“Yet I don’t understand why we — and by “we” I mean those of us eager to find an end to the violence — why can’t we find a way to be sad together, not at each other?”
As a Jewish person, I have spent a lot of time also thinking on this question. We hear “but” from somebody else and it feels like we are being punched in the stomach - our world shrinks in around us when we hear that “but” (as you beautifully wrote).
The trauma of the Holocaust, of decades of subsequent conflict, and the pain of the Jewish people still lives inside of us - when we hear “but” that pain rises up in us. Yet, what are we supposed to do when the “but...” is also true? Do other people owe us the patience to navigate our trauma while a right-wing Israeli government perpetuates human rights violations? Do the atrocities committed by Hamas, as terrible as they are, alter or justify the fundamental power differentials present between the Israeli government and the Palestinian people?
I fully believe that nearly all people feel the sadness and pain of our losses - i think in response to these traumas, we are on edge and we are scared and we take “but...” as a sign that the world is falling apart around us and is against us. Our ability to share sadness with other people, I think, is deeply related to our own healing work and being able to bear witness to the many truths (as you mentioned) that are all simultaneously true. We must be able to hear the truth in “but...” in order to receive the empathy of others.
Yes, that but can also be true. Ezra Klein, in his how, also said "grief moves slowly, and war moves quickly." And I think that's also true. We didn't have enough time for our grief before being forced to move on.
I see many people I love also articulate that we are being forced to move on, but I think that is giving other people (or even the idea of other people) too much power over our spiritual lives. Why, as Jewish people, are we allowing non-Jewish people to have any control about how we choose to grieve, why do we give away that power? Why do other peoples words have such control over us? We cannot slow the reality of war down to give us space to grieve, people are terrified that there is only more devastation to come; we must create that space to grieve for ourselves so that we may honor those lost and so we may ease our own pain.
“Yet I don’t understand why we — and by “we” I mean those of us eager to find an end to the violence — why can’t we find a way to be sad together, not at each other?”
As a Jewish person, I have spent a lot of time also thinking on this question. We hear “but” from somebody else and it feels like we are being punched in the stomach - our world shrinks in around us when we hear that “but” (as you beautifully wrote).
The trauma of the Holocaust, of decades of subsequent conflict, and the pain of the Jewish people still lives inside of us - when we hear “but” that pain rises up in us. Yet, what are we supposed to do when the “but...” is also true? Do other people owe us the patience to navigate our trauma while a right-wing Israeli government perpetuates human rights violations? Do the atrocities committed by Hamas, as terrible as they are, alter or justify the fundamental power differentials present between the Israeli government and the Palestinian people?
I fully believe that nearly all people feel the sadness and pain of our losses - i think in response to these traumas, we are on edge and we are scared and we take “but...” as a sign that the world is falling apart around us and is against us. Our ability to share sadness with other people, I think, is deeply related to our own healing work and being able to bear witness to the many truths (as you mentioned) that are all simultaneously true. We must be able to hear the truth in “but...” in order to receive the empathy of others.
Thank you again for your words ❤️
Yes, that but can also be true. Ezra Klein, in his how, also said "grief moves slowly, and war moves quickly." And I think that's also true. We didn't have enough time for our grief before being forced to move on.
I see many people I love also articulate that we are being forced to move on, but I think that is giving other people (or even the idea of other people) too much power over our spiritual lives. Why, as Jewish people, are we allowing non-Jewish people to have any control about how we choose to grieve, why do we give away that power? Why do other peoples words have such control over us? We cannot slow the reality of war down to give us space to grieve, people are terrified that there is only more devastation to come; we must create that space to grieve for ourselves so that we may honor those lost and so we may ease our own pain.
It is so painful to see these pictures. I pray for the health and safety of the hostages.