Words are everything.

Think about it. Our inner and outer words can be built up and as quickly destroyed with only a handful of words.

Thank you.

Excuse me.

I hate you.

I’m sorry.

When did we learn to define words? Did we listen to how other people used them? Did we look them up in dictionaries and stick to the typical, run of the mill definitions? Yes. But, guess what:

We are not run of the mill people, and I hardly think we’re looking for typical lives.

How did we learn to give words meaning. Mom, Dad. Happy. Sad. Up. Down. Physical. Spiritual.

Our parents molded us first, and then society. It’s not their fault. They taught us to speak and understand as their parents and societies before them, and so on and so far until the beginning of time.

Do we really know what these words mean?

I don’t think I know. And I’m ready for a lesson in redefinition.

There will come a time in your life, maybe now, maybe in thirty years time, when you will be somewhat forced to redefine your relationship with words. You’ll be forced to come to your own conclusions about how you use them, and why.

Often, that journey of redefining our vocabularies is filled with fear. As Elizabeth Gilbert says: Fear is boring.

(So says Elizabeth, so says I.)

It’s so much easier to live life the way you were taught to. But the hard way is so much more exciting and rewarding.

Do you know what my least favorite word is?

I’ll tell you:

Teshuvah.

Ugh. So heavy. So judgmental. So unattractive.

Teshuvah.

Repent.

Apologize

Beat yourself down.

Eh. Yuck. Excuse me while I cover my ears and pretend that I can’t hear you.

(lalalallalaaaa)

I hear that word, and I am immediately taken back to Hebrew School. Fourth grade. My Judaics teachers was the first woman I had ever come to fear as much as I feared God…she looked a lot like what I pictured God to look like: Old, gray, wrinkled, with a raspy voice and the tendency to shout whenever we fidgeted in our chairs. She had an unruly temper and a wicked stare. So, when see taught me the word Teshuvah for the first time— “to repent for all of the pain and hurt we’ve caused others”— I imagined God sitting there, somewhere in heaven, with a mallet, ready to knock out those of us who would repent profusely enough. I swallowed hard and struggled for air.

So many people to apologize to. So many mistakes made. My poor innocent child mind couldn’t handle it.

It wasn’t a pretty picture, let me tell ya.

Teshuvah. Ugh. We keep using that word, but does it actually mean what we’ve conditioned ourselves to believe it does?

The short answer? No. It really doesn’t.

Where did we come up with this absurd idea? The Hebrew root of Teshuvah is tashuv, to return. To return? Say what now? That doesn’t come close to representing what it means to repent or apologize. Those are phrases and things that live outside of you. Teshuvah, the act of returning, to your spiritual source and place, as well as to your ultimate, true self, is one that is fostered from within.

This is not meant to be an act of destruction, but rather, an act of building ourselves up to our highest potential. The act of Teshuvah is a positive act of returning to your source, to the coolest and most divine version of you.

According to Rabbi DovPer Pinson, author of Reclaiming the Self (On the Pathway to Teshuva), we’ve got it all wrong. And it’s time to make it right:

“…Teshuvah is more about a recalibration of the consciousness rather than a mere apology or confession of mistakes…it is the key to activity our ability to return to a conscious state of abundance on all levels (of life).”

How. Cool. Is. That. ?!

It turns out that all of the things we’ve come to collectively fear aren’t things we’re meant to fear because they aren’t real. The way we’ve come to define and understand language has caused us to approach Teshuvah with trepidation and a sense of panic. 

If we’ve been collectively defining one word incorrectly, what’s stopping us from butchering others the same way?

“Hello, Teshuvah. My name is Leigh. I’m sorry I misjudged you so harshly. Can we get to know each other better?”

Teshuvah. Ahhh. What a word. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?

It’s about time we take words into our own hands. Forget what you’ve been taught and let go of words as you understood them until now. Reintroduce yourself. Speak slowly. Think about what you mean and how the words you use sound to others.

This, my friends, is the first step on the path of Teshuvah.

Welcome. May your journeys be sweet, and may your words be your guiding light.