(62) a year like no other
at sundown of october 2nd we transitioned from year 5784 to 5785 in the jewish calendar.
and this monday marked 366 days — a year in the civil calendar — from october 7th, 2023.
i have reflected at lenght on what that means. i could go on and on about the devastating and growing death toll of +42k innocent palestinian (and now lebanese) lives, almost 15 thousand children, the blood on the grave of 1200 massacred israelis just last year, the enduring bondage of the remaining hostages whose fates we are yet to know. the suspended lives of 2 million people in gaza, trapped between hell and death.
the suspended lives of 15 million israelis who are forced to keep on marching whilst their government does unspeakable things, in their names. jews who realized they are not privileged and will always be othered — how many times did we hear, this year, that h*tler should have finished the job? and how muslim and arabs faced the bluntest blade of islamophobia since 9/11, and had millions of people praying for the razing and deaths of entire peoples and nations.
how the general public tallies these things: the horror olympics of oppression, and suffering and grief, and decides where to set the bar, when points start accruing for the final result.
i could tell you of how the world changed at large, both in terms of geopolitics, the enlarging abyss between the public sensibilities and world leaders’ responses, and in terms of personal safe spaces, which have all significantly shrunk.
and also how in civil society the liberal and progressive rooms i once inhabited no longer feel safe for people with jewish identities like mine; and how conservative spaces are now less safe than ever for muslim/arab identities. how this year has been a year of being othered.
as jew-adjacent person, i can tell you how it is to hear the reports of the terror attacks of october 7th, how they resonated eerily like flashbacks to the shoah: the books and oral accounts we grew up on, repeating themselves in our time. never again, for anyone? and as a mother, i can tell you how in every little face buried under the rubble, their little body torn in shreds, i see my daughter’s. and holding her at night, warm, heavenly scented, her living weight pressing against my body, i get smacked between the reality of other women who saw their children burned alive by terrorists, before being r***d and m*****d themselves; of parents who gathered children ripped apart by bombs, limb by limb, piece by piece, to lay them down. and both these pains are true.
and yet, i could tell you how at the same time what a remarkable year it has been for growing a common conscience over the ongoing and decades-long palestinian oppression, (that didn’t start in the 1940s either), and empathy with their pain and plight. (and how that feels like a small, burning, costly victory, searing through the hearts of jews who had long before been advocates for peace and conciliation, but now see that the world would only be satisfied if the reparation is at the expense of their total obliteration.) i understand, like i wish i never did, why the word holocaust was chosen for the genocide of jews.
and i could also tell you of how never before at a global, and not just national scale, we have seen in live daily increments the distortions and perversions of social media and algorithm engagement, contributing to the polarization and radicalization of speech on both ends.
but you have read this already, and specialists have spoken of this at length. and i am sure that unless you are yourself a collateral victim of this ongoing horror, you are probably fed up with this conversation. so this isn’t for you.
this has been a year where most non-affiliated people have felt themselves empowered to tell victimized groups how they should feel. how they should behave. where it remained clear just how confident people are in expressing illiterate beliefs for the sake of likes and vacuous social praise.
this has been a year of complexity; strengthening bridges and finding alliance between natural opponents, of losing trust, of losing friends, of rekindling relationships and putting a lid on other ones, a year of finding community and leaning into identity, a year of redefining boundaries, a year of mourning and grief, a year of rage, a year of solidarity, a year of transcendence, a year of sacrifice, a year of pain and a year of love.
all years are a bit like that, but because of october 7th, this one felt especially lonely, and especially shared, at the same time. this was a year like no other.
last year, at this time, we were bracing and dreading in anticipation of israel’s deadly response. and this year, 370 days into genocidal war, deeper and deeper in the ongoing retaliation, we are bracing for the escalation of the conflict, which now is being fought on five fronts.
last year, i was praying for the safety of n, who is now BH back in the us, and relishing on the comparative safety of our friends in tel aviv. this year, i am dreading that p is going to the hot zones of the displaced persons camps in lebanon, (especially knowing how humanitarian staff have been targeted in this conflict); and i am not all too sure about the comparative safety of anyone in the middle east. this prayer stays the same: i light candles for the safety of all peoples in the region, especially children, the deliverance of hostages, and the survival and safety of my ancestral homeland.
and still, paradoxically, fall in our house is a time of celebration. already made hectic with wonderful and meaningful dates to be celebrated (my sister m’s birthday, my mother’s birthday, j’s birthday, a’s birthday, my father in law’s birthday, my birthday), they were adorned brightly by the high holidays which we started celebrating in 2020-2021: rosh hashanah, yom kippur, simchat torah, sukkot… and ending with friendsgiving. with most of these festivities being typically hosted by us. ever since our annus horribilis of 2017-18, and especially since last year, celebrating the good times, as well as marking the bad ones, seems particularly poignant.
last year we gave it our all. amid bewilderment, mourning, confusion, we decided to open our doors to receive the outpouring of love and generosity of our close friends. and this year, although because of personal circumstances (don’t get me started on the accumulation of small plagues and little disasters that have befallen our household, personal issues, and the financial strain we are weathering, or the impending deadlines and big landmarks that are approaching), it feels only right to do the same thing. get a bit of that british stoicism and carry on. because what else can we do? the most revolutionary act is to keep on living.
this little break i am having from “real” life, from most of my (paid) work, from social media, from social events, from relaxation, from teaching, and most instances of public life, is almost at the end. my thesis is clocking at almost 400 pages, and i am due submitting it to the supervisor on the 21st of this month. and i will be back with a vengeance, depleted from the intellectual rigors of this work i have been deeply engaged in for years (and with total commitment for the past few months), but replenished from the separation, the solemnity, the seclusion i have experienced and gave myself to entirely.
and even if i loathe that so much of my identity is a trauma response (both in the collective sense of identity, underscored by the events of the past year, as well as in the most personal and intimate aspects, shaped by losses, mental illness, anxiety and post-traumatic stress), that’s just something i’ve got to make peace with. because other than dying, no one can escape themselves or their circumstance. and i want to live.
BzH, may 5785 be the year where i gain, grow, and settle into a new life, in many more ways than one.
for the coming year, i wish: that all of you have safety and peace; mental, physical, and spiritual wellbeing; parnassah (ability to sustain yourself; and the belief in the provision of your needs); that you find love, and joy, and the strength to build a happier future.
that we may all be ever committed to repairing the world, through charity, activism, actions, words, thoughts, and heartfelt prayers.
and that these things that we wish for ourselves are not at the sake of the safety, peace, wellbeing, or joy of others; that we may be rid of scarcity mindset, clear the world from all human-made violence; and lean in to the abundance of creation, and finding G-d in the communal, in fraternity, in the empathy, and the generosity of other persons.
f.