For many Jews, Tashlich is a ritual they don’t experience until adulthood, or perhaps an elective activity on the busy High Holy Days calendar. It serves as more than just a symbolic act; for anyone who participates, it can be a useful act of emotional and psychological processing. As much as it is a custom of Judaism, Tashlich is also a mindfulness exercise. The tenets of the ancient act of Tashlich can even be found in modern-day trauma healing therapies.
Tashlich, meaning “to cast off,” is a Rosh Hashanah ritual symbolizing the act of casting away sins by throwing breadcrumbs into a naturally-flowing body of water.
In “The Body Keeps the Score,” Dutch psychologist Dr. Bessel van der Kolk writes that “for real change to take place, the body needs to learn that the danger has passed and to live in the reality of the present.” He says that “physical actions register with us more” than just mental processes alone. Engaging in rituals like Tashlich provides a structured way to release the emotional weight of the past.
The physical activity involved with Tashlich can be considered an example of a trauma therapy technique called pendulation. Pendulation is a form of Somatic Experiencing developed by trauma expert Dr. Peter A. Levine. It’s a healing technique of touching “into the pain or discomfort (activation)” and then returning “to a place of calm and safety (deactivation),” Levine writes in his book, “In An Unspoken Voice.”
Van der Kolk describes pendulation as the act of “gently moving in and out of accessing internal sensations and traumatic memories.” This helps patients “to gradually expand their window of tolerance.” The therapy helps patients “build up internal resources that foster safe access to sensations and emotions that overwhelmed them when the trauma occurred.”
During Tashlich, activation can be seen as reflection on the sins and mistakes of the previous year while clutching the breadcrumbs in a novel location — a flowing body of water. Deactivation (or release) during Tashlich is the act of casting away the sins into the water with repeated, physical movement, resulting in a release for the nervous system.
Rabbi Naomi Levy, founder of the Nashuva Open Synagogue, has been leading one of the largest Tashlich gatherings in Los Angeles at Venice Beach since 2004 — “Tashlich by the Sea.”
“For many people, who maybe aren’t ready to step through the doors of a synagogue, Tashlich is actually their primary entryway into the High Holy Days,” Levy told The Journal. “It’s truly about releasing all the burdens on our heart, whether it’s misdeeds or simply what we’ve been carrying that impedes our ability to embrace the new year.”
“For many people, who maybe aren’t ready to step through the doors of a synagogue, Tashlich is actually their primary entryway into the High Holy Days. It’s truly about releasing all the burdens on our heart, whether it’s misdeeds or simply what we’ve been carrying that impedes our ability to embrace the new year.” – Rabbi Naomi Levy
The literal translation of Rosh Hashanah — “head of the year” — brings a fitting symbolism to Tashlich. This concept of a “head” isn’t just a marker of time — it represents the importance of mental and spiritual renewal and a focus on closing the book on a previous year’s transgressions.
Van der Kolk also says that “collective movement and music create a larger context for our lives, a meaning beyond our individual fate.” He specifically cites Jews davening at the Kotel in Jerusalem as an example of rhythmic, collective movement’s power to heal.
“Music binds together people who might individually be terrified but who collectively become powerful advocates for themselves with others,” he writes. “Along with language, dancing, marching and singing are uniquely ways to instill a sense of hope and courage.”
Bringing the ritual outside of the shul adds to the potency of the practice. Community and music add even more which, experts agree, amplify the benefits.
Still, there are many Jews who, for any number of reasons, don’t do Tashlich until adulthood. Levy sees it year after year, many adults performing Tashlich for the first time at Venice Beach. With that in mind, Levy ensures that it’s a memorable, spiritually-fulfilling experience. “We start with a drum circle as a symbol of drumming as an act of release, and then we cast our bread into the sea. It’s a sacred time, a time of love,” Levy said.
This year, Jews partaking in Tashlich around the world will have the one-year anniversary of the Oct. 7 attacks on their minds as they cast bread into water. “I really take the motto of the survivors of the Nova Festival to heart: ‘We will dance again,’” Levy said. “In Tashlich, we’re not only casting away burdens, but also lifting ourselves up to embrace hope.”
Van Der Kolk cites a study comparing the physical health and grade point average of three groups of students: one group was tasked with disclosing a traumatic experience through expressive body movement for 10 minutes a day, and then had to write about it for 10 minutes. The second group danced but was not asked to write about trauma. A third group only did a “routine exercise program.” Over a period of three months, the expressive body movement group that wrote about trauma had better grades and physical health.
Bernard Hiller, an acting instructor and transformational coach, says there is a clear link between physical actions and emotional release. One of his most popular instruction videos is titled, “Improve Your Acting Skills Through Dancing.” He sees a connection between Tashlich with movement, mental fortitude and mastering the fundamentals of any art.
“Physical actions register with us more than just a mental thing of letting go,” Hiller told The Journal. “We need to perform Tashlich every day because sometimes problems can just overwhelm us, which makes us unable to follow our instincts and follow what we need to do next.”
Whether you do Tashlich while standing on an L.A. River overpass or while gathered in the low tide with hundreds of people at a beach, there is much virtue in making a physical reflection when focusing on one’s own actions of the previous year.
“I like to think of it as a mikvah for your sins — your actions that were off or that you regret and sending them back to the source- not for erasure but for transformation,” Rabbi Emily Stern of Kol HaLev Synagogue just north of Baltimore told The Journal. “It’s not ourselves that we are immersing in the mikvah, but our actions.”
Read the Journal’s High Holy Days calendar to find a Tashlich ceremony near you.
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