Changing Our Minds—A High Holiday Reflection
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The Jewish High Holidays are approaching, it's the season we celebrate four important holidays, starting with Rosh Hashanah (the Jewish New Year), followed by Yom Kippur (the day of atonement), then Sukkot (the harvest festival), and ending with Simchat Torah (the celebration of the Torah).
As I prepare to lead High Holiday services, I am reflecting on the traditional words and their meaning.
What does it mean to step into a new year (Rosh Hashanah)? What does Yom Kippur mean to me this year? How do I remember that life is impermanent (Sukkot)? And most importantly, what is the energy that I want to bring to the services?
The High Holidays are a time we confront the impermanence of life. During Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, we recite prayers that remind us that not all of us will be here next year. On Sukkot, we sit outside in temporary structures, looking up at the stars, lingering in an in-between space, noticing what it feels like to have limited shelter.
Why do we do this?
Life is always changing. As we get caught up in the busyness of life, we often search and try to find certainty. During our holy days, we make time and space to pause, and we are invited to notice our lack of control and certainty.
The evening of Yom Kippur, the holiest day in the Jewish calendar, begins with the Kol Nidrei prayer. It is a haunting melody that says all the vows we make from this Yom Kippur to the next shall be null and void. We recite this, as a community, in community. As we begin a 25 hour fast, dressed in white, we recite an ancient prayer, annulling all that we will promise to God and to ourselves.
WHY?
Taylor Tomlinson, a comedian that speaks about religious trauma, has a new book coming out called, “Actually, Nevermind.” It is a collection of essays about everything she has changed her mind on over the years—marriage, sex, mental health, coming out, God, everything.
When I watched a short video of her sharing this, I thought, “YES!!!!” We get to change our minds. We know that life is unpredictable and unstable and nothing is for certain. We know that our brain lulls us into a false sense of security. And this is the time of year that reminds us—actually, nevermind, we get to change our minds.
It is scary to do that, both for our nervous system, and in the world we are living in now. We want certainty. We want control. Most of us want to know what is right and what is true. We want this to orient ourselves, make sense of it all, and find our place within this big, overwhelming world.
If everything is always changing and uncertain, how do we know what is right? What is our guiding compass? What is our North Star?
Many years ago, I was reading Brené Brown's “Dare to Lead” book. In it she has an exercise where she asks us to choose one or two values that are ours—the values that have always been our guide post and which we want to bring forward. She explains that having too many values creates an environment in which we then don't have a clear goal post of where and what is our guide. She shares that she was sure that family would be one of her guiding values, however, as she narrowed her list to just two, she realized that faith was her value, and that her value around family, came out of her faith value.
So, of course, I sat down and looked at the value list and began figuring out what was mine. I was certain that faith would be one of mine. Surprisingly, it was crossed out pretty early on, because for me, my two main values are connection and integrity (autonomy), and my faith is an outgrowth of my connection value.
There is something really powerful for me to have my values be my north star rather than a belief system, or words that I say or promise. Life is uncertain and is always changing and as a human being, I want something to hold onto, I think most of us do. Belief systems are usually passed down to us from others, many of these systems are old and are no longer working in an ever changing world. Rooting into my values allows me to feel more stable as everything changes. It invites me to feel grounded in who I am and how I want to navigate this world, and it pushes me to be centered within myself, even during a storm.
My values make me re-examine my actions, my belief system, and the social norms that are placed upon me. They help me notice the impermanence of life and allow me to stay curious, to keep questioning, and allow me to grieve the things that I thought I knew.
It is the both / and. Life is impermanent, AND I get to step into what I want to center my life around.
For as long as I am here, BOTH can be true for me.
As we start this new year 5787, I am setting my New Year resolution as simply living into my values. To allow them to guide me.
When I stand in front of my community, chanting the Unetaneh Tokef prayer on Rosh Hashanah, reminding me of life's impermanence, I will pause and feel into the uncertainty of it all, the grief of not knowing who will be with us next year, and the fear of the unknown.
When I chant the Kol Nidrai on Yom Kippur eve, I will remember how much I truly don't know. How many times I have changed my mind about things, and how many times I have needed to go back on my words and beliefs. When I sit in our sukkah looking up at the stars, I will notice how flimsy my security actually is. Knowing that nothing is for certain, feeling the vulnerability of it all.
And at the end of the month, when I dance with the Torah and change the white covers we use only for the high holidays, back to their original colorful mantles, I will pause and try to bring all that I am learning into the year with me.
As we close the ark into a new year, I will give myself permission to walk into the mystery and uncertainty that is life.
Shana Tova.
A sweet new year.
A zissen yur.
Blessings,
Chani