In conversation with a friend, I mentioned I am writing about the three Rs.  I asked what she thinks about when she hears the term 3Rs, Not hesitating a moment she told me “Reading Riting and Rithmetic. That is what we were supposed to learn in school”.  Those are not the three Rs I am referring to here. The first month on the Hebrew calendar is a very busy one, with one holiday following the other.  In fact, there are three holidays, with a specific action connected to each one of them.  The first holiday is indeed the first and second day of the month.  It is Rosh Hashana – the head, or beginning of the year.  A new beginning, celebrating the beginning of the world, of creation. The first R relating to this holiday is REMEMBER.  Remember the first day of creation.  The first light and darkness, sun and moon, plants and animals and the creation of humanity. Remember your connection to the earth and to the heavens and to your creator.  Remember, do not forget to respect the environment which nurtured you from ancient times till now, and your fellow human beings who were together with you on this journey.  Remember your promises to guard this earth and its inhabitants, to cherish and respect.

Memory is connected to much of what is to be human.  Without memory there is no past to learn from and to have a cohesive story of our life.  Our brain is wired for memory.  In fact, the oldest part of our brain which triggers us still is the Reptilian Brain, the Cerebellum, remembers and activates our body in situations it deems dangerous. It is responsible for raising the alarm through our nervous system and complex hormonal activity and causes us to act – Fight, Flight or Freeze.  These are survival mechanisms.  Without the memory of past dangers, we would not have a future.  Lately there is talk of another survival mechanism based on past memory of trauma and hurt, and that is Submit. Our body has learned to use primarily one of those responses depending on our particular makeup and the circumstances we encountered in our life from early childhood on.  We depend on each other to survive and strive.  We depend on connections, so we must remember what helps us maintain a happy outcome and what will bring on pain and suffering.  REMEMBER

Only ten days later on the calendar comes Yom Kippur – the day of atonement, which brings us to the second R.  REPENTANCE.  Repentance for what we did not do.  Did we remember to act on our promises? Did we actually fulfill our obligations to the land, the environment, to each other?  Repentance for what we did do. Look around you.  War is raging all over the world.  Greed is driving people to destroy the environment and each other. People are dying on the street and many of us pass by them, not wanting to see.  The forests we cut and the drilling we do, the greed we have and the disdain we show to anyone who is somewhat different from us. Those are all sins we need to repent for, whether we individually or collectively committed them by commission or omission.  There is a long list written in the liturgy of Yom Kippur which is recited several times during the 24 hours of fasting.  Repentance, like Remembrance involves action.  It promises that if we act, we will be forgiven.  Forgiven? Yes, we will learn to survive, to repair.  Repentance must lead to the act of REPARE. We first repair our body after the fast by drinking some water or juice and eating some sweet cake, so we gain the strength to start repairing the world. We must remember that we are chosen to lead by example, to repent and repair. To care and to share, to build a hut, to embrace action.

On the 15^th day of the month, we are told to build a Sukkah, a temporary hut that we need to dwell in for 7 days.  And guess what, we are given a command to REJOYCE.  Can one be commanded to Rejoyce? You bet you can, and if you did the previous 2 Rs you can actually do the 3^rd.  You are alive, you are still remembering, and the hut is also an act of creating a memory, a memory of when we all survived even when we were nomads, and did not have a permanent roof over our heads.  Half of humanity is still without a permanent roof over their heads.  They are refugees, they are displaced, they are even amongst us without a permanent roof.  We are to dwell in this temporary dwelling for only 7 days, and then we go back to our secure dwellings.  So, we must Rejoyce. For what we have, for the bounty of harvest, for the friends and family we are with. We need to remember repent and Rejoyce.

I am reading what I wrote so far and wondering what is happening to me.  It sounds as if I am preaching.  I was always under the impression that I believe in teaching by example, and here I am trying to weave together concepts I was raised on and the pain I feel when I read of the daily injustice in the world.  I walk to the studio where I enjoy myself creating from clay, and pass people in the parking lot living in temporary makeshift tents, using drugs, looking at me with dread and suspicion.  It is an awful site.  My amygdala is screaming danger, danger, and I try to calm it down by breathing.  My trusty 7/11 breathing, inhale to the count of 7 through your nose, exhale to the count of 11 through your mouth.  It raises your Oxytocin and lowers your Cortisol, the hormone of stress.  I am no longer afraid.  I greet them and ask if they are in need of food or clothing.  They look stunned.  I am sad.  Do they ever Rejoyce?

The news media in Canada are still bringing us stories and visual confirmation of the thousands of unmarked graves found in the vicinity of the residential schools which forced indigenous children away from their natural environment and abused them for more than a century. To our amazement and horror, it turns out many of the “schools” were operating still in the 1960s.  The older generation who survived the residential schools are starting to share their stories of horror.  It reminds me of the holocaust survivors who started sharing 70 years after they became old and frail.  The trauma permeated the next 2 generations.  The proud aboriginal communities became victims of drugs and alcohol to numb the pain.  But the community is raising its head.  It starts remembering.  They listen to the stories of their past.  They reconnect with their reverence to the earth, the vegetation and the animals who are a source of admiration and sustenance.  Young people want to learn the old languages.  Aboriginal healing practices are gaining respect, and the communities are starting to bring back the tribal culture and demanding their rights.  They demand repentance and reparation from the government that betrayed them.  And they Rejoice.  Last Saturday night, at the National Cultural Centre in Ottawa, the capital of Canada, over 3000 first nations people came together to commemorate the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation. This special event honours residential school survivors, their families, and their communities.  The celebration includes music and dance.  When Buffy Sainte-Marie, one of the most beloved aboriginal singers came on stage at the end of the evening, all the musicians and the crowd joined her.  Even I joined her with joy. I have been a few times to her performances, and she is no longer a spring chicken, but her voice is still clear and the energy she exudes is contagious.  We Rejoiced together. I am glad I asked myself how can I be commanded to Rejoice.  Now I know. It is in order for me to look around, remember the misery, but see also the repentance and the downtrodden rising together to create a unity of joy expressed in music, dance and imagination.  That is why I have to Rejoice.