Since the events of October 7, 2023, I think we can all agree there has been a heaviness on Earth. Regardless of which “side” you are on, we all feel it. This piece is not meant to be a history lesson of the conflict in the Middle East or to convince you to support one side or the other. My goal is to inspire you to feel a sense of connectedness to one other – to all of humanity – because that is the only way we will find peace, however long that takes.
I cannot remember the last time in my life where I felt this hopeless and heartbroken. Although I believe in Israel’s right to exist, I recognize many people in the world don’t. This is evident based on the various demonstrations in a number of cities, and people have a right to speak out for what they believe in – both sides do. They might not understand the context, or they themselves might come from an oppressed group and question why “we” not “them” have a right to a state. They also may liberally attach themselves to a cause to feel a sense of belonging. And, of course, this could be said for either side.
Notice how I use “them.” They. They and Them. Us and We. The Other.
The attacks of October 7 felt more intense for me not only because I believe Hamas’s actions were the epitome of terror, but also because I can more easily relate to those directly impacted. Israelis are only one degree of separation from me. I am Jewish, so I naturally have Israelis close in my life. While sitting with the feelings of hopelessness and heartbreak, I also underwent somewhat of an existential crisis.
Does the fact that I am more easily able to relate to the individuals directly impacted by this conflict mean I value lives differently?
People are murdered every single day all over the world. War exists in many places other than the Middle East. But I admittedly do not feel those deaths as deeply as I felt the deaths that occurred recently in Israel. I am not left emotionally raw, crying several times per day, unable to focus at work, and questioning why anyone would bring a child into this world. This is because Israelis are me – just one degree of separation.
Our emotional reliance on the separation between ourselves and the person directly impacted highlights our separateness as humans. Why is this?
Emotions, including fear and sadness, are individual. They are based on our egos in the sense that our egos are the exemplification of ourselves as individuals. This does not mean that our emotions are not grounded in reality. In fact, the opposite. How we conceive of “reality” is also based on ourselves as individuals. My reality is different than my neighbor’s reality. My experience as a Jewish person is different than a Palestinian person’s experience. So it is natural for the ego-based feelings to be grounded in to whom we can most easily relate.
But this is not a helpful dynamic when we seek peace. Aggression exists from both sides of this conflict. Both from Hamas and from the Israeli government. And also from the supporters of each who justify the deaths of thousands of innocent people. As an observer, it is easier to point a finger to explain why a child was murdered – whether that child is Israeli or Palestinian – than to simply sit with that horror. To sit with it feels too overwhelming. It might hurt your ability to move throughout your day, since we are still expected to be functioning members of our society, work productively, grocery shop, clean our home, walk our dog, organize our finances, and care for our family.
I feel compassion for the desire to fight, to blame, to be the activist. But I ask us to also focus on our connectedness. None of these deaths are justified when we tap into our togetherness. Underneath our egos we have collective consciousness – our togetherness. We are all feeling the heaviness, whether or not we agree on who to blame. We all feel it. The sadness, hopelessness, anger, fear, and heartbreak has permeated through all of us.
This, in and of itself, highlights our connectedness. We cannot escape it no matter where we point our finger.
We are first connected, and then we separate. Perhaps one of the purposes of our individuality is for us to learn how to reconnect as part of the collective. We find spirituality and divinity in moments of togetherness, whether we feel part of the whole in nature, in a synagogue, in a mosque, or in a church. Whether it manifests through connecting with a tree, noticing seasons change, or through our collective experience as humans.
If we can stay connected just a little bit longer, we have fostered a more connected world. More empathy and compassion, regardless of sides. We must believe this energy will overtake the hate. We have to muster courage to find love by tapping into our collective experience. Even for just a few minutes.
I end with a quote from Martin Luther King Jr.:
“Power without love is reckless and abusive, and love without power is sentimental and anemic. Power at its best is love implementing the demands of justice, and justice at its best is power correcting everything that stands against love.”
Notice which of your actions might be without love, where can you feel more compassion and more empathy for the other side. Justice, to me, is not retribution. It is replacing hate with love, and the courage that requires. Power will manifest out of that and peace will begin to trickle in. In the meantime, I will continue to have faith in this process and remind myself that we are never not all of us.
Reflection questions:
How can you tap into the collective?
How can you practice self-care while feeling heartbroken?
What is one action you can take today to add kindness in the world?
So well written and straight from your heart. Meditation and journaling help when I’m down about the world. Sometimes I have to meditate for at least 45 minutes to let go of the images of brutality, the anger and sadness.