A do-it-yourself thing

Editorial

Among the jokes and silly photos, the Nigerian bank scams and special deals on new software, the body-part enlargement ads and the failed-delivery messages that make their way around the Internet, there is an interesting list of 25 rules for life. The last one reads, "You're half-way through it before you realize that life is a do-it-yourself thing."

What an incredible message to keep in mind every day, from the moment of forcing eyelids open to the moment of drifting off to sleep. And what an important message to consider, especially at this time of year.

For how often do we really take time to examine our lives?

Our lives disappear in the huge blocks of time spent working outside the home or inside; in the hours spent shopping for food or clothing or dishwashing liquid; in the minutes spent looking for a parking spot on a busy street or standing in line to use a bank machine. Life is like a postcard, Rabbi Riskin says in this issue. We write with big words and big spaces at the beginning but find towards the end we have to cram everything together, sometimes leaving out something important we wanted to say or having no room for our signature altogether.

We are often so busy living minute to minute that taking an hour or so for ourselves in the course of a week seems to be unattainable. And when we do find some "quiet time," it is often to read a book we've been putting off or to go to see a movie with a friend or simply to go for a stroll on the beach. But these become the times of clearing our minds and relaxing, not of actively participating in an evaluation of our lives.

It's interesting that, in many careers, we undergo and understand the need for, performance reviews. They force us to stop and assess how we are doing in our workplace, whether we have achieved goals set out earlier in the year, if we are happy with our responsibilities and, most importantly, where there is room for improvement. If we do that for a job, doesn't it make sense to do it for our life?
And besides looking at our life in terms of goals and accomplishments, how often do we examine it in terms of moral action and integrity? If we paused to reflect on how many times we fall off our moral track, we would probably be amazed. And though we may be essentially good people, can we really say we do all we can to be good to others? Have we properly thanked the people who have helped us in some way? Have we been too pushy of our ideas on co-workers or friends? Have we really been sensitive to the needs of people who could make far better use of a few of our dollars than we can?

How great would it be if we had a life assessor come to our door once a month, sit down with us and help us take stock of where we are; help us re-establish a hold of our life and determine our place in the universe.

But this is where the High Holidays come in. This is where we are given the gift of time. Granted, it's only a few days in the year, but it serves to stop us in our daily grind and reflect.

And if you're wondering where to begin to examine moral failings, ask someone to point out the Al Chet (On the sin we have committed.... ) prayer and you will barely have to move your brain into first gear to determine where improvements can be made. As you read through the list and consider how you have committed each one (you know you did), consider also how you can make up for it. As Reform Rabbi Eric Yoffie says in this paper, it's a search that most of us "instinctively resist." All the more reason to do it.

But it's not enought simply to recite the Vidui ("We abuse, we betray, we are cruel.") or to say "Al Chet...." It's not enough to say, "Yes, I gossip, I know about it, leave me alone." The real challenge is to ask yourself what steps you can take to change your actions and to commit yourself to those steps.

We should see Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur as gifts that we shouldn't waste. It's an opportunity to stop and take time yourself, without the burden of work, to become your own life assessor; to start looking at the pieces of this "do-it-yourself" thing we call life.

Shana tovah.

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