Want to Grow Closer to Judaism? Start With One Small Step

You believe in Hashem and see the Torah as sacred—but when someone asks, “So why don’t you observe the mitzvot?” the answer may come almost automatically: “I can’t keep Shabbat,” “It’s not for me,” or “I don’t want to change my whole life.”

This feeling is familiar to many Jews. You may believe deeply while still feeling that a fully observant life is too distant, difficult, or intimidating. So how can you begin closing that gap without feeling like a hypocrite or as though you have to give up who you are?

First, it is important to understand that this struggle is not unusual, nor does it necessarily mean that your beliefs are insincere. On the contrary, the fact that the question bothers you may point to a genuine desire for a deeper connection with Hashem and Judaism.

The problem is that many people imagine there are only two options: continue exactly as they are, or make one enormous, life-changing leap into a completely different world.

But spiritual growth does not have to happen that way.

Change in almost every area of life can be frightening. Leaving your comfort zone is difficult because we naturally prefer what is familiar, even when we know something may be missing.

Yet facing that discomfort is often where real growth begins—in a career, in relationships, in our connections with others, and also in our relationship with Judaism.

Instead of asking yourself, “Am I afraid?” ask: “Is this fear a good enough reason to stop me from exploring the life I truly want?”

Sometimes, once we look closely at what frightens us, we discover that the change itself is far less intimidating than we imagined.

More Than a List of Restrictions

Much of the hesitation surrounding religious observance comes from the way mitzvot are sometimes perceived.

For someone looking at an observant lifestyle from the outside, Judaism can appear to be an endless list of restrictions, prohibitions, and rigid rules. But from a Jewish perspective, a mitzvah is not simply a restriction. It is an opportunity to create a deeper connection with Hashem and bring holiness, meaning, and purpose into everyday life.

Think of an athlete preparing for an Olympic competition. The athlete follows a demanding training schedule, carefully considers nutrition, and prioritizes proper sleep. We do not usually describe that structure as a “prison,” because we understand that the discipline is what allows the athlete to reach their potential.

The same is true of a professional pastry chef, who carefully follows measurements and chooses quality ingredients to produce the desired result. Those boundaries do not prevent creativity; they provide the framework that makes excellence possible.

Mitzvot can be understood in a similar way. They are not intended simply to restrict life, but to give it direction, structure, and deeper meaning.

Another misconception that prevents people from beginning is the thought: “Judaism is for religious people, not for me.”

But the Torah was given to the entire Jewish people, not only to those who already observe all the mitzvot.

Judaism is not meant to be something we admire only from a distance. It enters daily life: the food we eat, our relationships with other people, the way we use our time, and the way we understand ourselves and the world around us.

And even if it feels as though there is too much to learn, practice, and remember, there is always somewhere to begin.

One of the best-known examples is Rabbi Akiva, who began his journey into Torah learning at age 40 and ultimately became one of the greatest sages in Jewish history.

His story carries a timeless message: When it comes to spiritual and personal growth, it is never too late to begin.

It Does Not Have to Be All or Nothing

So how can you begin without becoming overwhelmed?

The answer is surprisingly simple: You do not have to do everything at once.

One of the biggest obstacles to reconnecting with Judaism is the belief that it must happen through one dramatic, all-or-nothing transformation. In reality, spiritual growth is often gradual. It may unfold over years, and in many ways, it continues throughout a lifetime.

Trying to change too much too quickly can leave a person feeling overwhelmed and discouraged. A more sustainable approach is to keep learning and moving forward at a pace that allows each new step to become meaningful and lasting.

Want to bring more Shabbat into your life? Begin with something you can realistically maintain—lighting Shabbat candles, making Kiddush, putting your phone aside for part of Shabbat, or sitting down for a Friday-night meal without screens.

Want to strengthen your connection to prayer? You might begin with Shema, a chapter of Tehillim, or, for men, putting on tefillin.

One step does not have to contain the entire journey.

Over time, one small practice can become familiar, and another can follow. There is no reason to feel embarrassed because you are not yet doing everything. What matters is that the steps you take are sincere and moving in the direction you want to go.

What Will Everyone Else Think?

Another unavoidable part of the process may be dealing with reactions from family and friends.

Once you begin adopting new practices, you may hear comments such as, “What, are you becoming religious?” or “Where is all this going?”

Those questions can feel uncomfortable, especially when you are still figuring out the answers for yourself.

But reconnecting with Judaism is not something you need to be ashamed of. You are exploring a tradition that has connected generations of Jews for thousands of years and may have been part of your own family’s life only a few generations ago.

If you remain sincere and comfortable with the path you are choosing, other people’s comments may gradually lose their power over you.

At the same time, growing in your own observance does not mean preaching to others or looking down on people who have chosen differently. The goal is to work on your own relationship with Hashem, not to manage someone else’s.

Real change begins within.

Ultimately, the most important question is not, “What will people think of me?” but, “What kind of life do I truly want to live?”

Even a step that seems small from the outside can carry enormous meaning for the person taking it. Choosing not to turn on the radio while driving on Shabbat, deciding to keep certain foods out of your kitchen, saying Shema before bed, or beginning to learn more about a mitzvah may seem like minor changes.

But no sincere step toward Hashem is meaningless.

You do not need to know today exactly where the journey will take you. You only need to decide whether you are willing to take the next step.