Yom Kippur - establishing new patterns
Summary: On Yom Kippur, the goal is to become aware not just of the moments we wish we had back, but of the patterns that undergird and produce those moments. We confess ten times as we become more and more aware of those patterns and structures.
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I spent a not-insignificant amount of time over Rosh Hashanah grilling. Literally grilling actual meat. In addition to vastly improving my grilling skills under the tutelage of a highly experienced and exceedingly generous Moroccan fellow named Eli, I also meditated on the act of grilling (as one might meditate on whatever one finds one’s self doing on Rosh Hashanah). All grilling metaphors aside, I was simply acknowledging the fact that I was grilling on Rosh Hashanah, the Day of Judgment, the great and awesome day, the birthday of the world - and I was deeply enjoying it. I was relaxed and happy, pleased to provide a service for others, pleased to be learning some new skills, pleased to be laughing and carefree. And I want my year to include ample relaxation and happiness, providing a service for others, learning new skills, laughing and being carefree.
Obviously there is no self-respecting Rosh Hashanah guide that says “good idea to grill for first night dinner, as lunch the next day, and then again for dinner the second night, and yet again for lunch the second day.” Most of the good books speak of identifying and noticing the patterns and behaviors that create the world we live in, with the awareness that we can observe the choices we make that establish those patterns and behaviors, and then set new courses according to our values. The really good books tell us to observe what we do and how we be, pay close attention to what happens and why, to remember that we have the capacity to choose, and start making choices in another direction. And to do this, grilling is as good an activity as any in order to observe one’s attitudes and behaviors.
As I grilled and observed, I got a glimpse into those essential, non-negotiable elements that make me me and make my life my life. Friends, food, joy, providing, gratitude, mood. Those elements will be with me in one way or another forever. Because, hey, in most senses we are not getting any younger. We’re probably not going to make massive changes in lifestyle. As we grow up, we take on more and more commitments that require real and consistent of time and energy and caring - family, friendships, volunteering, learning, teaching, caring for our bodies and minds, caring for our stuff. Those things aren’t going anywhere. So, on Rosh Hashanah I look around and say - OK! This is what I’ve got. This is my world. Spouse, kids, body, work, family, world, learning, teaching, friends, community. Now, what do I want my world to look like? How am I operating within all those realms, and why? What are the patterns? Why are they there? Where can I make different choices? What do I need in order to do so - what skills, what sorts of support, what knowledge? How do I get those? How do I love myself as I try to build that world?
What’s important to me in this is that I’m looking at patterns more than individual actions. My teshuva is less concerned with that one thing I said to that person and more concerned with the patterns and systems and assumptions that make it possible. Not that the thing I did is not important - I need to address that. But I want to make sure I’m also looking upstream at what made that possible, and doing what I can to shift. (By the way, that’s why we confess the same things 10 times on Yom Kippur - level one is what I did. Levels 2-10 are why I did them.)
And then you start. You start building new patterns, one choice at a time amidst the world in which you currently live, and you start making your world into the world you want to live in. An image that works well for me is one of planting a garden. On Rosh Hashanah you plant a garden - or, maybe, a garden is planted within you. And your job each day is to do a day’s worth of caring for your garden. All those hopes and plans, insights and aspirations - they are all seeds. And each day, all you have to do is take care of them for that day. Water, weed, feed the soil. Learn, pray, connect. You see that groundhogs are eating your kale, so you get a fence and put it up. And you see that reading the news too much is infringing on your capacity to laugh more, so you remove the app from your phone.
Rosh Hashanah gives us a glimpse of the patterns and assumptions, the trends, the structures that hold us and offers us a chance to shift them. And then, the work begins, and is done every day for the rest of the year - each day with its own contributions to shifting those patterns and making my world a world I genuinely want to live in.