Another week in Jerusalem...and what a week it has been! Unless you've been actively avoiding the news, you're probably at least somewhat aware of what people in Israel call, "the Situation." Communities in southern Israel continue to be under rocket fire from Hamas; Palestinian civilians continue to be caught in the crossfire (after basically being put there by their own leadership), and Israeli combat soldiers continue to carry out their ground operation in Gaza, which, tragically, has cost many of them their lives. In a country where everybody knows somebody who is fighting in Gaza, the mood here is tense and anxious as people keep tabs on the news, hoping there will be no more fatalities but knowing that, most likely, there will be.
Personally, I do not have any relatives in the Israeli army, but I do have several good friends whose husbands, brothers, and sons are currently in combat units in Gaza. I cannot even imagine the emotional roller coasters that these friends of mine are on; I don't know how they can successfully focus on activities of daily living while worrying about the safety of their loved ones. But, they do, and for that they have my total admiration. I don't know how I would handle being in their shoes. The truth is, being a watcher has been stressful and painful enough.
Fortunately, after many years of therapy I have learned quite a few "distress tolerance" skills, and during the past couple of weeks I have had many occasions to use them. I'll be honest and admit that, often, the path of least resistance seems to be just immersing myself in the anxiety and sadness, watching the news unfold and worrying about the people I know who are in harm's way...but if I did that, I would be miserable all the time. So, I've turned to my arsenal of distress tolerance strategies, out of which have emerged three favorites:
1) Distraction. For this, I have two main sources to thank: My ulpan program at the Conservative Yeshiva of Jerusalem, and the summer learning program at the Pardes Institute of Jewish Studies. Between these two programs, I have spent seven hours a day, five days a week, actively engaged in learning both conversational Hebrew and traditional Jewish texts. And, even when I felt like I could not possibly focus on anything other than the Situation, inevitably I would get wrapped up in my studies and would be able to shelve my anxiety, at least temporarily. It helped immensely to know that all of my classmates were experiencing feelings similar to mine. During our breaks or over lunch, we would often talk about our worries and reactions to the news. But, we also talked about other things, giving ourselves the time and space to think about life outside the current war. In times of stress, there really is nothing quite like being connected to people who "get it."
2) Prayer. I'll be totally up front and say that before this summer, I could probably count on one hand the number of times I'd said tehillim. I didn't really understand how that whole routine worked, and it was just Not My Thing. But, at my therapist's suggestion, I talked to a wonderful teacher of mine about how to use prayer as a way to calm my mind when anxious, obsessive thoughts start to take over. My teacher suggested choosing a favorite passuk or piece of tehillim and repeating it to myself slowly when I started to feel my mind careen out of control. I happened to know exactly one chapter of tehillim (luckily it's a great one!), and over the past week I've tried to recite it both during formal davening and at any time when I start to feel particularly worried about what's going on in Israel and the safety of my friends. It has been especially helpful to think of the names of the soldiers for whose safety I'm praying, and to recite tehillim with them in mind. While I have no conclusive answer as to whether or not this practice works cosmically, I will say that it has helped me a lot in the moment, which is good enough for me!
3) Getting Involved. What I hear Israelis saying over and over (and what I'm also saying) is, "I wish I could do something to help." Thinking positive thoughts is great, but sometimes you just want to roll up your sleeves and physically do something productive to make a tough situation a little bit better. Israelis, I have found, are experts at this. Kids in youth groups are out on the street, getting strangers to donate money and supplies to the soldiers; civilians are collecting food and personally driving it down to the soldiers in Gaza; thousands of people are turning out at the funerals and shivas of soldiers they didn't even know, just so the families feel the love of the entire Jewish community. This morning, I went with a few of my friends to an event at a private home in Jerusalem, where dozens of people had come together to assemble care packages for soldiers in units that have suffered casualties. As we all worked together to pack up army-issue socks and underwear, granola bars, books of tehillim, and t-shirts, people kept commenting on how good it felt to finally be doing something to help. Taking action, it seems, is a remarkably effective way to combat feelings of helplessness and anxiety.
There have been many times over the past few weeks when I've felt almost overcome with sadness, or fear, or worry. But now, as I reflect on the skills I've used, the connections I've made, and the courage I've witnessed, what I feel most of all is love. The news is still heartbreaking, and loved ones are still in danger. But being part of a larger community that works to support each other has made the tough moments easier to bear, and has replaced a lot of the anxiety with feelings of warmth and connection. My heart is full of gratitude to Am Yisrael, and I wish us all a truly peaceful, quiet, Shabbat Shalom.
No comments:
Post a Comment