Preparing for Yom Kippur Mind and Spirit

I’m not a judaic scholar. I’m someone who has been on a spiritual journey. I’ve found that as I speak about my experiences, though the details of my journey are my own, aspects of my story often resonate with others. There are so many of us on this kind of path.

There’s a great deal of material to potentially discuss in regards to Yom Kippur, there are many layers to these High Holy Days. I’ve chosen to focus on ideas that really speak to me and that I feel on some level link together. I’ll begin with my journey and how it led to my spiritual point of connection with this holiday.

I grew up in a suburb of Chicago called Wilmette. On our cul de sac of 12 houses, all families were Jewish, as was the case with much of west Wilmette back in the 70s and 80s. It was a bit of a shtetl. My parents were not observant. We belonged to a synagogue only briefly when I was a young child. My mom had been raised reform, my father conservative, they could never really come to a consensus. Ultimately they decided synagogue membership wasn’t important enough to justify the financial commitment or the schlepping to Sunday and Hebrew school. They took for granted that my brother and I would automatically believe in Gd and that we would feel a connection to our Judaism. Even if it was just cultural.

But I didn’t believe in Gd. I hadn’t been given the tools to understand what that meant. And I didn’t feel a connection to my religion. I hadn’t been given the education to make that connection possible. As I grew into a teenager, attended a large public high school where there were a lot of us Jews, but we were still in the minority, I frankly didn’t see the advantage to being Jewish.

I did, however, feel drawn to idea of spirituality. There was something undefinable out there, something significant missing from my life, but I couldn’t figure out what it was or how to access it. I was turned on to the Grateful Dead in high school, then dropped out of college after my sophomore year, moved to San Francisco, and spent 2 years traveling the country selling t-shirts in the parking lot of Dead shows. This Dead sub-culture initially felt to me like it could possibly be spiritual. A seemingly socially conscious community, this was where I was first exposed to concepts like spiritual growth, and finding a sense of purpose in the context of repairing the world. Ultimately I came to realize that the Dead scene was not where I was meant to be, but many of the people I met during those formative years had a big impact on what is still my personal worldview.

Ultimately I moved back to Chicago, met my husband who grew up in a small Jewish community in Iowa. He was raised in a conservative Jewish home with an incredibly strong belief in Gd and sense of Jewish identity. I told my husband early on in our marriage that I would learn to make the latkes and matzah balls, but couldn’t promise that Judaism would ever be anything more than that for me.

Little did I know how strongly my feelings would change. The birth of our first child was truly an awakening. When I first looked into our son's beautiful little eyes, I physically felt Gd speaking to me. I, of course, understood the biology behind the creation of this perfect little baby, but even still, this blessing in the form of my child was earth shaking.

My mind began to open and I became receptive to the possibility of Gd and Judaism playing a role in my life. My children began Jewish preschool and I learned along with them, I took classes with my husband, with my friends. The more I learned, the more I found myself wanting more information. I studied Hebrew, I studied prayer, Jewish thought and observance. I became a Bat Mitzvah at 38.

During a weekly Torah class it began to gel for me. In a discussion about belief in Gd, my teacher explained that belief can feel like an abstract concept. Instead, think about the possibility of building a relationship with Gd. Something intimate. Personal. Pray to Gd for what you want no matter how big, small, or outrageous. Be open with your feelings even when you’re angry, heartbroken, or disillusioned. And of course, thank Gd for your blessings. As I found ways to integrate these personal prayers into my life, I felt my relationship with Gd grow.

I try daily to communicate with Gd, but as many can all relate, it’s too easy to let a day get away, so regardless of how hectic my week, Shabbat is my time. Each Shabbat upon lighting candles, I take a moment for personal prayer. I pray for the health and safety of family and friends, for peace in Israel where my daughters' and son-in-law now reside. I always end by thanking Gd for his guidance, his patience, his love and his faith in me.

Asking for forgiveness is an essential component of an intimate relationship. This component has been built into our Jewish calendar every year on the 10th day of Tishrei, Yom Kippur. On this day, we’re given the opportunity to stand before Gd and offer sincere apology for our transgressions. Prior to the creation of man, God created this concept of atonement. He knew that for human beings to evolve intellectually and emotionally they needed to be given the opportunity to fail, and in turn have a mechanism to seek forgiveness.

Although Gd’s forgiveness is available to us always, from the sound of the shofar at Rosh Hashanah through the 10 days culminating on Yom Kippur, Gd’s ears are particularly open. He’s giving us this time to take stock in the year we’ve left behind and really examine how we’ve grown, where we’ve fallen short, and where we may need to dig particularly deep. It is a time for honest self awareness and introspection. It is a time for Teshuva. Teshuva, which translates as “return” can be interpreted as returning to Gd, to the Torah, or to our best selves, is a process by which we first express regret by acknowledging the mistakes made, we cease the wrong doings, we confess and ask forgiveness from whoever we have harmed, then we resolve not to repeat these actions in the future.

We’re regularly faced with tests of character, ethical dilemmas that impact our interpersonal relationships with family, friends and others we associate with in our daily lives. Sometimes the right or wrong answer seems cut and dry. We know whether or not our judgment has been good or if an apology is in order. Often, however, the answers are not so obvious.

In relationships with our partners, our friends, or in parenting for example we often struggle with the direction we should take when making decisions both large and small. Our own personal baggage, unpleasant history or resentment can cloud our judgement or confuse our intentions. People close to us such as a family member may “set us off” or “bring out the worst in us”. As a result, there will inevitably be areas in our lives where our actions suffer. We may even find that, like Groundhog Day, in spite of our resolve, certain struggles seem to repeat year after year.

But each new year may give us the benefit of a new perspective. A new vantage point from which we might acknowledge our role with increased self reflection, be able to recognize our responsibility more clearly, make our apology from a place of greater compassion or maturity, or find a new resolve.

When we reflect and see the bigger picture of our year, viewing our transgressions not just individually but as a sequence of events over the course of a period of time may bring to light patterns or tendencies. Are there people, settings, or situations in particular that repeatedly offer a challenge? Or is there a specific situation that’s weighing on your mind? Where do you feel the need to focus your work?

It’s important for us in the days leading up to Yom Kippur to take an honest look at our transgressions and examine: What was my role and responsibility? Who was impacted by my actions? What was the outcome? What was there for me to learn from this experience? Can I find compassion for myself? I mention this last question especially because we tend to be the most harsh when judging ourselves. Through this process can you open your heart and your mind to the possibility of self-forgiveness?

Essential to the Teshuva process is the act of asking for forgiveness from all those we’ve negatively impacted through our actions. Taking what’s in our hearts and putting that out into the conscious world, revealing our remorse, especially to those we have wronged, is very humbling. Deciding on the words to use and actually making the apology can feel terrifying, but in the end this interaction can be freeing. Whether the other person chooses to forgive or not, you have made real your intention and in doing so can allow yourself to move forward.

In addition to personal prayer, we have our prayer books. These formal prayers are tools that give structure to our observance, but most importantly they are a vehicle to enhance our connection to Gd. As we make use of these tools, we must still remember to bring our own sincerity and heart to the prayers. This past Shabbat, our Rabbi told a profound joke relating that idea: A husband and wife fight. The distraught husband is unsure of how to make amends. His Rabbi advises him to buy the wife a beautiful bouquet of flowers to give to the wife along with his apology. The husband hands the flowers to his wife and says, “The Rabbi told me to give these to you.” This husband completely missed the point!

Some feel that spending Yom Kippur in individual prayer, possibly enjoying the beauty of nature, brings them closer to Gd. There is a compelling case to be made, however, for praying within a spiritual community. We are all fallible beings working to improve our character. When we pray as a community, we support each other and help build each other up. To quote Alan Lew in his book THIS IS REAL AND YOU ARE COMPLETELY UNPREPARED, “In praying with them [meaning others who are imperfect like ourselves] we begin to find the answer to our own imperfection. None of us is whole by ourselves. A spiritual community is one in which we find wholeness, completion with others.”

These High Holy Days have been carved out for us to look closely at our behavior, examining our actions, thoughts, and words, to weigh the outcome of what we believe to be our transgressions, and ultimately to learn from our successes and our failures.

Though we are told that the hope is to be sealed in the Book of Life for the coming year, I have a very difficult time wrapping my mind around that concept. We’ve all lost loved ones, good, honest people with seemingly much to offer, who were taken way too soon. Why they were not sealed we may never understand. So yes I hope to be, but in truth I use this opportunity to work my way through that which I hope to leave behind, and in doing so learn from my conduct. Delving into the depths of my soul, I open my heart and face my inner demons. I prepare myself to really show up at synagogue on Yom Kippur and present myself to Gd with sincere confession. I bare my truest self to Gd, tears and all, so I can enter the new year ready to move forward on a path of continued growth.