I have a friend, Rabbi Klatsky, who lives in Minneapolis. He called me right before Rosh Hashanah to share this story with me. There was once a high school girl who ate a ton of junk food: candy, snacks, junk, cookies, ice cream—the works. It wasn't good for her on any level, and her parents would tell her over and over, “You gotta stop, you gotta change, you gotta stop, you gotta change.” And the more you tell her to stop, the more she does it.
One day, she comes to her father and says, “Daddy, I want to make a deal with you.” “What is it?” “I'll stop eating junk food for a full month. I'll eat only healthy food for a full month. Whatever healthy is. What is it? Asparagus? I'll eat healthy for a full month. And then, at the end of the month, if I do so, you give me whatever I want. Whatever you want. Whatever I ask, don't worry, it will not be too expensive, and it will not be dangerous.” Her father says, “Not going to be too expensive, not dangerous.” He talks to his wife. “You really want to do this? Not too expensive, not too dangerous?” “Okay, deal.” She's not going to do it anyhow.
A month later, she did it. A month of asparagus, salad, quinoa, whatever. She did it. Now she goes to her father and says, “Dad, I kept my part of the deal. Now it's time for my request.” Her father says, “Oh no. Okay, what's your request?” She says, “My request is: I'd like to shave my head.” Her father says, “What?” She says, “It doesn't cost any money, and it's not dangerous.” Her father says, “But it's nuts that you said, ‘Whatever I request,’ and this is my request.” Her father doesn't know what to do. He goes to his rabbi. His rabbi says, “Did you make a deal with her?” He says, “Yes.” The rabbi says, “You didn't make any qualification. You have to be able to afford it, and it can't be dangerous. You could afford it, and it's not dangerous. I think you have to do it.”
Her father tells the girl, “How are you going to walk around in public with a shaved head?” She says, “I wear a bandana on my head. It's okay.” He says, “Okay, I guess I have to let you do it.” Sure enough, the next day, the girl shaves her head. Now, she has this long, wonderful hair. She's crying as she's doing it. She's holding on to her hair. She shaves her head. Her father says, “Wow, this is very strange. Okay.” The next day, he takes her to school. He drives her to school with her shaved head and a bandana on. He pulls up to the school, and as he pulls up, another father pulls up with a daughter with a bandana on her head. He's like, “Oh no, this is like a whole Purim game. The whole grade. The whole—don't do it, girls—the whole Purim. It's like, is this Purim? Everyone's shaving their head.”
Now the other father says to him, “I have to thank your daughter.” He says, “Why?” The other father says, “You see, my daughter has the dreaded disease, and she lost all her hair. And for months, she's refused to come to school. Your daughter made a deal with my daughter. Your daughter said, ‘If I shave my head and I go to school, will you come with me?’ And now your daughter came to school with a bandana on her head. And so my daughter, for the first time in months, is comfortable going to school with a bandana on her head, ready to serve.”
Ready to serve is not usually rocket science. It's a very simple thing. The Yetzer Hara, in other words, your ego, loves for you to be full of regrets, loves for you to be full of distractions, loves for you to feel like a disappointment, loves for you to feel like you're not doing enough. It wants to convince you that you didn't have a good Rosh Hashanah, that Aseret Yemei Teshuvah (Ten Days of Repentance) is happening too fast. It wants you to think all those things, but that is not what you're here to think. Instead, you're here to think: the essence of the week is, “I am ready to serve the king.”
That's why the two main inserts in the Amidah are not even about Teshuvah (repentance). It's HaMelech. You are my king. HaMelech HaKadosh (The Holy King). HaMelech HaMishpat (The King of Justice). You are my king, and I am ready. So if you want to know what to think about, don't think about what you were dreaming about when you were in 11th grade. It's not relevant at this point. What you should be thinking about is one thing and one thing only: We have a king. What does he need from me next?