I opened up my phone after Rosh Hashanah to a deluge of things that upset me:

Pink writing about how lonely it is to be a Jew and stand up for her own people, Mamdani cosplaying Mr. Rogers with a bunch of Jewish kids "celebrating RH", Ben Cohen from Ben & Jerry's receiving an award from CAIR for his pro-Palestinian advocacy at their gala on Rosh Hashanah, this politician said this, that one said that, drama, BS, narishkeit, antisemitism.

The internet basically punched me in the face last night.

The thing is, I walked to shul on Shabbat morning, the first day of Rosh Hashanah, with this deep sense of awe.

It was peaceful and sunny with a sweet breeze, and beyond my daughter's chatting, it was quiet. No sirens. No war.

We davened in our shul with our community, just the beautiful voice of our chazan, a congregation in prayer. A group of people who have been living on the edge of so much for so long, showing up and praying for this year to be better. Quieter. Happier. Safer.

The next day, the shofar blew, bold and clear; big fat tears rolled down my face. Gratitude, I think. Awe. Exhaustion. Hopefulness for a better year to come.

I heard rumblings over chag about this political drama and that one- but actually, baruch Hashem, it was the most peaceful Yom Tov we have had in years.

And then I opened my phone after chag.

Listen. Here's what I think.

I think, to some degree, we get to choose what reality we live in.

We have agency over what world we inhabit.

There will be moments when we can't ignore what's happening. Current events shape our present. Culture. Ecosystems of all types.

To stick our heads in the sand and pretend we live on a remote mountain somewhere and aren't affected by all this noise (which is my dream) isn't going to be everyone's reality. It shouldn't be.

But we can choose where, on any given day, we place our attention.

Where we direct our thoughts.

I was so consumed with gratitude over chag. It was such a beautiful, nourishing feeling. Just an acknowledgment of everything we've been through, and what we contend with in contrast to that moment of serenity.

A true holiday of sweetness, honey included.

So as I go into this new year, and the next week of introspection before Yom Kippur, I'm going to hold onto it a little longer.

Remind myself that no one and nothing can claim my thoughts entirely unless I place my attention there.

I don't want to forget I have that power.

Even when I'm struggling.

Even as the world is tugging at my attention with its negativity, fear, anger, and angst. I feel it, but I can't let it consume me all the time.

I hope that you all had a sweet chag and we get better news this year than ever before.