I’m not one to express feelings in public. And I’m not one to leap onto passing trends like water rushing down a shower drain, pulling everyone with it. Even when that water is the compiled tears of a nation that doesn’t really have a clue how to react to indecipherable strikes of evil on its most innocent and vulnerable.
As a marketer, I spend much time on LinkedIn, and since October 7, I’ve watched the various storms of solidarity and outrage arise and recede without ever saying a single thing. The flurry of posts about how everyone was against us, about the various hostages and their families, the funerals, the politics, and the murders all made a strange feeling arise in my throat.
“I don’t like these posts”. “ This is all fake.” “You’re all liars seeking attention and likes on the internet through the suffering of Jews.” “I don’t want to hear about this. Get back to business.”
At first, I told myself that I was righteously opposing the trivialising and cheapening of this sacred pain by splashing it all over the digital universe and accepting likes in return with glee. And that’s probably what many were actually doing. But the problem with that self-serving theory was that I wasn’t grieving in private nor praying for the hostages nor thinking about them at all aside from the headlines that addicted me.
What’s wrong with me?
I’m a decent human with feelings, I laugh with, hear, and support every Israeli fundraiser who comes to my door and tells me they remember my warmth from last year. I have beautiful little kids and a wonderful wife who are the focus of most of my life. I sing them to sleep with guitar at night. Am I a closet psychopath?
I knew the answer, although I didn’t admit it to myself.
And I still despise every post I see. You know why? Because I know that if I ever allow any shadow of the pain to enter my heart, I’ll be done for. I need to stop it at all costs. Even if that means I’ll be temporarily as emotionally blunt as the black end of a firewood log.
After the events of October 7, I responded to the profusion of “pain” posts with a desire to get back to business as this was a business platform. People were pretty angry at that. Some agreed with me. But all I was doing was asking them to stop making me feel things I couldn’t handle.
And I still am afraid to see the great pain – and love – I know the heart holds.
