Wednesday, September 24, 2014

The Blessing of Wonder

When we say things like "people don't change" it drives scientists crazy, because change is literally the only constant in all of science. Energy. Matter. It's always changing, morphing, merging, growing, dying. It's the way people try not to change that's unnatural. The way we cling to what things were instead of letting things be what they are. The way we cling to old memories instead of forming new ones. The way we insist on believing despite every scientific indication that anything in this lifetime is permanent. Change is constant. How we experience change that's up to us. It can feel like death or it can feel like a second chance at life. If we open our fingers, loosen our grips, go with it, it can feel like pure adrenaline. Like at any moment we can have another chance at life. Like at any moment, we can be born all over again.
Well said by one of my favorite philosophers - Meredith, on Grey's Anatomy

Rosh Hashana is built into our calendar as the time when we can stop and look back at the changes that have happened in our lives in the bite-sized piece of one year. As I do this, I'm startled by the changes I have experienced this year. 

In my personal life, my husband and I made a counter-intuitive decision to buy and renovate a large old Victorian house and property. Empty nesters aren't supposed to upsize, but we did. It has been the most joyful thing we have ever done, except for bringing three children into this world and watching them grow into wonderful men.

In my work life, I can't begin to count the changes in the last year. We reorganized our departmental structure, said farewell to several dedicated colleagues, brought new people on board, and all of us had to adjust to new roles. My position has changed and my job title is new. I can already feel the changes in my interactions with people within and outside United Synagogue.

The writers of Grey's Anatomy put the words in Meredith's mouth, but they could just as easily be mine. Opening up to the possibilities of change does feel like pure adrenaline.

The liturgy of Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur recognizes that feeling. There's a reason why these days are called the Days of Awe. We blow the shofar every morning, and hearing it is a visceral wake up call to pay attention in a different way than the rest of the year.

So for the coming year, what I wish for myself and for everyone is the blessing of wonder - that each day we find moments when we loosen our tight grip on how we perceive the world. Each moment of wonder can be like the sound of a shofar, awakening us to see our second chance at life.

L'shana tova u'metuka.