B’rachot (the plural of b’racha) do not so much bless or praise God as declare God the source of all blessing. They serve as reminders to us to stop, appreciate, and sanctify the moments of our lives.

B’rachot are recited in a variety of settings, some clearly “religious”, such as when you light Sabbath candles or begin a holiday. But there are b’rachot for virtually every moment in life: seeing a rainbow, hearing of a death, eating a piece of fruit newly in season, even after going to the bathroom. According to our tradition, Jews are invited to recite one hundred blessings a day.

B’rachot are Jewish wake-up calls to wonder, or to use the Buddhist term, “mindfulness.” Blessings can remind us that we are not the center of the universe (the bread comes from the work of many hands and the miracle of photosynthesis), that it is good to be alive (and healthy enough to wake, eat, use the bathroom). B’rachot give our sense of awe (at the sunrise, mountaintops, rainbows) a specifically Jewish form.

Jewish blessings address God in two “voices”: Ata (“You”) is singular, intimate, and familiar; Eloheynu (“our God”) is plural and formal, connecting the individual with the larger Jewish community. Together, the two forms of address also hint at the shimmering duality of spiritual experiences: the feeling of great intimacy or oneness with God/creation, and the sense of awe and humility before the enormity and complexity of creation/God.
- p. 49-50

I realized that blessings serve the same purpose as Shabbat. They act as “speed bumps” during the course of our day. When we sit down for a meal, instead of digging in, we pause, say a blessing, perhaps reflect upon what it takes on the part of the farmer, the truckers, the markets, the food preparers, the utensil makers, and Mother Nature to create that meal and bring it to our tables. By saying blessings, we move from fast food to reflective eating and certainly to appreciation. Perhaps that single shift in behavior is transformative well beyond just eating a meal?

Expanding the metaphor of fast food and reflective eating to the next level, the notion of saying 100 blessings each day, we begin a change from fast living to reflective lives. In Judaism, there are blessings for almost every action and for the many wonders we encounter daily. We bless the washing of our hands, for example. We recognize the power of water to rejuvenate, cleanse, prevent disease, and prepare us to eat “bread.” We make a blessing on thunder and lightning, on rainbows, on the beginning of a new month, upon eating seasonal fruit for the first time that year, upon all new beginnings, upon opening our eyes in the morning, upon marveling at the wonders of the body after using the restroom, and the list goes on and on. At every turn, blessings slow us down. We feel those gentle “speed bumps” in life‘s road that remind us to take nothing for granted.

In recent years there has been a movement to create “mindfulness”, especially for children in our schools. It is a powerful movement that helps people focus on and appreciate the moment. Reciting 100 blessings each day is perhaps the ultimate in mindful behavior, using the concrete recitation of blessings to continually refocus our souls, minds, and bodies toward self-reflection, appreciation, and the simple joy of being alive.

Moreover, blessings engender humility. They remind us that the world we live in and the bodies we inhabit are “on loan” to us and must be returned in good shape. Blessings also elevate our actions to the realm of the sacred. Fast food often debases the action of eating to an animal-like function of self-preservation. There is no joy or meaning in such action; there’s simply sustenance without appreciation, reflection, or any understanding of the intricate life forces that sustain our world. Blessings transform fast-food culture to a culture where we begin to appreciate a complete understanding of how intricate and delicate the ecology of life really is. Lessons ritualize mindfulness. They bring acute awareness, sharpen our senses, create an organic rhythm to living, and keep us grounded and humble as we acknowledge the constant wonders of creation.
- P. 26-27