Reflections for the last day of the year….Ah, Rosh Hashana. You always sneak up on me.
As it always seems to happen, it feels like a scramble to the finish line. In a sprint to end things off on a good note and soak in the last juices of the year, we often forget to think about what happens the day after. We prepare, we learn, we pray, we cook (and cook, and cook, and cook…), we prepare to show up fresh faced and ready for judgement before our creator. We do our best to brush up on any changes that lay dormant throughout the year, hoping that this last ditch effort of the last day of the year will kick us in the pants and force us to face better resolutions and changes for the year to come. We enter Rosh Hashana with a preparedness. Let’s do this thing.
But then, Rosh Hashana ends, and immediately (if not during), we become swept up in the dramas of everyday life. The days of preparing and the day itself seem to fade away into the distance, along with the hopes and dreams we conjured up in preparation for the new year. Life goes on, and the changes we planned on making hang out in our wallet like the old gym membership we never used.
Every year, as the New Year approaches, we make vows and resolve to do better, be better, to strive for our dreams, to be kinder, gentler, more patient, and (insert your resolution here). I think that the way we make these resolutions set us up for failure throughout the year. As the year progresses, the changes we vowed to make taunt us like a ticking time bomb—look at all the things you haven’t done yet. Look at how far behind you are. You might as well give up before you even begin.
Let’s talk about vows for a second:
The textbook definition of the word vow is “a solemn promise.”
Guys, none of us know how to keep a solemn promise. In fact, we kick off Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the year, with Kol Nidrei, a prayer which absolves us every vow or promise that we have made or will make in the coming year as a form of protecting us from not holding ourselves accountable to our own commitments.
Why do we do this?
Change is a lifetime commitment. Say that out loud with me: Change. Is. A. Lifetime Commitment.
Deciding that you want to change requires strapping on some heavy duty boots, waterproof gear, and a backpack full of provisions and wading into some really heavy stuff. It’s choosing to get comfortable with the nitty gritty for the rest of your life.
That’s a big commitment. No wonder we make excuses for why we can’t.
It’s really scary to commit to something forever.
Consider another thing: Change itself isn’t constant. The things you choose to change will be different over time. So, yes, change is constant, as in, it continues to happen, but it won’t always happen the same way. We like comfort. We like knowing that a decision we make is going to stick. Change uproots all of that. Making changes means observing your life and making adjustments, big or small, again and again and again.
Why would anyone want to commit to that much work?
No wonder Kol Nidrei comes around to absolve us. We see commitments as all or nothing. You’re either in or you’re out, buddy. Take your pick.
Listen. It doesn’t have to be this way. In fact, it shouldn’t be this way. We’re not machines that are hardwired to operate on one mode forever.
Here and now, on the cusp of a New Year, ask yourself what you’re doing with the energy that you could be using on changing. Energy is energy is energy. The way you use it is up to you.
I have a tendency to waste a lot of my energy on excuses. It’s really easy to make excuses. It’s easier to surrender into feeling bad for yourself, to comparing yourself, to look at your weakness. In fact, neurologically, we’re hardwired to find the negative side of everything. It’s a survival instinct guys.
Ah, survival. Our reptilian brains know how to protect us from the harsh elements of the world, be them physical, mental, or emotional.
Last week, we learned about the relatively of surviving versus thriving. What I want to propose is that while there are times when survival mode is necessary and healthy, it’s also a double-edged sword that becomes an excuse for staying small, staying in the dark, and hiding.
Is this the year we stand up and decide that enough is enough?
I hope so.
We’re hardwired to be prepared. We’re also hardwired for connection. With ourselves, with G-d, with nature, with people. We’re not meant to live alone in our comfortable little bubbles.
Life is a battle between these two sides of us: the side wired for negativity, and the side wired for positivity (i.e. the bad inclination and the good inclination).
Choosing to change requires effort, grit, and learning to be your own cheerleader. It requires you to get comfortable with choosing the good over the bad. It means recognizing that the journey you’re about to venture into is a lifelong journey.
It’s okay if the journey is slow. It’s okay if the destination changes. It doesn’t have to be a life alerting commitment. You don’t have to decide to change your entire life right now.
What matters is that you start with a firm commitment to do your best.
That’s the best you can do.
Let’s do this thing, friends.
Shana Tova U’Metuka!