“Circle, Arrow, Spiral”: The Dynamics of Change and Acceptance in Teshuva

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Change and acceptance are two different forces we confront on our journey of teshuva. They are opposite forces, each pulling in a different direction. In this article, we will explore what each contributes and how, when balanced, they can work together.

In her book Circle, Arrow, Spiral, Miriam Kosman uses these three shapes as an analogy for the masculine, the feminine, and the synthesis of the two. We will borrow that framework to frame our discussion of the forces of change and acceptance. Let’s start by explaining what each of the shapes represents.

The arrow, which embodies the masculine, represents the drive to move forward: to achieve, succeed, and overcome obstacles. It reflects the impulse to improve, to transform the present into something better.

The circle, by contrast, which embodies the feminine, represents the drive for harmony and stillness — the ability to accept reality as it is, to rest in the moment, and to embrace ourselves as we are.

The spiral is a synthesis of the two — not static like the circle, and not only forward-charging like the arrow, but a movement that both accepts and transforms.

Healthy change means that we learn to be patient with ourselves, recognizing that certain habits that have developed over years and won’t simply disappear overnight. It also involves acting with intention—considering not just what to do, but the best and most effective way to do it, planning it carefully and with attention to detail, just as we would a journey that we’re about to undertake.

In this context, we can understand the arrow as change and the circle as acceptance. Change pushes us beyond where we are, while acceptance grounds us in who we are. Both are essential in teshuva, but leaning too far to either side leads to imbalance.

The Challenge

Too much change can mean rushing ahead to improve without first understanding ourselves and where we’re holding. We may say to ourselves, ‘I’ll be a better person,’ without first acknowledging our flaws, weaknesses, and the real reasons behind our past actions. We want to change, but we don’t know how to do it in a way that will work for us. We lack self-knowledge, and without it our efforts risk being unsustainable; they won’t stick and we’ll end up back at square one.
In addition, as Rabbi Abraham Twerski puts it¹, “If we expect ourselves to change faster than actually possible, we are apt to despair of our efforts.” In other words, unrealistic expectations of quick transformation can set us up for failure. Instead of moving forward step by step, we collapse under the weight of our own impatience.

Too much acceptance, on the other hand, can trap us in complacency. We may grow so comfortable with our current state that we convince ourselves no change is needed—or even possible. We say, ‘This is just who I am,’ and resign ourselves to staying as we are, even if it isn’t the best version of ourselves. Yes, acceptance is necessary, but only when it serves as a means to an end—the end being change—not as an end in itself.

As Dr Jordan Peterson points out, if we fully embrace the idea that “‘you should accept yourself just the way you are,’ then what does that say about who we ought to become?” By definition, having a vision of the future and knowing how we ought to be requires that we also recognize we are not perfect now.

The Solution

The solution to balancing change and acceptance is to create a dynamic between the two. It must begin with acceptance. We need to acknowledge that sin, fallibility, and imperfection are part of the human condition, as it says in Kohelet (7:20): כִּ֣י אָדָ֔ם אֵ֥ין צַדִּ֖יק בָּאָ֑רֶץ אֲשֶׁ֥ר יַעֲשֶׂה־טּ֖וֹב וְלֹ֥א יֶחֱטָֽא׃ – “For there is not a just man upon earth who does good and does not sin.”
This acceptance cannot be vague or abstract, as if merely admitting in general that we have weaknesses. We must face them directly and identify them specifically, however uncomfortable that process may be. But acceptance isn’t just about recognizing our flaws; it also means treating ourselves with kindness as we confront them. We need to be able to forgive ourselves for past errors since if we cannot accept our history, our attempts at change may be hindered by shame or guilt.

Once we have accepted ourselves honestly, change can begin. But it must not be unrealistic change that demands we become a tzaddik overnight. It should be realistic change—small, practical steps forward that we can sustain.

This synthesis of change and acceptance works symbiotically, represented by the upward spiral. Acceptance clarifies what realistic change looks like, and small changes reinforce acceptance by showing that progress is possible.

Healthy acceptance means that just as we must accept our flaws, we must also acknowledge our progress. If we fail to recognize the small steps we’ve taken, we risk dismissing them as insignificant. When we embrace even gradual changes, they become part of who we are—and that, in turn, strengthens us to continue moving upward. Healthy acceptance also means recognizing that backsliding may happen; it doesn’t represent failure, but is simply another part of being human.
Healthy change means that we learn to be patient with ourselves, recognizing that certain habits that have developed over years and won’t simply disappear overnight. It also involves acting with intention—considering not just what to do, but the best and most effective way to do it, planning it carefully and with attention to detail, just as we would a journey that we’re about to undertake.

Finding the right balance between acceptance and change is the secret ingredient to meaningful, lasting teshuva. As Rabbi Twerski explains², “as with all traits, the golden path of virtue is the median, and not either extreme.” This is the essence of teshuva. It is not about demanding impossible change from ourselves, nor about passively resigning to remain as we are. It is about finding the balance—the dynamic movement between acceptance and change—that allows us to grow in a sustainable way. When we embrace our humanity, acknowledge our flaws, and take realistic steps forward, we begin to walk that golden path. Each small step upward in the spiral is an act of teshuva: rooted in acceptance, propelled by change, and guided by balance.