I am preparing for a coronation. Cooking, cleaning and separating pomegranate seeds from their home, carefully placing them atop the cake’s honey-tinted frosting.

This is the time of year where we Jews coronate G-d as king of the universe, during our new year more commonly known as Rosh Hashanah, and though I go through this every year I find myself rushing to finish, knowing that once we enter the “chagim” the world will stop and I will live in a bubble of food, family and worship.

If you’re a Jew, you’ll know the stress I am under right now, one day before the eve of the new year. If you know a Jew or two you will know this as the odd time where they seem to be off work every other day and when they are not stuffing their face they are fasting, complaining equally about the aches associated with both.

Rosh Hashanah means the head of the Jewish year, where we first rejoice, then reflect and then start over, and at this time we eat simanim, symbolic foods mentioned in the Gemara, foods that represent good things for the new year.

The first food that the Gemara mentions is gourds, or “K’ra.” The word “K’ra” sounds like the word  “proclaim,” and therefore we say a blessing as we eat it, saying “May it be your will (G-d) that our merits be proclaimed before you.”

The second food mentioned is “Rubia,” or fenugreek. The word “Rubia” sounds like the word “yirbu,” the word for “increase.” We therefore say a blessing asking for our merits to increase.

The word for the third food, “Karsi,” leeks or cabbage, sounds like the Hebrew word “kares,” “to destroy.” We therefore say a blessing that asks “may our enemies be destroyed.”

The word for the fourth food, “Silka” or beets, sounds like the Hebrew word “siluk,” meaning “removal.” We therefore say a blessing that requests our adversaries to be removed.

The word for the fifth and final food, “Tamri” or dates, sounds like the Hebrew word “sheyitamu,” “that they be consumed.” Therefore we say a blessing that asks for our enemies to be consumed.

Beyond that, we dip apples in honey, symbolically asking for a sweet new year, and our menus throughout Rosh Hashanah usually incorporate the foods mentioned, to multiply the blessings and the joy.

These are the high holidays and, as you can probably tell, they are ripe with symbolism. Starting with Rosh Hashanah, leading into Yom Kippur, these two very different parts are separated by the auspicious time we call the days of awe. To me, this is the most difficult and the most rewarding time of the Jewish year. It is then that we look into ourselves and reflect on our life, our deeds and our choices and as we consider our sins we also take it upon ourselves to repent before G-d as we stand before his judgment. 

We Jews believe that G-d has a book in which he writes our names, writing down who will live and who will die, who will have a good life and who will have a bad life, for the year to come. The book of life is written on Rosh Hashanah, but we have the ability to alter G-d’s judgement during the Days of Awe, if we give charity, repent and pray. The book of life is then finally sealed on Yom Kippur, as is our fate for the upcoming year. 

This time of awe is not merely a process of thought, but of action. Last year I had several meetings, many phone conversations and I wrote seven letters of apology to those I knew I had wronged in the year that had passed. This year, I will do it again, and it is not without fear or trepidation I approach this task again, knowing the wrongs I have committed. It is somewhat painful, but a blessing, because my G-d tells me that I can start anew. That I have the ability to repent and to change, truly, and I take that gift as it is given, embracing the responsibility and feeling its weight. 

My favorite tradition during these days is tashlich, the casting away of sins, where we go to a moving body of water and throw away our sins (using either pebbles or bread crumbs as symbols of our shortcomings) into the water, thus cleaning ourselves for the upcoming year and leaving the old behind. As we stand there, we recite the last verses from the prophet Micah: “He will take us back in love; He will cover up our iniquities. You will cast all their sins into the depths of the sea” and we use this as a time to forgive ourselves and pray G-d does so, too, accepting that ours is not the final judgment.

It has been a hell of a year, and I need my new beginning now more than I can remember ever having before. There are things I need to leave behind, and changes I have to make, and more than anything I need to get that check that these holidays provide, dragging me back to my center.

That is the glory of our Jewish year. I get a new shot at doing right, at getting better, at evaluating what I did wrong and how I can change that. I am not lost to G-d, even if he at times is lost to me, and in times like these when I feel wayward and tired I am so thankful that he sticks around.

I am preparing for a coronation, my house smells like honey and the table is already set. Tomorrow night this house will be filled with laughter, food and family, and the days after that I will do my best to deserve such joys in the year that awaits me, knowing whose blessings these really are.

For those of you reading this, I wish you a sweet and blessed 5777, and I thank you for the time I got to spend with you, albeit virtually, all through 5776. If I failed you somehow, through a snippy comment, bad grammar, worse manners or a less than civil discourse, I sincerely apologize and promise to do better.

And with that, I have a cake to glaze and a brisket to baste, so I will take my leave and see you again in 5777.

Shana Tova, may we all be inscribed and sealed for a good year!