By Ronnie Dubrowin

Happy 2026! The New Year is a time when we raise a toast to the year we have just experienced and plan to make improvements in the year ahead. We sing the Scottish folk song Auld Lang Syne vowing not to forget old friends. We make resolutions – to lose weight, to work out, to stop drinking. We celebrate with noisemakers and funny hats. We stay up until midnight, and beyond, to witness and be present for the change from the old year to the new. We often dress up. And we eat yummy, rich foods in large quantities with good friends and family. It often feels like the last hurrah of celebration until spring.

There are a few vague similarities between the secular New Year and our Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashanah. For example, we blow our version of noisemakers – the shofar, or ram’s horn. There is definite contemplation of what we have experienced. Attendance at a temple or synagogue increases exponentially. We dress in our finest clothing, as do our Torahs, adorned in their white mantles. We sing specific songs that elevate us and commemorate the significance of this holiday. We eat special foods.

This however may be where the similarities end.

The Jewish New Year’s noisemaker, the shofar, is a wake-up call – a call to action – not merely a way to make noise. We are faced with the arrival of Yom Kippur just ten short days later, when our actions of the prior year will be judged not by the bathroom scale, but by the Eternal, and our awareness of our responsibilities will be held to account. We do the hard, soul-searching work of examining our mistakes and making sincere amends to all whom we have harmed, intentionally or inadvertently. We ask the Source of Life to help guide us to be better humans in the coming year.

We know we have our part to play as the main character, the only truly impactful agent of change. What we do on Rosh Hashanah is not the end; it is the beginning. The expectation is that the vows we make are sincere and grounded in deep thought and introspection, expressed through meditation, prayer, and active practice.

This is what we practitioners of Mussar try to incorporate into our lives daily. We know that each day we are alive is a blessing, made even richer by the work we do to become our very best selves. We meditate, pray, and study to activate deep and honest soul-searching. We know we are less than perfect, and while perfection is unattainable, we can move ourselves a bit closer to it. Just as those who attend Rosh Hashanah services feel the strength and support of community around them, students of Mussar feel the help and support of their chavruta, their study partner. We hear the voices of the Mussar masters—from long ago and from our own time, guiding us in self-awareness and suggesting ways to be better members of humanity.

There is no doubt that celebrating the secular New Year can be fun, and that joy can carry us through some of the hard, cold winter months. Rosh Hashanah helps us become better Jews, cultivating a sweet New Year, and deepening our sense of responsibility to ourselves, to one another, and to the Source of Life. Mussar enhances both, offering a path to self-discovery and self-awareness that can enrich the Jewish New Year as well as the secular one.

If you have been thinking about exploring how Mussar might help you achieve a better 2026, perhaps the perfect New Year’s resolution is to learn more. Visit The Mussar Institute website at mussarinstitute.org, or email me at [email protected]. And be sure to attend when TMI’s founder Alan Morinis will be in Buffalo on April 15 to introduce his new book, The Shabbat Effect. More information will be forthcoming.

Ronnie Dubrowin is a retired midwife, a practicing mohelet, and a Mussar facilitator, who, when she has spare time, loves to knit, exercise and spend time with family and friends. She is also the chair of the Adult Education Committee at Congregation Shir Shalom.