The Yamim Noraim always arouse in me a special state of mind. It is during this time of the year with the advent of the Days of Awe (what we commonly refer to as the High Holy Days), that I reflect more than usual at the year’s passage and the state of my life bound up as it is with the lives of those I love. I enter the Synagogue, renew the bonds of acquaintances and friends, and sadly see the empty seats of those whom the Almighty took to his own personal Shul. I look at new faces and wonder who they are, and every year realize that, with the passage of time, I have changed and my relationships have shifted. If this is true for me, I assume it is similarly true for many of you.


This period of time is also a time for reflection: “What are the things that I wanted to change last year?” “What did I wish for last year?” “Are they the same as my wishes for myself and my loved ones this coming year?” I guess if we look back far enough into ourselves, some of those wishes and desires are rooted in our very being, and are continuously repeated every year. Some of those desires are, no doubt, beyond our power, but some of them are capable of being fulfilled even though they may be less than hoped for.


When we are born and when we die is truly not within our power. The risks of living and dying can be adjusted, for Hashem has given us that power. What we eat and how or if we exercise; how we manage stress and our outlook on life are all capable of change, and this time of the year beckons us; calls to us to change. But why is it that, for the most part, we do not change? Why is it that for most of us, we contemplate the future, recognize its possibilities and its dangers, acknowledge that we should make changes, but do not manage to accomplish this?


Part of the answer lies in our very nature. We are creatures of habit and habits are difficult to change. The neuro-patterns that permit us our shortcuts in life (our habits) are now part of our very being. They were not so when we were infants. What has been true of our physical and cognitive paths is equally true of our spiritual possibilities. We have come to accept ourselves for what we are and are either happy with ourselves and our lives, or wish to change. That change, however, requires effort and vision and hoped-for growth. To enable this to succeed, we must substitute another set of habits – better habits than the old ones. We must undo the old patterns and replace them with new ones.
But inertia stifles our growth. We often fail to see (certainly in our spiritual lives) the possibilities for meaning and joy that might accompany this change. Furthermore, who wants to work hard? Yet, that is the purpose of these days – to seek to do Teshuvah – to reflect, to judge ourselves, to note the change required and to exercise that feat of the Will that will enable us to be what we can be – better than what we now are.


Chavie and I wish for you what we have always wished for ourselves – a long and healthy life, surrounded by family, by loving children, grandchildren, and perhaps even great-grandchildren – filled with the knowledge that Hashem’s Torah is the blueprint for a meaningful and joyous life.