Life is busy. Really busy.

There is work, school, family, household responsibilities, appointments, carpools, errands, and the endless list of things we are supposed to be doing. And then there are all the expectations we carry: from society, from the people around us, and from ourselves.

We do what we have to do. And sometimes, all of that doing creates so much noise that we don’t have much time to stop and ask a much bigger question:

What am I doing it all for?

I recently heard Rabbi Yitzchak Berkowitz, Rosh Yeshiva of Aish HaTorah, share a beautiful thought about this week’s parshah and its connection to Rosh Hashanah.

The Torah tells us:

“רְאֵה נָתַתִּי לְפָנֶיךָ הַיּוֹם אֶת הַחַיִּים וְאֶת הַטּוֹב וְאֶת הַמָּוֶת וְאֶת הָרָע”

“See, I have set before you today life and good, death and evil.” (Deuteronomy 30:15)

And just a few verses later, G-d pleads with us:

“וּבָחַרְתָּ בַּחַיִּים” – “Choose life.” (Deuteronomy 30:19)

Rabbi Berkowitz asks a simple question: Why does G-d need to plead with us to choose life?

Who wouldn’t choose life?

His answer made me think.

One of the incredible things about being human is that we have free will. We have the ability to think, create, dream, reason, and make choices. But that same incredible mind can also be really good at convincing us of things. We can become so sophisticated in our thinking that we can convince ourselves that something empty is meaningful, that something destructive is productive, or that because we’re constantly moving, we must be moving somewhere worthwhile.

We can build and build and build, but have we stopped to ask what we’re building?

Rabbi Berkowitz points to a fascinating verse in Koheles (Ecclesiastes, a book of the Hebrew Bible):

“עָשָׂה הָאֱלֹקִים אֶת הָאָדָם יָשָׁר וְהֵמָּה בִקְשׁוּ חִשְּׁבֹנוֹת רַבִּים”

“G-d made human beings upright, but they have sought out many schemes.” (Ecclesiastes 7:29)

In Rabbi Berkowitz’s words, G-d created us with the ability to “think straight.” Somewhere underneath all the noise and complicated reasoning, we often know what really matters.

And maybe that’s part of the gift of Rosh Hashanah.

I think of it almost like our annual review at work or finals at school. There is a set time when we have to stop, look back, and take a real inventory.

Where am I? What did I accomplish? How do I feel about it? What do I regret? What do I want for the future? And maybe most importantly, what do I REALLY want?

There can be a heaviness associated with Rosh Hashanah because of that kind of self-reflection. But there is also something incredibly valuable and special about it.

Because without a designated time to stop, life just keeps going.

Another day. Another week. Another school year. Another deadline. Another load of laundry. Another hundred things on the to-do list.

Rosh Hashanah gives us an opportunity to zoom out.

When we ask G-d on Rosh Hashanah, “זָכְרֵנוּ לְחַיִּים” – “Remember us for life,” Rabbi Berkowitz challenges us to think about what we mean when we say life.

What kind of life are we asking for?

Being alive isn’t only about breathing. Real life means growing. Giving. Sharing. Building. Becoming. It means asking what kind of person I want to be, what role I want to play in my family, in the Jewish people, and in humanity.

What can I contribute?

Who can I impact?

What will I be proud of when I look back?

Through the busyness of everyday life, we have to somehow keep the big picture in sight. Because we can be very, very busy without necessarily getting closer to the person we actually want to become.

Maybe that is what “וּבָחַרְתָּ בַּחַיִּים – Choose life” is asking of us.

Choose to live intentionally.

Choose to grow.

Choose to give.

Choose the things that actually matter.

And as we enter Rosh Hashanah, maybe we can each find a quiet moment amid all the noise and ask ourselves:

What does LIFE mean to me?

What do I want my life to look like? What do I want to become? And what choices can I make this year to move a little closer to that person?

May Hashem give us the wisdom and strength to make those choices, and may we all be blessed with a year filled with real life: a life of growth, meaning, giving, connection, and purpose.

Shanah Tovah!