Returning

Last week, while on vacation, I did something I haven't done in a long, long time. I took a nap - a siesta if you will. And I have to say, is I have newfound admiration and respect for the nappers out there. I'm completely serious. For all those who are asleep by takeoff, I applaud you. Because my brain doesn't want to cooperate. As if to say, "Are you kidding me? It took us THREE iced coffees, a bagel, AND a workout. JUST to get this whole awake thing going. And now you want to shut it all down? Seriously!?" 

Because while science supports midday sleep, most hyperactive brains and people do not - but sometimes, we have to turn off for a bit to get moving again. It's like a system reboot. In fact, it's the very first thing any Tech Support operator will ask. "Have you tried turning it off and back on again?" And while shutting down is a challenge - in its own right. The more complex element is turning the machine back on again. Because when I woke up from my nap, the world was a fog. I couldn't remember if I ate dinner. What year it was. Where I was. 

And that feeling of waking up. The grogginess. Of reentering my body and mind. Reentering the world, really. This is precisely how I've felt for the last few months. A long, long time ago, I can still remember when the world took a nap. Not really a nap, but a pause. And then, just recently, it was decided that we would hit the play button. Simon says, "Go! Go now! Go back. Return to everything you were doing. All at once." Simon says, "Pick up exactly where you left off. Get this whole world thing moving again!” Except it's not so easy. It's not like flipping a switch. The world doesn't move like that. People don't work that like that. We're not machines. 

And if you don't think the process of returning is arduous. Think back to when you bought something at a store. You got home, and it didn't fit. It didn't go. Whatever reason was. And tell me that it didn't sit in your closet for at least a few days. Weeks. Maybe months. I've worked retail my entire life. I've returned things people had stored in their attics for years. Literally years. And then, when you finally build up the courage, you get to the store. And guess what. The line for returns is longer than the line for purchasing. Because returning can be daunting. Intimidating. 

This is why this year, in my own Jewish calendar, is the year of teshuvah. But let's talk about this word for a moment. Teshuvah often gets used during the High Holy Days and is translated as "a return to the right path." Simply put, Teshuvah means repentance. Contrition. Remorse. Sometimes even sorrow or guilt. It also has the connotation and themes of "turning over a new leaf," or "starting anew." Or, according to the Lubavitcher Rebbe, "Teshuvah is the return to that essential, "realself" - to our inner selves.” That's because the literary root of this word does, in fact, mean to go back.

But the type of return I'm talking about isn't wrapped up, necessarily, in morality. I'm not digging at the teshuvah in the context of the soul or our days of Awe. However, that is the one day all the Jews decide to return to the synagogue. Instead, what I'm talking about is returning. Period. Nothing more. 

Because I give credence and credential to the process of returning. Back to work. Back to School. The gym. The dentist. Whatever it is. But when you do come back. Nothing is exactly the same as when we left it. The world is not a time capsule. That's precisely why we make them in the first place. It's challenging to preserve "what was." 

And thus, as a Rabbinical figure, I do encourage introspection and betterment of the self. I do. But as a fellow human being who also just went through a life-changing pandemic. Just showing up is fine by me. Teshuvah this year, for me and hopefully for you, will be a reawakening. This year, teshuvah doesn't need to be a highfalutin word attached to introspection and existential enlightenment. This year, it can simply be the process of coming back. Let's give space for that. Let's give attention to that. Let's come back and figure out what has changed and what has not. Let teshuvah be your word of relearning. Of what was once innate. Let it be the first stretch when you wake up, and the process of getting things moving once again. 

And just as we thank the soul for returning to the body during sleep in our morning prayers. So too, and I am grateful for the returning of souls to our houses of worship. And just like the moral definition of teshuvah, may it be done with the support and help of the community. And may God grant us a safe return to what once was. And a discernment for what the future holds.