I have often wondered why there is a minhag to take things on during the Asseres Yemei Teshuva – things we tend to drop, without conscience, the day after Yom Kippur. 

Is it, perhaps, the world’s first great marketing ploy? Free 10-day trial! No obligations! You can cancel anytime! 

I don’t know. It just seems to me that teshuva should be authentic and permanent. It always bothered me. Always, that is, until I reminisced about laundry. 

So, let’s talk about laundry. 

I grew up in an amazing house. It seems to me that the laundry was washed, dried, and ironed before it was even dirty. You barely had a chance to peel off those socks when, boom, they were back in your room, fresh, folded, and ready for another round. 

The only problem is that I thought that’s just how laundry works. I mean, when I say I thought, it’s not like I actually consciously thought about it. There was nothing much to think about. That was just how laundry worked. 

It was intriguing to me that it didn’t just naturally happen that way once I had my own home. Intriguing, and also a source of shalom bayis frustration. Frustration for everyone. For the people who couldn’t find the items of clothing they needed and frustrating for me because I really wanted to do a better job meeting the needs that I was clearly failing to meet. 

So I tried to do Teshuva. I was going to be absolutely better at this. I was going to master this, conquer this. I would be the icon of perfect housekeeping. A perfect Teshuva.

I actually succeeded. Every single time I tried, I succeeded. Yes, about every month I would try and succeed again… for about a week. One week of success followed by three of missing clothing. 

And then someone in my family made a suggestion. 

What if I just focused on socks? 

My ego wanted to reject this suggestion. Socks? Katan alai! I was aiming to become the new Martha Stewart. What good is it to be good at socks? My goal was to excel at everything! 

But my ego had to contend with my long list of failings. So, I considered socks. 

How would the lives of the precious people around me be improved if they never had to worry about finding clean socks? 

And how doable was it to meet this goal? 

And was it sustainable? 

Could doing one thing really well be more helpful on my growth path than overestimating myself and hitting those feelings of deflation and despair that failure seems to choose as its escorts?

So many times, we reach Rosh Hashanah and we are truly inspired. How beautiful! The description of a world in which Hashem is truly Melech! A world of Tzedek and Mishpat! A world that runs so smoothly. When we feel this inspiration, we feel truly magnificent – as we should! We begin the year contemplating the wondrous possibility of a world wherein Hashem’s sovereignty is unimpeded. In the reflection of the glory of Hashem, how can we be anything less? We, His precious children! 

There’s a space for that feeling of being so inspired that we want to be perfect. That space is the Asseres Yemei Teshuva. We have ten days to run our perfect homes and be our perfect selves. 

But. 

Let’s remember. 

There’s another type of Teshuva. The Teshuva that can become Teshuva Gemura. The long-lasting type that has a chance of surviving through November and February and beyond. 

It’s not necessarily the inspired Teshuva capable of reaching huge heights. No, it’s quieter than that. It’s the Teshuva of our intimate moments with Hakodosh Baruch Hu. The Teshuva that answers deep questions: What can I truly commit to? What will take me one humble but real step closer to Hashem? What will help me be one step closer to becoming the beloved me that Hashem sees? What will make the yearlong difference? 

Rosh Hashanah is huge and glorious and we touch our own majesty in the mirror of our King’s. 

Yet it begins a whole year. The best Rosh Hashanah is not one that defines a self-contained experience. It’s the one that begins the year and takes us all the way through. You can’t run a marathon in a sprint. You start with a burst but continue at a maintainable pace. 

Take with you a souvenir of inspiration. A little commitment. Something small enough that can be kept anywhere but real enough that it will help affect a continued, tangible change. Keep the Rosh Hashanah consciousness with you all year. Let that souvenir remind you that Hashem is your king, your father, your coach, your best friend, and your biggest fan, rooting for you, believing in you, cheering you on all the way through until next Rosh Hashana.