Strategies for intentional living from experts who get it

When Joy Feels Out of Reach

Shoshana Schwartz

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uccos is meant to be a time of joy. Not only do we want to be happy, we’re actually commanded to be.

We know all about the mitzvah. We know it’s supposed to be within our grasp, yet for some, happiness feels elusive. That gap between “I should be happy” and “I’m not” often brings guilt or self-blame. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I feel it? Those thoughts only deepen the heaviness, adding anxiety and pulling us further from the very joy we’re trying to reach.

For some, the barrier is simply a matter of focus. We get caught up in problems, worries, or irritations, and forget to notice what’s good. But for many, there’s something deeper at play — something that can’t be resolved by simply “looking on the bright side” or “having hakaras hatov.”

That deeper issue often comes from the past. When joy didn’t feel safe growing up, the mind and body adapt by guarding against it. Maybe you lived in a home shadowed by mental illness, chronic illness, or instability. Perhaps a parent or grandparent was highly critical, and moments of happiness were quickly met with disapproval. In some families, joy was seen as frivolous, and even lightheartedness might have been frowned upon — a contradiction to being serious, responsible, or G-d-fearing.

In other homes, happy moments were short-lived because a crisis was always around the corner, or worse, because they were followed by tension, punishment, or loss. Over time, your nervous system learned to brace itself whenever things felt too good, expecting the other shoe to drop.

When those associations take hold, part of you genuinely longs for joy, while another part works quietly to dampen it before it grows too strong. This inner resistance is your body and mind’s misguided attempt to protect you from what they once believed was a threat.

One gentle way to begin easing that resistance is through gratitude. Gratitude can open the door to joy by helping us focus on the blessings we do have. But “doing gratitudes” can also remain just an intellectual exercise: I’m grateful for running water. I’m grateful my friend called. I’m grateful for my new shoes. That’s a good start, but if it stays in the head, it doesn’t necessarily change how you feel.

Gratitude has the greatest impact when you allow it to be more than a thought, when you let yourself truly feel it. Choose something you’re genuinely grateful for and pause with it. Notice where you feel it in your body. Is there warmth in your chest, expansion in your shoulders, lightness in your face, tingling in your toes? Let the sensation fill you, even briefly.

At first, you might only manage a few seconds before your mind jumps away. Over time, you’ll find you can hold on to the feeling a little longer, and your body will start to recognize joy as something familiar and safe.

When joy has felt unsafe, we can’t force ourselves to be happy on command. But we can take steps that lead us there, starting with gratitude we don’t just think, but feel. In doing so, we slowly retrain our hearts to see that joy isn’t just a mitzvah for Succos. It’s a state we can grow into, moment by moment, all year long.

Shoshana Schwartz specializes in overcoming compulsive behaviors, including emotional eating, codependency, and addiction. She’s the founder of The Satisfied Self.

You’re Also Welcome

Shira Savit

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any succahs have that old nostalgic kindergarten project hanging on the wall — the crooked, faded, wrinkled letters of Bruchim Habaim, Welcome to Our Succah.

The Yom Tov of Succos involves a lot of invitations. We invite guests for the seudos, our neighbors drop by for dessert, relatives squeeze into every corner, the children from the block run in and out. We make space, pour drinks, pass plates, hand out blankets when it’s cold. We invite the spiritual guests, too, the ushpizin, who bring their unique energy and kedushah. We make everyone feel welcome.

Yet when it comes to ourselves, being welcoming can be harder. A woman can sit at the table, surrounded by singing and laughter, yet in her head, she’s thinking: “I feel huge. I shouldn’t have eaten that second piece of challah. I don’t deserve dessert. Everyone else looks fine — why can’t I?” She tells herself she needs to eat differently and look different in order to truly belong.

But our succah doesn’t have conditions or restrictions on who can come in. Its walls are thin and breakable, and still, they hold everyone who enters. No one asks before you enter if you’ve eaten too much sugar, if you haven’t exercised enough, why you do or don’t look a certain way. The mitzvah is only this: Be here, exactly as you are, to sit, to dwell.

Let’s not just welcome our guests and the ushpizin, but welcome ourselves, too. We can let the parts we want to hide have a seat at the table. We can whisper to ourselves: “You belong. Even with your body. Even with the cravings, the shame, the noise in your head. You belong here.”

The succah doesn’t judge us. It holds us. When we sit in the succah, we can say to ourselves: Bruchah haba’ah. With kindness and compassions, because Hashem loves us and welcomes us exactly as we are.

Shira Savit, MA, MHC, INHC is a mental health counselor and integrative nutritionist who specializes in emotional eating, binge eating, and somatic nutrition. Shira works both virtually and in person in Jerusalem.

Budgeting Is Just Like Trip Planning

Rivky Rothenberg and Tsippi Gross

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udgeting is really like planning for anything else.

Imagine you’re going away with your spouse right after Yom Tov. You can either stay up late the night before your trip, scrambling to pack, prep the kids’ school lunches, writing instructions, and washing laundry — barely making it to the plane, totally wiped out.

Or… weeks in advance, you slowly prep. You pack early, jot down notes, stock up on basics, and plan your exit strategy. When Yom Tov ends, you check your list, throw in a last load, and go to bed — calm, ready, and organized.

Same exact trip. Totally different experience.

That’s what budgeting does. When a simchah comes up, you can scramble, borrow, or mortgage your home. Or you can dip into the little fund you’ve been quietly building each month — and breathe.

Tsippi Gross is a business consultant and Rivky Rothenberg is a CPA. Together they started Ashir, a nonprofit that provides financial training for communities and families.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 963)