Holiday Check-In

Making time for myself... and G-D.

I always like to tell you exactly where I’m at and what’s going on when writing to you. Not sure why, but it just feels important :).

My plan was to take Chana Laya pottery painting at Arts On Fire, and while she painted, I would write. Except we got there forty-five minutes before closing, and they have a rule—which I obviously had no idea about—that you must arrive an hour before closing to start a project. I’m like, “Seriously, she’s 8. How long do you think she’s going to paint for?” But it was one of those situations where the young employee couldn’t think out of the box and was like, “That’s the rule, sorry.” So there went my writing time.

Here I am after dinner, bedtime, and an argument with one of my teenagers. I’m feeling a bit feisty and not regulated, which isn’t the vibe I was going for, but alas… I wanted to do a Yom Tov season check-in, but I wasn’t sure I had anything of value to say. I take your time seriously. But in the shower last night, I let my mind wander, and all of these thoughts and observations about the holiday experience kinda washed over me.

My week of prep was rough—rougher than I was expecting, or hoping, quite frankly. Yes, the physical work was hard, even though I have done this so many times before and I know what to do and how to do it. But it was more than that. I had a lot of emotional circumstances and life realities to work through, and for some reason G-d thought the week of Rosh Hashana prep would be a good time to pile it on :). It really took a toll on me, which is hard to admit. I mean, the basic laws of being human apparently apply to me too. Yuck. I just want to be above it all. Haha. Cute. Yet another humbling experience.

I pour so much love and heart into the dinners I create. The experience people have in our shul is so important to me. Every single detail is thought out with so much intention, and I’m really proud of that. No matter what’s going on in my life, I will always find a way to show up as my best self. Remembering my why and what I value and cherish will always center me, which brings me to my Yom Tov experience:

First of all, our community dinner was stellar. Vibes were so high, the tables were gorgeous, the food was delish (if I may say so myself), and close to 100 people celebrating our identity and connection with Hashem was just stunning to behold. I always feel so intensely grateful that I get to help be part of facilitating people’s relationship with G-d.

My personal relationship with Hashem often takes a back seat during the holiday season, not intentionally but circumstantially. Between the prepping, cooking, serving, cleaning, and taking care of the kids, it’s just what happens. This year I wanted to be more aware, to pay closer attention to my personal experience. I don’t have the distraction of babies or toddlers anymore, and not only that, but my sister is here, and for the first time we had a kids’ program! (Listen, we all know that without a kids’ program, Chana Laya would take up a lot of space, toddler or not.) So it’s really the first time in many years that I was able to think about all this.

It’s exciting and also a little scary. It’s easier (for me) to “not have time” to pay attention to my own service, to fall back on the “I’m too busy taking care of others to worry about my own relationship” narrative, which is true but still a narrative nonetheless.

Do I even know how? What does that feel like? What I usually experience during the short moments that I have in Shul is struggling to be present because I don’t know what to focus on—whether to catch up on davening (praying), say Tehillim (Psalms), or listen to the Torah reading. I feel like I have to pack it all in, get it all done.

This year I told myself, “When I’m in Shul, whatever the congregation is doing, that’s what I’m going to do, with my whole heart, fully present and engaged.” And can I tell you what a difference this made for me? It was huge. If I was in Shul when everyone was davening, I davened. If I was there when the Torah was being read, I listened and followed along. I didn’t say Tehillim or catch up on the davening that I missed. When my husband gave a sermon, I listened fully—and what a treat! I rarely get to hear it.

There was something so grounding and comforting about fully embracing the moment and not worrying about all the things I wasn’t doing or couldn’t get done. Like I said, when you are in the stage of life of being in the thick of child-rearing, this isn’t really relevant. The job of the moment is to take care of your family. But when that’s not the stage you’re in anymore (even though you wish you were) and suddenly you have the opportunity to be in Shul, to think about your personal Yom Tov experience, the pressure is on.

Having had a chance to think about it before it happened, before the holiday started, I had an outline of a plan, and it made all the difference. I genuinely enjoyed being in Shul. I felt connected. I felt like I put in the effort from an aligned and safe place. It was far from perfect, but I showed up in all my insecurities, and I’m proud of that.

I used to look at my mom like she was an alien when she told me that someday you’re really going to appreciate the High Holidays, Rosh Hashanah, and especially Yom Kippur. I get it now, Ma. I get it. I have officially matured :).

This time of year is so loaded, and it can bring up so much. I see you. I feel you. All we can do is show up—flaws, fears, and all.

Hashem will meet us where we are at.

He’s promised us that.

May we all be signed and sealed in the Book of Life.

Love,

Chavie