I told myself that I would put up a blog every Monday, and yet I am struggling today. Today, I find myself continuing to sit with grief and heartbreak for Tyre Nichols, his family, the Black community, and this country that is so steeped in dehumanization and injustice.
At the same time, I am hearing today about threats, violence, and vandalism at a local Synagogue. This too scares me, and infuriates me, and breaks my heart.
There is a voice in me that tells me to keep going, to keep working, to post about the topic I had planned; it tells me that anything I say about this would be performative, wouldn’t change anything, and isn’t mine to speak on. Surely, there are those that can say it better, do more, know more.
Then there is another voice.
The other voice says to honor what my heart knows. And, my heart knows that the pain and tragedy of senseless violence deserve to be honored, and witnessed, and held.
I think there is a notion that we should either “do something”, or keep it moving. That we have to fix it, solve it, and if we can't, what’s the point of talking about it or feeling it?
As a white person, it can be hard to know how to honor the pain of others and voice outrage without it seeming performative. As a non-religious Jewish person, it can be hard to speak to antisemitism in ways that feel connective, and safe.
Here is what my heart knows:
Honor the pain. Whatever your racial or ethnic identity, allow yourself to feel the grief; to mourn for those impacted, and for humanity. You don’t have to know what to “do” immediately. Let your grief be an offering and a prayer for justice and peace. Let yourself not be okay, if that’s what’s true. Let yourself feel.
Nurture your soul. When there is so much suffering happening personally, in our communities, and globally, it is easy to be drowned by it. And yet, our internal wellbeing and aliveness is what allows us to withstand the storms. Spend time in nature, dance, make art, make love, get yourself some flowers - nurture the light within.
Act locally. When there are these large overwhelming forces of hate and injustice, we can start to feel powerless. And yet, we all have power when we act within our locus of control. Whether it's working with a local group, a donation to an organization, or an honest conversation with a neighbor, acting locally is how we contribute our drop of love towards the collective tide needed to drown the hate.
This certainly isn’t the post I was planning to write, but this is what feels honest and true, and so I trust that it is what I was meant to share today.
I love you all and I send your hearts warmth, healing, and love.
In solidarity,
Irena
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