The autumnal festivals, Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur and Succot, eclipse, for all intents and purposes, a month of our working lives. Like Shabbat, creative work is prohibited by Jewish law on the festivals.

There are a total of seven such days during this period, which means that a quarter of the month is set aside. This year they predominantly fall on weekends so the impact on the working week is less. But in many years, they fall mainly in the middle of the week. Which, in addition to Shabbats, restricts work for a relatively significant part of the month.

It is particularly challenging that these auspicious days arrive during the time that students are beginning school and university. Days of orientation, which are typically packed with information about what the academic year will entail, force students who wish to observe these special days to have to choose between starting the academic term on a strong footing and remaining faithful to their religious obligations. Sadly, despite espousing inclusivity, this is something that many universities seem to overlook in their planning.

But with all of its challenge, there is something meaningful and important about these festivals that have shaped us as a people — and continue to do so. On each occasion, we focus on another ideal or concept that aims to encourage us towards moral growth and integrity.

Each of the Jewish festivals are appointments with God (mo’adim in Hebrew). These are, if you like, the beginning of term in our religious annual cycle, but also a time to reflect on the year that has passed and reflect on ourselves and our spiritual health.

The conceptual framework of this time of year is profoundly introspective and at the same time orientates us towards accountability and responsibility before God.

Rosh Hashanah is known in our liturgy as Yom HaZikaron, the Day of Memory. We sound the shofar in order to awaken our hearts to remember the whole of our lives and to consider how we are living and how we might wish to live in the future. We turn to God on these days and proclaim: “Remember us for life.”

We then look towards Yom Kippur to address any aspects of our lives that we wish to amend or repair. For the ten days from Rosh Hashana until Yom Kippur, we seek to do teshuva, to return to a life of righteousness and virtue and consider where we might have veered from it over the last year.

On Yom Kippur we speak openly before God, and verbally articulate where we’ve gone wrong. It is a day of remorse, repair and rectification and one that highlights the attribute of mercy.

As we come away from these days we do not go straight into the daily grind of life and the new year. There is a transition from the sublime, angelic state of the Days of Awe to the daily rituals of the here and now. Succot is that transition.

It is a festival that reminds us to live our fullest lives, to embrace the present and to know most fundamentally that the world in which we live is temporary and transient. It prompts us to find happiness in the unique moment at hand and to live it fully.

By building a succah, a temporary dwelling, and living in it for seven days, only to take it down again, we accept in microcosm the fleeting and precious nature of human life on this earth.

These days are indeed filled with meaningful ritual and it is not a time that easily lends itself to carrying on with life as usual.

But there is something to be said for a people who, for close to three millennia, pause annually to collectively consider the trajectory of their lives. When repeated annually for centuries, as we have done, it not only betters the lives of those who practise it but also shapes the mind and heart of the entire people.

The Jewish soul has, in no small part, been forged in these days that overflow with occasion. And while, at times, they can interrupt our daily patterns, it is in a sense, precisely what they are meant to do.

For the Jewish conscience, that is dedicated to justice and righteousness, has been steadily, consistently and painstakingly wrought in this beautiful season.

These days are meant to disrupt our standard routines. They are there to challenge us, humble us and inspire us.

Through the disruption comes clarity. Through the challenge comes self-awareness. Through taking up our appointments with God, we are better placed with him and with ourselves for the year ahead.

Joseph Dweck is the Senior Rabbi of the S&P Sephardi Community of the United Kingdom