The Blogs: Being In-between

I am in-between
writing poetry and writing bills.
I am in-between
painting and praying.

My hands, right and left,
Are in midair.
Do they go together,
As to pray?
Or to reach out,
Or to strike,
Or to hug?

My hand is in midair,
It is in a momentary pause.
Do I turn off the news?
Do I stop scrolling?
Do I tune into the Zoom?
Do I look up at the moon?

My thoughts are intermingling,
Intertwining.
What is happening here,
What is going on over there,
Where will this strike?

My head is in my two hands,
Daring to ask,
Does this matter to me?
What difference does this make to my life in the hills?
Because I am in-between.
I am in-between.
Is this how it is to be between a rock and a hard place?

I am in-between.
Hope—a name, a person, a noun, me;
Hope—a feeling to keep going onwards, an action, a verb;
Hope—a place, a location, a noun.
Hope—Ayelet, my Hebrew name;

Ayelet, a connection to my lineage, to the grandpa I never met, to Louis, Elijah, Eliyahu.

A connection to the Prophet, the one of Hope for whom we open our doors, the one whom we welcome during Pesach (Passover).

I am in-between.
I am wondering.
Will these feelings pass over?
Will this lift,
Will a rainbow emerge?
As a hand opens,
As fingers slowly unfurl,
Will the tefillin* emerge as a dove?
A dove,
A symbol,
A four-letter word,
Hope,
A four-letter word,
And more?

In-between,
From what does one ween?
Tears or fears,
Sneers or cheers,
To move
To be still,
Between you and me,
You and I
Us,
Miles,
Oceans,
Streams,
And memes,
Ah,
Smiles.

I am the in-between
The emotions,
The human,
To have thoughts
Of a place
Of a time
To hope
To be.
And I am an action,
I am sharing and sending,
This breath.
For it is for you,
To be,

Therefore,
To hope,
As I am.

*Tefillin: small black leather boxes that contain scrolls of parchment inscribed with verses from the Torah, which are worn during morning prayer to affirm devotion to God and the Jewish faith.

I, Hope Blecher Croney, aka Ayelet Sarah, began writing this poem on June 16, 2025, following a Zoom debriefing about Israel’s June 13 launching of Operation Rising Lion, targeting Iranian nuclear and military sites. I completed this poem on June 22, 2025, when President Trump ordered US military strikes on Iran’s nuclear facilities.

I am in-between Hope and Ayelet. I am in-between exploring the ritual of wrapping tefillin and taking on the responsibility of wrapping tefillin. I am in-between tuning out the news and making donations to the various organizations like Hadassah that have sent emails and letters and called me.

In-betweenness is not synonymous with the concepts of “either/or.” It is a space to pause, to consider, to make decisions.

That is where I am. Where are you? For one thing, you are here, within a space where you are reading this post. It is a space you chose, so if you need to cry, do it. If you need to sneer, do it. If you need to stamp your feet, do it. But also, like Hadassah’s founder Henrietta Szold, speak up and take action.

Hadassah has people who are doing that through councils, chapters and advocacy spaces. I encourage you to do what feels right to you and for you. These are tumultuous times. People such as ourselves and those around the world are taking stock of themselves and checking in on others near and far. Embrace that check in.

—

Hope is a member of the Hadassah Writers’ Circle, a dynamic and diverse writing group for leaders and members to express their thoughts and feelings about all the things Hadassah does to make the world a better place. It’s where they celebrate their personal Hadassah journeys and share their Jewish values, family traditions and interpretations of Jewish texts. Since 2019, the Hadassah Writers’ Circle has published nearly 650 columns in The Times of Israel Blogs and other Jewish media outlets. Interested? Please contact hwc@hadassah.org.