It’s not business as usual. It’s really freaking hard right now.

I've started this post dozens of times and can't seem to find the right words. I told myself I'd do a video. But now I've lost my voice.

Literally. I'm super hoarse right now. 

Maybe it's from a cold that I got from my toddler. Maybe it's my body struggling with expression.

I've been in grief, horror, and reverberating with intergenerational trauma in response to the Hamas terrorist attack on Israel. 

The celebration and justification of terror has been disorienting for me. It leaves me speechless and saddened. It's personal.

I am Jewish. My family was affected by the Holocaust. Some were displaced, some were killed, some were occupied, they were all traumatized. I have family in Israel.

It's tragic for me to see support for Hamas, a terrorist organization, and to see acts of anti-semitism and Islamophobia around the world - even in my own state.

It's also tragic for me to see the continual suffering of the innocent Palestinian families. 

It's a lot.

When the world feels like it's falling apart, but business goes on as usual, it can feel lonely.

It's also awkward. 

Today I cried on a call with my publisher’s marketing associate. Last week, I cried when I spoke to my assistant.

I've found myself going in circles, wanting to do something. Feeling helpless. Getting hopeless. Do I offer a webinar? On what? Do I gather people in my home? It's hard to just do your work and go on as if things are normal. 

I'm not ready and I don't think anyone in the midst of this trauma is ready to take on the work of healing. We're still in it.

The one thing that’s helped me cope (and could be the answer to so much) is togetherness.

If you've attended any of my talks recently, you know that I love the study led by Simone Schnall where she asked two groups of people to stand at the base of a hill and to estimate the steepness of its slope. One group had a friend by their side while another stood alone. The group with social support saw the hill as less steep than the group without it. She then repeated the experiment asking two groups to stand alone at the base of the hill, with one of them just imagining a friend by their side. She saw the same effect. Just the sense of being together (even mentally) was enough to influence their estimates - they also saw the hill as less steep than people who did not imagine a friend by their side.

Our perception of the world and its challenges shifts when we're together. It feels just a little easier, even if by a few degrees. 

My invitation to you is to remain gentle and together.

What does that look like?

Turn to the person near you. Reach out to the people you know, especially any Jewish or Palestinian people, anyone who has family in the region, anyone who lives near a site that’s been targeted by anti-semitic action or hate.

Check-in.
"Hi...there's a lot going on in the world. I just wanted to check in and see how you're doing?"

Listen with full presence and non judgment. Don't add your opinion, news, or thoughts. (Easier said than done, but it's the least we can do for each other). When there's a pause, if you're up to it, say:
"Tell me more."

Listen again with full presence and non-judgment.
“Thank you for sharing with me. I had no idea.”

If you're up for it, ask:
"Is there anything I can do?"

It's enough to just show up and listen.
Allowing people to share - without adding to it or shifting the topic - supports them. Your deep presence is a gift. It helps them metabolize their feelings and process what they are experiencing. The both of you will feel better together and the mountain ahead will feel just a little less steep. 

I'll end with some loving kindness to you, to yours, to all those suffering:

May you be safe
May you be healthy
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May you be peaceful
May you be free to be yourself
May you know how loved you are

With deep gratitude for being together with you,

Stella