Like every holiday, Sukkot and Simchat Torah are built on the foundation of religious laws, or halachot, contained in the Torah she’bichtav and explained in the Torah she’baal peh. We live in the sukkah, we shake the lulav and etrog, have different prayers, and complete the reading of the Sefer Torah. And then there are the traditions and customs: decorating the sukkah, eating stuffed cabbage, giving out candy to children on the night of Simchat Torah. There’s the letter of the law and spirit of the law and these customs tend to create a sense of festivity, tradition and fun. Each year my family looks forward to the special dessert my mom makes, once per year for Sukkot, and my father and I, to this day, maintain a nearly 30-year tradition of visiting an arcade on Chol Hamoed—just the two of us.

As I sat down to write this column I thought about this year’s Sukkot experience and how it will likely be riddled with dialectics: the stress of preparing and being sure the mitzvot are fulfilled, as well as the joy of time together and connecting with Hashem. There will also be a deep sense of pain and sadness as we remember the Simchat Torah of last year and as we continue to think about the ongoing grief, while davening for our brothers and sisters in Israel each day, and yet—still coupling this with the simcha or joy of Yom Tov—a time when we are not supposed to mourn. This also includes completing the reading of the sefer Torah and recognizing the ending of the Five Books of the Torah, knowing what comes next for Am Yisrael and also holding space for the new beginning as we start again with Bereishit.

I’d like to offer two aspects of Sukkot that may pertain more to the theme or spirit and customs of the holiday, and that might offer a sense of solace as we enter the holiday—knowing the joy and hardships that may arise: nature and community.

Sukkot is a holiday that celebrates harvest. Nature, in this context, is about connecting with the way the outdoors can actually help our nervous systems. In his book, “The Anxious Generation” Jonathan Haidt mentioned that one of the best assignments he gave his students as a professor was a journaling prompt to be in nature in New York City, without a phone or headphones, and simply be. To notice their surroundings and then write about what this was like. He described that the journal entries he received from students were amongst the most beautiful assignments he had ever read.

We know that on Shabbat and holidays we are inherently disconnected from the world of technology. But that inherent disconnection does not mean we are actually connecting to ourselves or others. Sukkot is a time that forces us to be outside and there is such a beautiful, natural coping skill in doing so. Of leaving the four walls of our homes which can house beauty and also overwhelm, and instead actually take notice of the world. Experience the fresh air.

Breathe more deeply. This is not about needing to become one with nature, it is about stepping outside of yourself in some way: notice what is bigger than just you. Take a walk and look for colors of the rainbow, or notice what sounds pass by. These are all tools that promote grounding and gratitude which are often needed in our busy lives.

Another tool: community. While community may not sound like a tool, the feeling of coming together with others can actually be the greatest coping mechanism we have. I was speaking to my best friend in Israel a number of weeks ago about how I felt like Simchat Torah might be harder for me than October 7, and she pointed out that at least on Simchat Torah there is a natural togetherness—we are at shul with one another, celebrating the holiday in a way that can inspire hope and thinking about the future. I was actually walking when this was being discussed and I remember stopping in my tracks and realizing how true this felt. It was solidified even more when, on October 7, I commemorated in my own way but had to work and therefore felt myself craving an environment with others who understood.

But community may not come naturally; some of us may be hosting or going out for meals, or attending services. Others may not be able to do so for various reasons, or they may experience that feeling of being lonely in a crowded room. I’ve heard countless questions about what community and togetherness can really offer. It is a remedy for loneliness, for the feeling of being “other,” for a sense of being lost. Being part of a group, especially during difficult times, allows for us to think beyond ourselves and also to feel a sense of belonging that is profoundly needed as humans, but especially during times of struggle.

So as we approach the holiday, filled with dialectics and traditions and halachot—see how you can connect and also experience the holiday beyond yourself, in nature and with others.

Chag Sameach.

Temimah Zucker, LCSW, works in New York and New Jersey with individuals ages 18 and older who are struggling with mental health concerns, and she specializes in working with those looking to heal their relationships between their bodies and souls. Zucker is an advocate and public speaker concerning eating disorder awareness and a metro New York consultant at Monte Nido. She is honored to now serve on the board of Atzmi. To learn more or to reach her, visit www.temimah.com.