
“My son was volunteering at a homeless shelter. In walked one of his high school classmates. I’m proud that he ran into the kitchen and helped there so his classmate would not see him.”
21st century Jewish spiritual practice for an authentic and meaningful life

“My son was volunteering at a homeless shelter. In walked one of his high school classmates. I’m proud that he ran into the kitchen and helped there so his classmate would not see him.”

Even when I would not be caught dead in other Jewish spaces, I always went to services on Yom Kippur and Rosh Hashanah. In part, this was because my father stressed how important it was not to work on the High Holidays. “Don’t give the anti-semites an excuse to put down the Jews who do care by going to work yourself,” he would say to me. And he was and is right.
But that did not mean that I had to go to services. There was something else, a renewal that came from the exercise of looking within and trying to improve myself. I loved the long lists of sins. I read them carefully. But there was one problem:
I felt shame every time I found a sin that applied to me, which was frequently.
Rabbi Brene Brown defines shame as “the intensely painful feeling or experience of believing that we are flawed and therefore unworthy of love and belonging – something we’ve experienced, done, or failed to do makes us unworthy of connection.” She further teaches that while guilt is a healthy, adaptive trait to help us feel bad when we fail to live up to our values, whereas
“Shame corrodes the very part of us that believes we are capable of change.”
Shame is not the point of Yom Kippur. Indeed, if shame was making it harder for me to change, it was undermining the opportunity for personal transformation that Yom Kippur brings.
When we do our spiritual accounting on Yom Kippur, we will find places where we missed the mark. How are we to react? If we don’t feel any emotion, we are unlikely to change. Yet if we feel too badly, spiraling into shame, we can paralyze ourselves into inaction. So lets try to find a different emotion.
Fear? I don’t like Fear as a motivator – indeed research shows it is effective for short term but not long term change.
So what about sadness?

Sadness, like guilt, is uncomfortable. It looks you in the eye, and leaves the door open to compassion. Compassion and self-compassion are exactly what we need in order to change.
If you start to feel that crushing shame, ask yourself the following 10 questions:
By fully inhabiting the situation, you’ll open the door to transform those shame feelings into sadness. Rabbi Alan Lew of blessed memory called the High Holidays a journey from “hard-heartedness to broken-heartedness…the journey the soul takes to transform itself.” (This Is Real p.8)
Given the choice between shame, which undermines the ability to change, and sadness, a gateway to personal transformation, I’ll take sadness every time.
Which will you choose?
Want to know which soul traits might be making it hard to turn shame into sadness? Take the Soul Trait Quiz
Images by Kevin Jesus Horacio and Irena Carpaccio on Unsplash

Three weeks into Rabbi school, I have just one thing to say: I can’t believe how much work it is.
My challenge is to remain a whole person while doing all this work. I don’t want to neglect my family relationships, nor get away from my spiritual practice. Studying Torah and Jewish history for 30+ hours a week does not in itself bring spirituality into my life.
So, I’ll prune away a few things that no longer serve me, thanking them for their service, and composting them so that they may bring life to something else.

After an amazing year of working on the shadow-side soul traits, my Mussar practice was in a rut. My focus was on learning Hebrew, looking ahead to Rabbinical school, and taking care of my daughters who had their wisdom teeth out in successive weeks. And don’t get me started on the ups and downs of the Warriors quest to win another championship.
None of which actually preclude my Mussar practice, although each of them are feeding my Evil Inclination, to distract me from what is important. To be clear, Mussar is never far from my thoughts, but I haven’t been systematically working on a particular soul trait, with a mantra, mindful action and journaling. Hence, my Mussar practice is in a rut.
That started to change when I decided to donate an old computer to clear out space on my cluttered so-called desk. I erased the memory, re-installed the operating system, and posted on Nextdoor for ideas on where to donate it.
I was shocked at how many people wanted it. I got the expected suggestions for schools to give to college bound kids, and non-profits. I did not expect a personal request from a young adult working full time and going to school. Or this note
“…we have a single mom who works for us as a cleaner & has just started her 1st set of classes to become a preschool teacher. A MacBook Pro would be an AMAZING gift to her. She is hard working & wants to better her life so her kids have a better life too.”
The person I choose is local, working, in school, and is always posting on Nextdoor offering to housesit or to feed pets. She wrote to me, “Words can’t describe how grateful I feel reading your message this morning.”
After I read this email, I felt profoundly different, in a way that can be explained by the Mussar masters. Rabbi Moshe Chaim Luzzatto wrote in Path of the Just “One who perceives a quickening of his outer movements… conditions himself to experience a flaming inner movement.” Or put another way, taking action changes our inner world.
Teachings about the soul trait of Generosity go even further. One of the spiritual traps we can fall into is a “stopped up heart.” This is a barrier that prevents us from connecting with others. Perhaps it is a result of past hurts, or just something that has happened as external events or internal habits distract us from what is important. Whatever the cause, giving to others is a way of opening the heart.
This is exactly where I was with my Mussar rut – too focused on tasks and my own stuff, and not enough on the external world. Giving away the computer to a specific person opened my heart, and got me out of my rut. Which brings us to a Generosity Mussar Practice:
Once you’ve successfully done an act of generosity, do another one the next day, and again the next. Can you do one extra generous thing seven days in a row?
I guarantee that if you try to push yourself, you’ll find the voice of resistance in your head. In his book Everyday Holiness, Alan Morinis points out that this voice can take many forms, like rationalization, or fear. By stepping into this resistance, we can learn more about what holds us back. Each time we give anyway, we open the heart just a bit more.
In invite you to join me in doing one generous thing every day for the next seven days. I’ll start my day with the mantra “Open your hand to open your heart,” and will journal about my experiences at night.
If you’d like to join me, or have another thought, please comment below. It doesn’t matter when you start. Generosity can and will open your heart to the wonderful souls you share the earth with.

Yes, I am a total Game of Thrones fanatic. My wife and I got hooked on the books early on, and have waited patiently for each new book or season to come out. As you may recall, Mussar teaches that Patience is enduring an unpleasant situation, and when it comes for waiting for new books in the series, Patience is our only recourse. While I promised three Mussar lessons from Game of Thrones, consider this lesson on Patience to be a bonus.
Mussar Lesson 2: Good and evil get pretty muddy. As George RR Martin says in this wonderful interview with Stephen King, “In my view, the battle of good and evil is waged within the individual human heart. It is our decisions – we are all partly good and partly evil. We make decisions every day. We may do a good thing on Wednesday, and an evil thing on Thursday, or a selfish thing.”