The Holding

Shalom from...Jerusalem!  Thank G-d, once again I have been fortunate to come to Israel during my summer break from teaching.  The past two weeks have been full of packing, worrying, flying, overcoming jet-lag, and gleefully running into the arms of friends and teachers I hadn't seen in months, or, in many cases, a full year.  (For those of you whom I haven't yet seen...fear not, I'm coming for you!)

If you've been following the news, you know that this is not an easy time for Israel.  As always, the issues are complex and trying to untangle them is a little like peeling an onion--as soon as you get through one layer, there's another one right underneath.  But here's a very brief synopsis of one heartbreaking layer of that onion:  On June 12, three Jewish Israeli teenage boys--Eyal, Naftali, and Gil-ad, were kidnapped while attempting to go home to their respective families for Shabbat.  The boys were hitchhiking from a well-known hitchhiking stop in Gush Etzion (a common means of traveling in Israel), when they were picked up by men who turned out to be Palestinian terrorists.  For the next eighteen days, the boys' families and friends waited anxiously for news while the Israeli military worked round the clock to locate the missing children.  During this time, the entire Jewish community--not just in Gush Etzion, not just in Israel, but in the entire world--mobilized to support the boys and their families through whatever means possible, most often prayer or other acts of dedicated religious practice.  Ultimately, though, the boys were found dead; apparently they were murdered by their kidnappers not long after they were abducted.

I arrived in Israel the morning of the funerals.  Needless to say, since then, it has been hard for a day to go by without hearing someone mention the heartrending loss of Eyal, Naftali, and Gil-ad.  It has also been a little bit disconcerting to walk into a country steeped in mourning and grappling with the aftermath of tragedy.  But what has stood out to me most dramatically is the way the community has truly come together to hold and support one another through their individual and collective grief.  Israelis of all stripes have closed ranks around the boys' families, reaching out with prayers and letters of support, knowing that they can do nothing to lessen the families' grief but being compelled to share in it, nonetheless.  The families, in turn, have opened their arms back out to the community by being willing to receive all the energy and love coming at them.  The result is a beautiful, collective holding.

Being held.  How much more elemental does it get, really?  We all need to know that we have people in our lives who will help us bear our emotions, who will get down in the trenches with us and help us weather the storm.  No matter how introverted or independent we believe we are, we still have a basic, profound need to be held--and, I would venture, to be held by people beyond our immediate family members.  We need friends, we need a network--no matter how small--that we can count on to catch us when we begin to crumble to the ground.  When that need goes unacknowledged or unsatisfied, the results can be devastating:  depression, isolation, self-injury, addiction, shame...the list goes on.  Personally, the way I dealt with feeling unheld was by using food rituals and exercise to "hold myself."  When there was no one in my daily life I could go to, I went to the gym instead.  When I had no friends to chase away the loneliness, I filled the void with intricate and much-anticipated eating routines.  It was a valiant effort, but it didn't work.  It turns out, there is no substitute for being held.

A central part of my recovery has been seeking out relationships with people who will hold me, and whom I can hold.  There is nothing more comforting than feeling the warmth of someone's support when I am in a time of need.  As I've watched the people of Israel hold each other the past few weeks, I've become acutely aware of the ways in which this land, and the people in it, hold me, as well.  The sheer natural beauty of this place cradles me when I need an escape from heavy thoughts.  My teachers nurture my spiritual growth; they receive my questions openly and offer guidance and love as I make my way through this world.  And my friends prove to me, over and over again, that I am as important to them as they are to me; that we are here for each other, no matter the distance between us.  Food and exercise can never, ever compete with that.  Being held is the best.

And so, during my time in Israel, I am going to enjoy the experience of being held by this unique and wondrous land I call my second home, and by the radiant, passionate people I call my chosen family. I wish that ALL of us allow ourselves access to the warmth and security of being held.  There truly is nothing better.