Shanah means year but also means to change. Chodesh means month but also means to make new. Tishrei is the time for us to change ourselves renew ourselves.

But change is so hard. Sometimes we get to a place where we feel there’s nothing left. Sometimes that’s “real” like after a house burns down. But sometimes it’s less or not readily apparent everything can look and be fine on the physical surface and to the rest of the world but really we’ve got nothing left. We feel empty and holding on by that proverbial thread. We may even feel that even the thread is gone.

Shlomo HaMelech at one point was an immensely rich king but at another point Shlomo lost everything but his staff. That’s all he had left. But we can’t minimize the importance of that staff. He didn’t have nothing; he had a staff. There’s a world of a difference between nothing and a staff.

A stick can pull someone out of quicksand.

The best-known version of the 12-step Serenity Prayer is:

G-d grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change

Courage to change the things I can

And wisdom to know the difference.

I also came across this:

G-d grant me the serenity to accept the people I cannot change courage to change the one I can and wisdom to know that that one is me.

And was then inspired to write my own succinct version as a personal reminder: If there’s no way out find a way in.

If I can’t change the circumstances outside myself then what can I change inside myself? Far harder. Far more satisfying. Far more lasting.

There are many things I just don’t seem to be able to change. That doesn’t mean I stop davening. It just means I accept that change may not happen right now. But “Even if a sharp sword is placed against the neck of a person he should not abandon hope for mercy” (Brachos 10a). Even in such a case we don’t give up.

A Jew never has nothing left. Never. Even in a situation where G-d forbid we’ve literally lost everything physical we have to lose we are still left with our neshamos with our connection to G-d. Not even close to nothing. And far superior to all the riches of Shlomo HaMelech.

In a shiur I heard on Sichos HaRan (48) we learned the importance of starting again immediately when we fall spiritually. Immediately. No matter what happened no matter how bad it was we can start building ourselves up again immediately even if we’re left holding just a staff of our former level.

It’s like “system restore” a repair we do to a crashed computer in which we choose any former date to return our operating system to a date when all was working well and functioning smoothly before things crashed.

We might even have to do a “system restore” many times a day. So what?

“If there is no struggle there is no progress.” (Frederick Douglass)

In Menuchah v’Kedushah written by a talmid of Rav Chaim Volozhiner it’s brought down that even a person who sins his whole life can still be considered a tzaddik as long as he never gives up and always continues to fight. The world might consider such a person a failure but Hashem considers him a success. It’s about our genuine efforts not our results.

Full teshuvah says the Rambam is when we find ourselves in the exact situation as the one in which we sinned and this time respond according to Torah. At this point our teshuvah is complete and the change is real. Real but not guaranteed for life. Not even guaranteed for a minute.

“The Saba Kaddisha of Slonim explained that when the yetzer hara succeeds in ensnaring a person in aveirah his chief satisfaction is in making the sinner feel hopeless and despairing that he has so disrupted the bond between himself and his Creator that he has distanced himself completely from his holy Source. This leaves him feeling weak and powerless losing hope of ever amounting to anything. These negative feelings are antithetical to avodas Hashem and can do more harm than the aveirah that spawned them. A Jew must always have utter confidence that despite failings of the worst kind he is by nature a ben Melech and a father never abandons his son.” (Rabbi Yitzchok Adlerstein Torah.org)

When you are through changing you are through. (Bruce Barton)

Teka b’shofar. To blow the shofar. It does mean that. But Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch primarily defines litkoa (taf-kuf-ayin) as “force into permanent place.” To force into permanent place is some change! What’s the connection? The baal tokea is literally forcing the sound of the shofar into the heart of every listener. Even if G-d forbid we feel we have nothing left may we listen and hear and take heart. And always pick ourselves up and go on.