“How can I feel grateful right now?” a client asked me last week, tears streaming down her face. “Children are dying. How am I supposed to sit at Rosh Hashanah dinner this year and pretend it’s a celebration?”
Her question captures what so many are feeling this year: when life feels impossible, we need practices that make room for pain without losing sight of what sustains us.
As a psychologist, I often hear people describe feeling overwhelmed by impossible emotions in response to division, loss and violence. For many, the ongoing war in Israel and Gaza continues to bring unbearable grief on all sides, leaving people uncertain how to stay true to their values and humanity.
I see in these struggles not confusion or failure, but the reality of moral complexity. The High Holy Days themselves invite honest self-examination, especially in difficult times. Teshuvah, the Hebrew concept of returning, asks for the courage to look clearly at ourselves and our world, and to return to what matters most.
In moments like these, people ask what tools can help. Through years of practice, I’ve learned that developing an appreciative perspective can offer profound relief. This means deliberately noticing what still has value even within pain.
Our brains are wired for simplicity: this or that, right or wrong. When we cannot choose a side, it creates enormous stress. People feel pulled between loyalty and conscience, belonging and truth. Some respond by avoiding the issue, but this rarely brings relief and often compounds stress with guilt and disconnection.
Yet this turmoil is also a sign of something valuable: that we are grappling with genuine complexity rather than settling for easy answers. The discomfort we feel may reflect our conscience working properly, registering that important principles are in tension. Honoring this capacity keeps us from collapsing into denial or division and allows us to stay present with pain without shutting down.
This is where appreciation becomes more than a nicety. In my practice, I use it as a deliberate way to create space within moral complexity. Unlike forced positivity, it does not ask us to be grateful for circumstances. Instead, it invites us to see the whole picture, even the painful pieces, while recognizing the principles, connections and strengths that endure through struggle.
Clients discover they can appreciate things within situations they would never choose: the weight of moral responsibility as evidence of conscience, the capacity for anguish as proof that they care, moments of human connection that transcend disagreement. Once they shift to this perspective, something expands and softens.
As the High Holy Days approach, I suggest a practice that explores three areas of appreciation.
The first is to appreciate your struggle by pausing and naming what feelings are pulling at you: I feel sad because I see so much loss. I feel angry because I feel powerless to stop it. I feel hopeful because I still believe in connection. Simply naming these tensions reduces their power.
The second is to appreciate your values by choosing one enduring principle such as compassion, justice or truth and noticing how it guides you. Compassion may bring tenderness when you see someone’s pain. Truth may help you sit with uncertainty rather than chase convenient answers. Justice may reaffirm your belief that every life has worth and dignity.
Finally, appreciate what emerges in complexity and resist the urge to force a resolution. Allow new insights to surface: I can care deeply and still feel uncertain. I can value both belonging and honesty. I can recognize that grief and hope can exist together, each deepening the other.
After doing this exercise, one client said, “For the first time in months, my confusion feels more like spiritual growth rather than moral failure.”
The shofar will sound in the coming days for the Jewish people to awaken and return to what matters most. The capacity to see contradictions and stay present with them is a form of strength. Appreciation may be the tool we need to hold many truths, build bridges, and begin a path toward healing.
Robin Engelman, PhD, is a psychologist, coach, and creator of the Happier Hour® Method. Learn more at www.happierhour.com.
