If you have driven anywhere recently, you have likely heard your GPS say the word: “Recalculating.” Â This happens when we miss an exit, hit unexpected traffic, or take a wrong turn. The voice does not judge us or call us a failure; it simply maps a new route from exactly where we are. As we enter the High Holy Day season, I find myself thinking of the season as our collective spiritual recalculation. Rosh HaShanah is the moment we finally pull over to look at the map of our lives, evaluating the delicate moments and the lessons we learned over the past year. Yom Kippur is the ultimate act of divine grace, the reminder that no matter how many wrong turns we took, a recalculation is always allowed.
This is the sacred season that beats at the heart of our faith, calling each of us toward honest self-reflection. We must ask ourselves: How have I treated others? How have I treated myself? Whom must I forgive, and from whom must I seek forgiveness?
As summer concludes, I am reminded that many of life’s greatest lessons are learned outside the synagogue. They are learned beyond the classroom, beyond our homes, and beyond our offices. Lessons arrive on a ball field, time spent in nature or a garden, and through the connections we make during our lifetime.
My childhood neighbor, Dorothy, taught me about the lesson of kindness, and kindness being the fundamental ingredient to life. But with kindness, she taught me about the lesson of listening for listening is the root from which kindness grows. No grand speeches were required by Dorothy, for her daily actions revealed what mattered most: helping a friend facing hardship, assisting a stranger in need, or offering comfort to a relative.
Through her actions, I learned that authentic kindness begins with our willingness to notice another person. We must observe without judgment, listen without interruption, and recognize what lies beneath the surface. Years later, those lessons guided me as a camp counselor.
Summer after summer, I watched young campers grow through sports, nature, friendships, and shared experiences. I noticed how a camper’s character formed in how they lifted others by extending a helping hand and offering encouragement and joy over shared summer milestones.
Looking back at my time as a camp counselor, those experiences left a lasting impression upon me. I learned much from my superiors, yet the most meaningful lessons came from the campers themselves. Perhaps my journey toward the rabbinate began long before I entered a seminary classroom, but rather around the camp setting.
Each connection at camp and throughout my life has taught me something about kindness. Each encounter I had reminded me that listening is not passive. Listening requires our full presence, and through it, we come to understand another person’s needs, fears, hopes, and humanity. While in rabbinical school, I came to recognize the deeper importance of kindness and listening, not only as expressions of humanity, but as sacred Jewish values. I learned that the heart of Judaism begins with concern for another human being. Jewish tradition teaches that every person is created b’tzelem Elohim, in the image of G-d. Such a belief invites us to look beyond labels and to view from a compassionate heart.
Remember, Judaism has never taught us to close our hearts when life becomes difficult for ourselves or others. Our tradition calls upon us to remain open and present to every soul at the best and hardest of times. This is the season to reflect upon the moments when someone along our journey has faced hardship and needed our empathy. The question is whether we leaned closer to understand and help, or whether we rushed toward judgment and gossip.
In The Secret Garden, a story cascading with lessons, we are reminded of the importance of renewal. Today I challenge you to look back upon the connections and lessons that have shaped your life, and how each has impacted your personal garden.
As we enter the sacred moments of the High Holy Day season, let renewal lead your path. Like a car recalculating or a garden requiring new soil, change will require acts of forgiveness, leading with greater kindness, listening with stronger intent, and appreciating the lessons we gained over our lifetime.
May this season remind us that we grow from what we are given, and we heal from what we have lost.
Wishing all a happy and healthy new year!
L’Shana Tovah,
Rabbi Merle E. Singer
