Mishnah Sukkah 2:9
כָּל שִׁבְעַת הַיָּמִים אָדָם עוֹשֶׂה סֻכָּתוֹ קֶבַע וּבֵיתוֹ עֲרַאי
All seven days of Sukkot, a person renders his sukkah his permanent residence and his house his temporary residence
Sukkot is a physically taxing holiday. Building a sukkah can be cumbersome – the walls, the roof, schlepping in tables, and chairs. Not to mention the many trips back and forth from the kitchen taking out food, drinks, plates, cups – then eight days later, the process of taking down the sukkah. Out of all the holidays, this one requires extensive physical exertion.
What goes underappreciated is the requirement to also shift one’s mental state. This doesn’t take the same kind of energy, but it is a challenge. In fact, even if one does not have a sukkah to dwell in, this mental shift can still be made over the course of the holiday. It is this: during sukkot one is supposed to believe that their sukkah is their permanent home, and consider their actual home as being temporary.
The beauty of this is in its brutal but liberating truth. Much of what we deem permanent is not. I remember thinking this last year as I sat in my sukkah and looked at my home. I could see the kids playing through the windows. Our home – so sturdy and full of warmth – cannot be forever. Buildings don’t last forever. The kids, so full of energy, will grow and change. And the sukkah? This structure, though put up for only a week, has lasted thousands of years, and embraced generations of Jews.
Life is unpredictable, or rather the only thing we know for sure is change will come. As we experience all that life has to offer, as we move from this building to that one, and we and our loved ones grow and change, it is comforting to return to this simple hut, and look on at all that is temporary from the doorway of a home that has lasted millenia.