Last night, I was invited to dinner at a friend. She had recently recovered from emergency surgery and wanted to express gratitude for how the events had unfolded and for the love and support she received from her friends. She said a few words and ended with this sentiment, “I feel I’m the luckiest woman alive, to be surrounded with so much love in my world.”
Those words struck me.
What would it take for each of us to feel that we are the luckiest person alive?
Feeling loved, supported, and cared for when we’re going through a challenging time, makes all the difference. To know that you’re not alone and that the people who love you will step up and show you how much they care about you, helps us get through. It was a beautiful evening, curated purely for the purpose of showing gratitude for what life and friendship has to offer.
At this same dinner, one of the guests arrived with a sticker on her shirt, with the number 115 written on it. I asked about it, thinking that maybe she had attended a workshop earlier in the day and had forgotten to remove the sticker.
Her answer piqued my interest. Every morning when she gets dressed, she puts on a sticker, showing the number of days Israeli hostages have been in captivity since October 7th. This is a daily reminder that there are still 136 people who cannot carry on with their lives, people who’ve been in limbo for (now) 115 days! People who are injured, tortured, starved, kept in dark tunnels and constantly threatened.
Every day this number grows. Today is actually 116.
By the time you read this, it may be more. Wearing a sticker keeps the conversation and awareness alive. Every day people ask her about her sticker and every day she keeps the plight of the hostages alive for herself and for others.
And as we near 4 months since the start of the war – an unthinkable amount of time – more stories are revealed from hostages that were released about the pain they endured in captivity, about the hostages that are still there, many injured and possibly dead. I keep thinking of the families whose lives came to an abrupt stop 115 days ago, when their loved ones were taken.
Right now, it seems that there’s no end in sight. Every day is spent at attempted negotiations with a terrorist group who have no interest other than to make Jewish people suffer. They understand the value Jewish people place on life and take glee in pushing us to the limit. The last offer made by Israel that was rejected – an offer to swop more than 100 prisoners, with blood on their hands, for each hostage (dead or alive) and a ceasefire for 45 days. Apparently, that’s not good enough. And our hostages are still there. And we’re still counting the days.
Yesterday, 11 rockets were fired into Tel Aviv. I was attending a meeting with a group of colleagues and all of a sudden, half the group disappeared from their Zoom window and went into safe rooms. I felt the booms of iron dome interceptions, 35 kms away.
Last week was a tough week in my city, Raanana. Two terrorists rammed their car into a bus stop injuring the people waiting. They then abandoned their car, ran down the street wielding a knife to find another car for a second ramming. They hijacked an elderly lady, 74, stabbed her to death, stole her car, and then drove to ram the next bus stop. This stop was right outside a school where kids were waiting for a bus to take them home at the end of their day. All in all, 19 people were injured. One 15-year-old boy is still in critical condition, prognosis unknown.
That same week, 24 soldiers were killed in action in one day, entering a booby trapped building.
The devastation and losses are often too much to bear. In the midst of all this, we still need to keep going. We need to keep our businesses running. We need to feel normal in a world that is anything but normal. And we do it, to the best of our abilities.
For me, work has been a blessing. I’m grateful to be able to continue working, helping people discover their true north and how they can overcome obstacles on the way, even when there’s a war raging and stress levels and anxiety levels are at an all-time high.
It helps me infuse meaning into my day even when it’s hard, even when every day is like a rollercoaster because I don’t know what will happen that day and what emotions will come up.
Some days, I feel good. I feel like there’s hope. I feel the support for Israel from around the world.
And some days, I’m struck by the hatred that abounds. I find it hard to see that there are people are out there who want to kill me, who want to see me and my family cease to exist because we are Jewish and because that somehow offends them.
I watched a video of a couple leaving their synagogue in New York on a Saturday morning, only to be attacked by a mob screaming at them, “war criminals” and other profanities.
Really? A Jewish couple in New York are war criminals just because they’re Jewish?
And then there’s the feeling of being let down by so many organisations that are supposed to be a-political, standing up for human rights and calling out discriminatory behaviours without bias. These groups have remained silent, going against their own values because the people affected are Jewish and somehow that doesn’t count. We have a hashtag for it now: #metoounlessurajew
For the entire 115 days of captivity so far, the Red Cross has not visited the hostages or attempted to receive any information about their wellbeing, citing that they don’t have access to Hamas. Yet, in the hostage release process that happened 2 months ago, they managed to make contact and be involved in the handover. After more than 3 months, they agreed to try hand over medical supplies for the hostages. The boxes were delivered to the Red Cross but the transfer to Hamas never happened.
The UN Women’s council, the #Metoo movement, and activists for women’s rights have remained silent in the face of evidence of many rapes of Israeli women on the 7th October. The UN Women’s Council hurried to release a report, two weeks after the massacre, about the ‘mistreatment’ of Gazan women and children by the IDF. This report conveniently omitted to mention their absolute neglect by Hamas over this period and before, and even worse, using them as human shields in many cases, and preventing their evacuation to safer areas.
Where is UNICEF, who’s supposed to look out for the welfare of all children in war situations, regardless of race, gender or religion? Another silent body when it comes to the Israeli children who’ve suffered torture, abuse, evacuation and worse.
And a small word about South Africa, who can’t and won’t care for their own citizens who are suffering daily – rape, murder, hunger, lack of basic facilities like electricity and running water in many areas – but make it a top priority to take Israel to the ICJ with ridiculous claims of Genocide.
So for me, it is now 3am and I can’t sleep. These are the thoughts that occupy my mind. Some nights, I’m able to quiet them and go to sleep, and some nights they rise up and make themselves known. I try to meditate, do a body scan, take deep breaths… But tonight, none of the techniques help. So I get up and spill my thoughts and feelings onto paper, hoping to process them so I can get back to sleep.
I know many of you have been following my writing. You’ve written to me to say that you appreciate the personal perspective. Thank you for reading and being part of my journey.
I have some good news to share too. Our son, Idan, has been temporarily released from reserve duty. He’s home and back to student life, hoping to complete his final year of studies in Engineering. I can’t imagine the strength it takes to make this bizarre shift from war to ‘regular’ life and focus on studies, but he’s taking it in his stride and is happy to be home with his family, getting to a semblance of ‘normal.’
And we are truly grateful for that, because many families are not in this fortunate position. We take our moments of gratitude, our blessings and hold on to them because they do exist and they help us get through.
I’m grateful for my family being safe and whole.
I’m grateful for my work, which brings me joy and a sense of purpose and meaning.
I’m grateful for my clients, who have been super supportive and caring, constantly enquiring how we are.
I’m grateful for people I know and those I haven’t met, that reach out to tell me my writing is helping them.
I’m grateful for my faith and belief that truth and justice, peace and safety will ultimately prevail.
I’m grateful for non-Jewish journalists, influencers and friends, who are able to see through smoke screens and give their support.
I’m grateful that I can offer my support and use my skills to help others take leadership and find joy, meaning and purpose in their life.
Let’s remember:
“There’s a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.”
– Leonard Cohen
In conclusion, I invite you to reach out. Share with me how my writing is impacting you, regardless of where you are in the world or what you’re going through. We each have our own stories.
I’d love to know how I can help you because that helps me too!
With love
Am Yisrael Chai
Daphna Horowitz, Raanana
[email protected]
