Hakarat Ha'Tov: Recognizing the Good

Reflections on another trip around the sun

Jan 14, 2025

This past weekend, I drove to Worcester (about an hour away) to have lunch with a rabbi friend who had offered to pass along some books for my impending studies. "Bring boxes," she texted. We ate and visited, then spent a couple of hours in her office as she handed me volume after volume.

Some were intimidating (Talmud, anyone?) but enthralling, others familiar and inviting. As we loaded three boxes heaped high with these gifts into the backseat of my car, a deer appeared at the base of the synagogue driveway. It stood there in the dusky light, a benediction of sorts.

On my run on Sunday morning, I listened to "Praise You" by Fatboy Slim.

We've come a long, long way together
Through the hard times and the good
I have to celebrate you, baby
I have to praise you like I should
We've come a long, long way together
Through the hard times and the good
I have to celebrate you, baby
I have to praise you like I should

I have to say, it was God I found myself praising. We have indeed come a long way together.

And, as my birthday Tarot reading suggested I do, I also decided to take these lyrics as an opportunity to offer myself appreciation for how much heart, sweat, and soul I brought to the first year of my 50s.

Here goes…

This year held a lot for me and my family. Lots of thresholds and milestones, endings and beginnings.

M.J. and I became homeowners together for the first time. Our first attempt at gardening yielded more cucumbers than you could shake a stick at, many of which we failed to pick in time. We discovered the quirks of each first season in our nearly 100-year-old home and slowly began meeting some neighbors. And in December, we put up a pink Little Free Library that’s already seeing lots of action. And today is the 13th anniversary of our one-night stand (true story!).

I replaced talking about someday going to rabbinical school with matriculating in an intimate, mostly virtual, pluralistic seminary designed for people like me who are older and are balancing work, caregiving, and other obligations.

I rescued a languishing manuscript of writing prompts that I completed during the pandemic and decided to release it from laptop captivity into the wilds of the world. (The link to purchase is coming so soon! Stay tuned.)

I saw a psychiatrist for the first time in my life (shockingly) and received a long overdue and helpful diagnosis. I did some intensive therapy over the summer that, unlike years and years of therapy before it, empowered me to work on shifting some deeply ingrained body-mind patterns that have held me back and negatively impacted my mental health for a long time.

With Lilly’s help, I began to be able to answer the relentless "What if?" with a calmer, "Maybe, so what?" The words "good enough" became a mantra, along with a drumbeat of dayenu (it would have been enough). Every single day, a thousand times.

I loved my kids in ways I can only hope they felt, and feel, in their bones.

Six months ago this week, I was in Jerusalem, where I didn't have to downplay my love of the Jewish people or my love of Israel with a constant explanation of how many truths can and do co-exist and that my Zionism doesn't need defending. I am gravely concerned about Israel just as I am gravely concerned about the United States, just as I am gravely concerned about this burning planet. I am praying that the hostage/ceasefire deal that was announced yesterday actually happens.

As I turn 51 today, I am filled with gratitude, awe, humility, and hopefully a kind of grace I can continue to grow into in the coming year and beyond (kine hora – basically the Jewish version of knocking on wood).

I carry a near-constant awareness of how impermanent this is – the bodies that breathe us, the homes we inhabit, the places we cherish. As we keep witnessing and more and more of us are experiencing firsthand, climate change and the degradation (demise?) of democracy – things that go hand in hand – are not something on the horizon.

The horizon is here.

How are we supposed to deal with this, much less make room to celebrate birthdays?

These words from Ram Dass speak to what’s on my heart these days:

“Even amidst the vast ocean of suffering in the world, every small act of kindness ripples out, connecting hearts and easing pain. Your actions may seem small, but they hold immense importance—for others and for your own heart."

babaramdass

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Your actions may seem small. And – nothing is too small.

We get so caught up in worrying about whether we're doing enough that we end up doing nothing. It's nearly impossible to be an empathetic human being and not feel the crushing weight of how much suffering is in our midst.

Which takes me to another jewel of Ram Dass wisdom:

"The real work you have to do Is in the privacy of your own heart."

Inner and outer work are not an either/or.

Inner work must be balanced with touching the world around us, the people, the animals, the trees, the water, the mountains, the utterly immense beauty, the suffering not a single one of us will ever ease entirely but that each one of us has the power to assuage in some tangible way every single day.

Likewise, if we are only concerned with worldly matters and neglect the needs of our own minds, bodies, and spirits, our own divine spark will wane and flicker.

There is no perfect balance, only practice. This is the challenge, the gift, the dance, and the opportunity every single new day and new year presents. I'll take it. (Even better when it comes with beloveds and cake.)

Hakarat Ha’tov

One way of saying “gratitude” in Hebrew is הַכָּרַת טוֹבָה or hakarat ha’tov, which means “recognizing the good.” This can feel challenging some days (weeks/months/years), and it invites us to remember the power of “the little things.”

Here’s a longer definition:

Hakarat hatov is a Hebrew term that means ‘recognizing the good’. A fundamental teaching in Jewish law, it challenges us to develop an awareness of the blessings and gifts we receive daily. These can be both large and small [bold mine] and also come from different places. It’s easy to take simple things for granted, like waking up in the morning, having food to eat, or receiving a smile from a stranger. But hakarat hatov encourages us to pause and appreciate these everyday miracles.

As I begin this next trip around the sun, this is my intention, illuminated by a wolf moon: To live, work, love, pray, create, and contribute with hakarot hatov.

You know, there was a time, say 15-ish years ago, when my dream was to write, share, and connect with people through my writing. And now, here I am, and there you are. If that’s not a miracle borne of everyday things, I don’t know what is. It didn’t happen overnight; it happened little by little, word by word.

Since this is about me, and you (you singular, you plural, forever a grammar nerd), which makes an us, if I could ask for one thing for my birthday, it would be this:

Please do one kindness for your own heart, and one kindness for a fellow being. As always, if you’re so inclined to share, I’d love to hear.