One Day at a Time: The Spiritual Power of Counting the Omer

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Rabbi Abraham Twerski points out that Yetziat Mitzrayim was filled with incredible miracles. We often focus on the dramatic events—the Ten Plagues, the splitting of the Red Sea—and in the Haggadah, we recount many of these miraculous details. But one miracle that we often overlook is perhaps the most remarkable: the transformation of the Israelites themselves. These were people who had lived in slavery for centuries, shaped by a slave mentality. Yet, within a short time, they were elevated to become a “kingdom of priests and a holy nation” (Shemot 19:6). How did such a profound change happen?

As human beings, we recognize that we are far from perfect—that our character traits constantly need refinement and growth. This self-awareness is an essential first step, but it can also lead to a sense of overwhelm. When we honestly reflect on how far we are from who we aspire to be, we might throw up our hands and wonder, “What chance do I have of becoming someone great?” The mountain seems too high to climb, the work too daunting to even begin.

But Judaism, in its wisdom, offers us a framework for transformation that acknowledges this very aspect of human nature: the counting of the Omer.

Each year, from the second night of Pesach until Shavuot, we count 49 days—one by one. At first glance, this might seem like a simple ritual, but the deeper message is one of patient, deliberate growth. The Omer teaches us that spiritual transformation doesn’t happen all at once—it happens one day at a time.

The Exodus from Egypt was not just a physical liberation. It marked the beginning of a monumental shift in identity. A people who had endured centuries of slavery, who had internalized a mindset of subjugation, were being reshaped into a “kingdom of priests and a holy nation” (Shemot 19:6). That transformation didn’t happen overnight. It took seven weeks—a sacred stretch of time to reorient, prepare, and grow into a new role.

The same is true for us. When we try to change everything at once, we risk burnout, discouragement, and paralysis. We take on so much that we end up achieving nothing. As the Gemara teaches (Yoma 40a): תפסת מרובה לא תפסת, תפסת מועט תפסת—”If you grasp too much, you grasp nothing; if you grasp a little, you grasp something.”

When we take our spiritual work in small, manageable steps—when we commit to doing just today’s work—the impossible becomes possible.

To wrap everything up, character growth doesn’t happen through sudden leaps—it happens through steady, daily steps. It’s not about becoming perfect overnight, but about making consistent progress over time. Counting the Omer reminds us of this truth. Each day is a quiet nudge toward transformation, showing us that lasting change doesn’t come from dramatic gestures, but from daily commitment.

As James Clear writes in Atomic Habits, “It is so easy to overestimate the importance of one defining moment and underestimate the value of making small improvements on a daily basis… The same way that money multiplies through compound interest, the effects of your habits multiply as you repeat them.”¹

This idea beautifully mirrors the practice of counting the Omer. Each day we count isn’t just an isolated number—it’s the sum of everything that came before. Day 10, for example, isn’t only “day 10”; it contains days 1 through 9 within it. Each count is a reminder that growth is cumulative. Just like habits build over time, each day of the Omer adds another layer to who we’re becoming, shaped by the consistency and intention of previous days.

Don’t Break the Chain

There’s another powerful lesson in the halachic rules of counting the Omer that speaks to the discipline required for genuine personal growth. Jewish law teaches that if you miss counting even one full day—meaning you neither counted at night nor made it up during the following day—you can no longer continue counting with a blessing. You may still count the remaining days, but something essential has been lost. This halacha highlights the importance of consistency and follow-through. If we want to preserve the full integrity of the mitzvah—if we want the blessing to remain—we have to show up every single day.

It’s a striking metaphor for the work of self-development. Often, we start with good intentions, but our efforts are inconsistent: we engage deeply one day, then lose focus the next. We tell ourselves we’re too tired, too busy, or that we’ll just pick it back up tomorrow. But the Omer teaches us that real transformation happens through daily effort. Skipping one day may not end the journey—we can still count without a blessing—but it does interrupt the rhythm. It reminds us that growth is cumulative, and when we break that chain, something meaningful is lost.

This halachic structure reinforces a deeper truth: lasting change isn’t built on occasional bursts of inspiration, but on steady, committed practice—one small step at a time.

In Atomic Habits, James Clear introduces what he calls the “two-minute rule.” He writes, “Even when you know you should start small, it’s easy to start too big. When you dream about making a change, excitement inevitably takes over and you end up trying to do too much too soon.”² The two-minute rule encourages us to scale back our ambitions at the beginning: “When you start a new habit, it should take less than two minutes to do.” This approach aligns beautifully with the daily discipline of the Omer. The act of counting takes only a moment, but the power lies in showing up every day, no matter what.

The journey from Egypt to Sinai is also our own—from limitation to potential, from stagnation to purpose. And like the Israelites, we begin that journey not by racing ahead, but by taking it one day at a time.