Change is comin'

Last week I was home for Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish new year. On day two, one of our former rabbis delivered the sermon.

Rabbi Lazowski taught that shanah does not only mean “year” in Hebrew, (rosh being head, so head of the year) shanah also means “change.”

In what has been almost a year of writing this blog, I've done a lot of reflecting. I've done a lot of exploring. And now, I look back at the extensive life research I've done and work to draw some conclusions about where to go from here. As the new year kicks off, I’ve begun to truly think about what I want to change in myself, hopefully for the better.

Listening to the Rabbi speak, he spoke of change as a journey, "If we are not changing, we are not growing. And if we are not growing, we are not living." The old adage says that you can't teach an old dog new tricks, but according to the thickly-accented words of this Holocaust survivor...sure you can. You can teach any dog who is willing; anyone who is still living.

Of course, you have to train this dog. Change does not happen over night. Rabbi urged us to set manageable goals—a philosophy my yoga instructor, Amanda, echoed in my Saturday night class. Don't expect yourself to go full throttle from the start. If you want to become more educated in religion, aim to study five minutes a day, not to read the Bible in a week. If you want to become more fit and focused, aim to come to yoga once a week for three months, not three times a week for one week. Ease into change.

Rabbi also warned that change is not always for the better. Sometimes you make a detour down the wrong path. He told the story of a married couple: A husband and wife got into an argument, screaming at each other, unable to compromise. The husband quipped, "You should have married a better man." The wife answered, "I did." 

Not all change is good change; it is up to each of us to choose our course wisely.

The most important thing I can change is to be more open-minded. If you know me, you know I've got opinions and I'm stubborn. Writers tend to be this way; we always have something to say. But more important than hearing the opinions of others, I hope to be more open-minded in situations.

I often have difficulty adjusting my mindset once I enter a situation. I remember in high school, I was in my AP Psych class—which was deemed the "easy AP." The kids in the class ran the gamut of intelligence. My peers who asked dumb questions (because dumb questions do exist) drove me insane. And if you asked a dumb question, the next time I spoke to you, I was bound to just think you were dumb and probably keep the conversation super short. Rather than give the benefit of the doubt that my classmate just "had a moment" or that she could be smart in other areas of life, but lack common sense, I judged her. I would not amend that judgement. I reacted based on that judgment.

That's pretty horrible. To be so inflexible in my impressions of people AND to behave towards them based on that stiff opinion? This is what I need to change.

As Yom Kippur approaches with each click of the clock, I ready myself to delve into deep reflection and to emerge ready to take on a path towards change. 

I don't care if you're Jewish, Christian, Muslim, Sikh, atheist, agnostic, or what the hell you believe. Introspection is always difficult, but always important, and always worth it.

So while the Jews of the world prepare to fast, atone, reflect, apologize, forgive, and ultimately, change, I hope that you will also gradually aim to be better.