Perhaps we arrive at this time of year and the prospect of another round of reflection and self-assessment and feel fatigued by it all. Maybe we look at the world and see all the seemingly insurmountable ways it seems broken and feel powerless. Honestly, there’s no need for me to write in first person plural (we)—I am feeling these things on a first person singular (me) level.

As I do, a kinda silly midrash comes to mind. It suggests that God sits on the throne of judgment at the beginning of Rosh Hashanah. Upon hearing the shofar call, God moves the divine derrière to the throne of mercy. You know I’m not all about anthropomorphizing the divine. However, the idea—the possibility that something we do (the shofar call) in our realm might have some cosmic impact—offers an invigorating option to my fatigue and powerlessness. (See above.)

Can’t or won’t blow a shofar? Don’t worry, I’ve never figured it out either! The question is: What is your shofar? What do you need to do to get in the headspace or heart space to know what it is? What’s the noise you can make—even in your little corner of the world—that maybe, just maybe, might ripple in the cosmos?