In his book, The Time Keeper, Mitch Albom poses the following challenge to his readers:
“Try to imagine a life without timekeeping.”
He recognized that, “you probably can’t. You know the month, the year, the day of the week. There is a clock on your wall or the dashboard of your car. You have a schedule, a calendar, a time for dinner or a movie.”
As a whole, the book explores the overwhelming impact of timekeeping on human existence, and challenges its readers to reconsider their relationship with time.
Personally, it is challenging to imagine living my life without keeping time.
Without timestamps on texts and emails. Without every hour of the day being accounted for on a calendar. Without the constant buzz of appointment reminders.
But at some point, when we are obsessively timekeeping, it is natural to turn on auto-pilot, and stop living with mindfulness and intentionality.
This week, we began the Hebrew month of Elul. In just four short weeks, we will congregate in our newly renovated Sanctuary, and pray to the Holy One for our names to be written in the Book of Life.
It is time for a wake-up call, similar to the one that Albom illustrates in his book. We need a reset that can allow us flexibility from the constraints of constant timekeeping, so that we can open ourselves to deeper experiences and a more meaningful existence. This is a critical time for awakening, reflecting, and remembering the beautiful gift that comes when our name is written in the Book of Life.
During the month of Elul, we are invited to do Cheshbon HaNefesh, a spiritual accounting of our souls. This practice allows each of us to reflect on the past year- our actions, our behaviors, our words- and set goals for self-improvement in the year to come.
Each year during this season, I remember my teacher, Rabbi Richard Levy z’’l, who said that we ought to prepare for the High Holy Days like we prepare for a marathon. We need to stretch our spiritual muscles every day so that when we hear the alarm clock that is the sound of the Shofar on Rosh HaShanah, our souls are awake and ready to answer the call.
One of the many reasons why I love The Time Keeper is because Mitch Albom reminded me that, “all around [us], timekeeping is ignored. Birds are not late. A dog does not check its watch. Deer do not fret over passing birthdays. Man alone measures time.”
Measuring time is part of what makes us human. It is part of how we communicate with others. It is a way of illustrating our values, and identifying our priorities because time is quantifiable.
While all humans measure time, as Jews, we seek ways to sanctify it. In a few hours when the sun sets, we will welcome in Shabbat and separate the mundane from the holy in the week. We count the Omer, bringing holiness to the forty-nine day journey from freedom to revelation. Mourners remember their loved ones with daily, weekly, monthly, and yearly rituals.
I can imagine a life without timekeeping. But, it takes away critical pieces of my human experience. Measuring time makes us human, and marking time reminds me of my Judaism.
During this first week of Elul, as I awaken my soul and begin my spiritual preparations for 5785, I find myself reconsidering my relationship with time. I invite you to join me in finding the balance between the simultaneous significance of schedules and moments outside of what is measured.
May the sound of the Shofar wake each one of us up so that we can enter the new year with increased time for joy, intentionality, connection, and love.
*”zl” of blessed memory
Shabbat Shalom.
