Finding Home in the Midst of War

June 16 – After so many visits to the safe room over the past few days, I’ve completely lost count. We are safe so far, yet the danger is real. 13 people have died in Israel so far from this war, and none were in safe rooms. So, I’m absolutely committed to following instructions when the sirens go off, no matter what time of day or how many times I’ve already been there.

And each time I go, I’m moved to tears by scenes of people caring for their families, their children, and for strangers like me. A hand on my back guiding me into the room. A kind gaze and voice asking “Are you okay?” A friendly conversation. A woman reading from a prayerbook.

As I was preparing to come to Israel for the trauma mission, my therapist told me that Israelis are the real experts in trauma healing. I’m beginning to understand what she meant. I know a good deal about the neurobiology and psychophysiology involved in trauma healing, and have studied, practiced, and taught it for years. But what I’ve missed—and what I’m now being exposed to, absorbing, and soaking in here in Israel—is the direct, visceral experience of belonging. That level of human connection activates the social engagement system, and awakens a felt sense of safety that no amount of theory can replace. It forms the deepest foundation for healing. I’ve understood this cognitively, and do my best to embody it, but without having experienced it as a regular baseline in my actual experience, it’s challenging to impart. Israeli society, as I’ve encountered it so far, feels woven through with belonging—with the sense of being part of a shared fabric. That’s one of the profound gifts of being here. The feeling of coming home is so immediate and palpable. I’ve heard others speak about this so many times, and now it really makes sense.

On Saturday, I walked to the Kotel, but it was closed. Still, I cherished the utter peace and quiet here in Jerusalem on Shabbat, on a day when the government has banned gatherings, educational events, and non-essential activities. Nonetheless, I saw two or three synagogues holding services and men emerging from them dressed in their black finery (some with gorgeous silk jacquard coats and large shtreimel hats in the 85-degree heat). The city feels very sane and orderly, at least in the neighborhoods I walked through. I love the feeling of it.

Making my way back, it was very warm, though a cool breeze was still available in the shade. I saw a lovely woman sitting on a bus bench. She looked interesting and a bit lonely or alone. I asked if she minded if I sat on the bench with her for a while to cool off. She said it was fine, and she had a beautiful accent. I asked where she was from, and she said Uganda. Her father was a fanatic Muslim who completely turned her off religion. She lived in New York for 30 years and worked at the UN on forestry conservation. When her marriage ended, she found herself in a spiritual crisis, and began searching for a path. She explored Islam again, but it did not resonate, and then Christianity, Buddhism, and Hinduism. One day a friend invited her to a Shabbat service, and she was profoundly moved when she saw people’s reactions to the Torah being removed from the ark. For some reason, it really felt meaningful to her. She just had a sense of coming home that was so strong. She converted to Judaism. Two years ago she made aliyah, and has never been happier. She loves Jerusalem; she goes to a synagogue in an English-speaking area of the city, has plenty of friends, and feels a deep spiritual peace. Her family thinks she is crazy, but she knows she is the same person she has always been. She was laughing about how her brother tells her that she was already a black woman, and then she had to go and become Jewish, and then Israeli! I really enjoyed her soft energy, kindness, and intelligence, as well as her courage and devotion.

I sat by the pool at my hotel for a while. It was so nice in the shade. I overheard a man say how impressed he was with the cohesion of Israeli society, and how there is meaning and purpose here that he doesn’t feel at home. He said people in the US are just focusing on their own self-improvement.

On Sunday, I saw that missiles struck Rehovot, where my airport driver Gil lives. This is where he had invited me to stay with his family. I checked in with him and he wrote:

“We are all fine,

There is some damage to the building and our apartment….

I believe it will be repaired in the coming days.

Thanks for your interest and I hope for more peaceful days. Gil”

And when I told him I was sorry, but glad he was safe, he wrote:

“Thank you very much! You are truly a hero! And you are most welcome here in Israel!”

The situation here is beginning to feel a bit like COVID. Non-essential services and stores are supposed to be closed, and non-essential personnel are supposed to stay home. Our trauma mission hopes to meet with many of the speakers planned on our itinerary over the coming days via Zoom; about half of us managed to arrive in Israel before the shutdowns began. We’re all meeting up in Jerusalem tomorrow; it will be wonderful to see them.

This morning we got word, most unfortunately, that the Shalom Hartman Community Leadership Program, which several friends from my mission and synagogue were planning to attend, has been cancelled!

Yesterday in the safe room I met a wonderful young man who served in the IDF for three years and is now in the reserves. He expects to be called up again soon. He is from the north, near Lebanon, but is living in Jerusalem to attend college; he’s working on his master’s in computer science. He’s interested in cryptography, which he says combines his love of math with his love of computer science. He had a beautifully sensitive soul and face, very feeling and deep and open. I asked him all kinds of questions, and he had a few for me too. Most poignantly, why do American Jews not feel connected to Israel? We talked about that for quite a while, and also about the American Jews who DO feel connected to Israel!

When he served in the IDF, he was also working on his bachelor’s degree. He would go to school for two weeks, and then he would serve for two weeks. He said it really stretched him to inhabit these two completely different mindsets, and to be with people who were so similar to him (at school), and then so different from him (in the IDF, where he would regularly encounter CEOs, entrepreneurs, and those from many other professions).

At the beginning of the war, he was stationed in the north. He was very frightened because he often had to encounter the enemy. Later, as Hezbollah was increasingly eliminated, his duties switched more to patrol.

He said not everyone is fit and strong when they go into the IDF, but they train gradually and get strong, and when they get out, they continue training because it has become part of their lifestyle. He said that’s why you don’t see many obese Israelis.

I asked if he thought Jerusalem would be more spared from bombing due to the Muslim’s third holiest site (Al Aqsa Mosque) being here, and he said no, not at all. He said his IDF commander taught him to understand that those who want us dead are not thinking in the same way we are. He learned not to try to understand their needs or wishes, because they don’t share our logic or values. He said it with sadness, not judgment.

When I mentioned that the Western Wall was closed, he said that was because it would be impossible to bring so many people to shelter right away if necessary, since the area is usually completely packed. People would get injured in the stampede to reach safety. That’s how most injuries occur; from running and tripping rather than being hit by a bomb.

I showed him an item from my X feed that said Israel had invited the US to help them in the campaign against Iran, and that the US said no. I was frustrated about that, but he said, “I think this is good. We don’t want a wider war where Russia and China get drawn in.”

We talked about the four Arab Israelis that had been killed in Haifa from the Iranian strike targeting the oil refinery there. They apparently did not have shelters, and he said that Israel wants to build them in these areas, but the Arabs refuse because they don’t want anything that Israel provides. Again, he said, don’t try to understand their logic. It’s different from ours.