This past summer I had an experience that literally took my breath away. After spending the morning hiking through Rocky Mountain National Park, my family and I drove the twisty road to the Alpine Visitor Center at the top of the park. At 11,796 feet this peak offers stunning views in all directions. At the very top there is a nice lodge with a cafe and gift shop, and everyone in the family wanted to just sit and have a drink while adjusting to the altitude and recovering from the nauseating twists of the road. But as we were leaving the car I saw a hill with a path that looked like it must have a panoramic vista. Unable to convince anyone else to join me I ventured up by myself. There must have been about 300 stairs and about halfway up I was literally out of breath and laboring to keep going. I had to stop a few times in order to catch my breath, but eventually I made it and felt like I was on top of the world. The view was incredible and after a few minutes my breathing slowed down a bit. By the time I made it back down to the lodge I felt much better but it was at least another half hour of sitting and drinking until I felt better.
I’ve been thinking about this idea recently, of having your breath taken away. I’ve thought about it in the weeks after Hurricane Harvey, when we in Houston have been trying to get back into a routine and move forward but often feel like we are short of breath due to the enormity of the trauma. I’ve thought about it as I watch footage from the Florida Keys, Puerto Rico, Mexico, and Las Vegas and am in awe not only of the tragedy but also of the human spirit. And I’ve thought about it over the Yamim Noraim, listening to the Shofar blast which is a prayer with no words, a breathtaking cry.
In Tehillim King David says “Mi Yaaleh Behar Hashem U’Mi Yakum Bimkom Kodsho - Who will go up the mountain of Hashem and who remain standing in His holy place?” I once heard this explained to mean that it is one thing to make the initial climb up the mountain, an achievement in and of itself. But the bigger question is whether the growth, the new perspective, will endure or just be a moment in time, breathtaking though it may be. We live in the Facebook generation where as long as I capture a moment and post it I feel like it is permanent. But the truth is that each day brings new trending topics and it is easy to move on and forget. We might get a yearly reminder in our Facebook memories, but otherwise it’s just a matter of how many likes we can get for the 12 hours or so after we post. Similarly, may people feel inspired on Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, but then we fall right back into the same patterns and behaviors again. The real sign of a meaningful Yamim Noraim is how we look and act in the days and weeks that follow.
So that’s the lesson on my mind as we enter the holiday of Sukkot. When something inspires you, when it takes your breath away, sometimes it means you worked hard for it, and other times it comes suddenly and unexpectedly. But in order for that feeling to last we have to keep the moment of inspiration in our minds. Rabbi Akiva Tatz talks about this in his book Living Inspired. The bolt of lightning lasts just a moment. And then we are left in the dark trying to make our way. The only way to actualize the inspiration is to close our eyes and remember the clarity we felt during the flash of light. And it’s true in life. The only way to take that breathtaking moment and to use it to create lasting growth, is to constantly refer back to it for inspiration and purpose.
May our Yamim Noraim resolutions have a lasting impact. May our desire to help others, inspired by so many recent events, become a regular part of our lives and not just during times of tragedy. And may the mountains we climb inspire us to keep climbing higher and higher. It may at times feel hard to catch our breath, but the climb is worth every step.
