There’s a line from the Stoic philosophers that I always find extra meaningful at this time of year.
“You grow as much as the truth you are willing to accept about yourself without running away. Real strength starts with honest reflection.”
We know that facing the truth about ourselves isn’t easy. There are things we regret. Patterns of behavior we wish we could change. Words we wish we hadn’t spoken. When we dare to see these things clearly, it can feel overwhelming. And the question becomes: once I see these truths about myself, how can I still accept myself?
There’s a story told in many cultures about a woman who carried two jars each day down to the river to draw water. One jar was strong and whole. The other was cracked. Every day, the cracked jar leaked water along the path, so that by the time the woman reached home, it was only half full.
The cracked jar was ashamed. It said, “I’m so sorry. You work so hard, but I never deliver. My flaw wastes your effort.” But the woman smiled and said, “Haven’t you noticed? I planted flowers along your side of the path. And every day, you’ve watered them. Look at the beauty you’ve brought into the world.”
We all carry cracks. We all leak water. And yet, in the very places where we feel flawed, we may be watering flowers we don’t even see.
That’s why this season is not only about honesty, but about compassion. S’lichot invites us to confess: ashamnu, bagadnu — we have missed the mark. We name the cracks. But we do so surrounded by prayer, by music, by community. The message is not: “Because I am cracked, I am worthless.” The message is: “Because I am cracked, I am human. And still, I am capable of love, forgiveness, and change.”
Brené Brown teaches: “Shame corrodes the very part of us that believes we are capable of change.” When shame takes hold, it convinces us that we are stuck, that we are defined by our flaws. But our tradition counters with the words of Rabbi Nachman of Bratzlav: “If you believe you can destroy, believe you can repair.”
Together they remind us: shame closes doors, but self-acceptance opens them. When we see our cracks with compassion, we can begin to water flowers along the way.
So as we prepare for the Days of Awe, may we have the courage not to run from the truth of who we are. And may we also have the compassion to hold that truth gently, to see the flowers blooming along the path, and to know that—even with our cracks—we are still vessels of blessing.