Alien Inspo: Into this World

When I was a kid, my brother and I used to watch this random tween show called “Out of this World.” 

It featured a girl who (was maybe secretly half alien from another planet? and) had a superpower, whereby she could touch her two index fingertips together to freeze time for everyone and everything but herself. 

She would generally do this when she’d gotten herself into some sort of sitcom-style dilemma, and needed a minute to figure out a way out of the pickle (the kind that always resolves in 27 minutes or less.) 

The viewers would see her begin to panic, remember her power, freeze time, and then verbalize the crisis, options, and problem-solving process until she was ready to unfreeze everything and fix the mess. By the end of the episode, of course, all was well again. 

The “weird kid with secret superpowers” trope has long been a fan favorite for kids in books and shows. But I especially loved this fantasy because I’d often found it difficult to think on the spot of “the right thing” to say or do in social (and scholastic) situations. My instincts were often… not the best, and so I would sometimes reflect on those reactive moments with regret and wish I’d handled them differently. The idea of getting to freeze time, pause, assess, analyze, brainstorm, and then engage more intentionally felt like the perfect solution. 

Alas, no matter how much I tried, I lacked the ability to freeze time with my fingertips, and was constantly at the mercy of whatever cringe my limited, prepubescent, earthly brain and mouth impulsively generated. 

Life isn’t a sitcom, and we do need to learn how to interact with other mortals in real time. 

Except I think about that show often, especially around this time of year. 

We’re not part alien, (at least, as far as I know) but we are part Heavenly, and our souls do (kind of) have the superpower to pause time. It’s not as dramatic or on-demand as Sunday morning TV but it’s (probably) holier. 

The 10 days of Teshuva, beginning with Rosh HaShana, highlighted by Shabbas Shuva, and culminating with Yom Kippur, are an invitation to slow down and examine our circumstances and internal processes. Not to obsess or ruminate, but to reflect, introspect, and lengthen the dash between stimulus and response. We may not get to freeze time for everyone else, but we can try to pause internally, and especially on Yom Kippur, when many of our usual human faculties and routines are suspended, stop, think, strategize, and regroup for repair. 

It would be so comforting to know that all our mistakes could be amended within a 30 minute episode or even the 40 day stretch of Elul through Yom Kippur. Maybe they can, but I suspect it’s more of a lifetime, continuous series model. Mistakes and challenges are part of the system; without them, there’s no plot, nowhere to grow. 

One of my favorite literary quotes, from Dr. Maya Angelou is: 

“Do the best you can, until you know better. Then, when you know better, do better.” 

Simple, true, actionable. 

This is predicated on good intentions and a willingness to “know better” and then “do better.” 

And that’s the work of this 10 day pause.

Not shameful self-flagellation to the point of neurosis or despair. 

Just time to focus, to think, revisit, study, feel remorse, apologize, repair, and strive for the new, improved values-driven vision of the upcoming year. 

We don’t touch our fingertips together for a magical time out, but we do touch our hands to our hearts for a spiritual reset. We take accountability for our normal, human, universal failings (so ubiquitous that they’re canonized in our liturgy), commit to learn and know better, and refresh our sincere and humble intentions to then do better, in this world. 

Wishing you a healthy, happy, holy holiday season and new year:)