which all the questions and conundrums of life are unknotted with finality, but rather to become much more skilled at the processes of living. This view applies fully to the soul-trait of equanimity, which does not spell the end of our struggles, rather is an inner quality we can cultivate to equip ourselves to handle the inevitable ups and downs of life.