The last two years have been trying in many ways for many people, and unfortunately, I believe that we’re far from the resolution of the situation that has been the impetus for so many difficulties.

One great concern to me has been the seeming disappearance of civil discourse, the ability to listen to, dialogue with and even to be good friends with someone who has a differing opinion on a significant issue. It hurts my heart to see the widespread fracturing of families and friendships. For many, many years, people could interface with others of different beliefs in a way that is becoming much less common today. Where has the civil discourse gone, and why has it disappeared?

I don’t think this has been a sudden shift. For years, we’ve become increasingly used to communicating with others via a screen, removed from their face, their expressions, their voice. That has made it easier to forget that there’s another live person on the  other side of the screen, a person who can be hurt by what you say.

As we have created more distance between ourselves and others, it’s become increasingly easy to negate others and their opinions. Social media has become an echo chamber, with people seeing news that matches their perspectives. But just as our immune systems are strengthened by exposure to unfamiliar germs, our emotional and social systems are strengthened by exposure to the thought processes and perspectives of others.

The cancel culture has been ramping up in recent years, and more and more positions on various topics have become taboo, something to be mocked and denigrated. Gone is the understanding that respectful communication and different voices are important and healthy for our development as a society and as individuals.

Listen first to understand, then be understood: a key principle that I learned initially from Dr. Stephen Covey that has been an integral part of my understanding of communication. To listen to someone doesn’t mean to listen to his words, readying yourself for a response and debate before he’s finished his sentence. It means opening your heart and mind to truly hear how someone else is feeling. We know our own stories so well, and we want to be heard. It isn’t easy to set aside the desire to speak and convince others of the rightness of our positions, and listen with an open mind to someone else.

With the dramatically accelerated censorship that has become an integral part of our media culture, communicating with others of differing perspectives has become much more challenging. We are shown only one perspective, we are told what is right to believe and told that those who don’t have those same beliefs and practices are a danger to the rest of society. Dialogue and sharing of differing opinions has been shut down. This is particularly alarming since historically, censorship of this sort has always been a preface to institutionalized tyranny.

While the alternative news sources haven’t been completely shut down, those accessing a different perspective from the mainstream narrative are accessing information that the vast majority of people aren’t seeing, and as conversations aren’t based on shared information, conversations become fraught with tensions. As a result, people become increasingly committed to their own perspective and can’t fathom how someone can think any other way.

Whether this has been a natural result of the online social world that so many call home, purposeful media manipulation or something else entirely, we don’t have to let ourselves be led down this road. We reclaim our own humanity when we see the humanity in others, as we respectfully acknowledge the right of others to a differing opinion.

Particularly at this time of so many interpersonal frustrations, it’s incumbent on each of us to be willing to open our minds to respectfully listening to someone who has a different point of view. Sometimes when I’m feeling frustrated after an interaction with someone, or even thinking about perspectives that are disturbing to me, I’ll stop myself and think about why they might respond the way that they did. What causes them to think the way that they did? What paradigm of the world might they be operating from, what kind of life experiences might they have had?

I acknowledge that my life experiences and interpretations of events have led me to the conclusions that I live my life by. Others could have very similar experiences to mine and yet come to the exact opposite conclusions. This isn’t rocket science. It’s basic respect for another human being. But what is simple isn’t necessarily obvious.

Times are changing rapidly and it will be our ability to see the humanity in another, rather than caricature him as a member of a group that you’ve mentally written off, that has the power to reverse the dangerous and polarizing road we’re traveling on as a society.

Avivah

I said I was going to share more about frugality, and I will, but I’ve received a couple of emails with important questions that I want to respond to first. I’ve edited out specifics below, as I think this is a question many people have with their own personal slant.

>>I am so grateful to be out of “emergency” mode but lately I’m finding myself confused about some things in living, maybe it’s just that I’m having a few minutes now to process what happened.  You’ve shared different challenges over the years ….  I feel nervous to think that life can get back to “normal”. I feel like there is no such thing as normal.  Did you ever feel this way? Someone said to me that if we got through this, then we know we could get through anything, that sounded nice but the truth is I really don’t feel like having HaShem raise the bar, I think I’m only realizing now how hard this year was, and maybe a bit more traumatic than I want to admit. While it was happening I just kept putting one step in front of the other and stayed focus on what was needed in the moment to get our family through. I feel that the only sense of inner peace and calm comes with living with bitachon, no matter what life is going to send next.  To know it in our hearts, not just our heads.

Anyways I was just wondering if you could relate to these feelings.  My world definitely expanded ….my husband and I feeling stretched to what seemed impossible limits…. BH it’s good to have some of the intensity subside but I still feel a bit on edge and I’m trying to understand why so that I could move on and live more in alignment with how I think HaShem wants of us. <<

I can relate very, very much to these emotions. When you get used to living in extended crisis mode, it’s not natural to return to regular mode without a conscious adjustment. There’s an inner wariness, a guardedness, fear that something could happen again. Your body, your mind, your hormones are all on alert.

Our first few years of aliyah were one long stretch of ongoing challenge and while in my head I would tell myself it would get better, it was getting better – in my heart I was waiting for when the next shoe would drop.
(See my post here on my conversation with my naturopath seven years ago.)

Sometimes it’s enough to have some time to slow down, breathe deeply, and experience life without the heavy weight of life stressors to shift back into ‘safe’ mode. If this feeling passes within a relatively short time, great. But for me, I became aware I had internalized a certain amount of trauma that kept me from feeling safe even when the threat was removed.

About seven years ago I began my inner exploration of this issue. I slowly recognized that I held on to this thinking because it was my safety net when ironically, it was the barrier blocking me from feeling safe.

I had some beliefs that were subtle but I’ll try to explain it. I was looking at the world as a cosmic measuring scale. Into every life some rain must fall, right? There was a certain amount of suffering that I had to experience. If I let myself enjoy something fully, the ‘good’ side of the scale would be heavier – and that would mean something else negative would have to happen to me to balance it out. If I kept myself from fully enjoying the good, then it wouldn’t be counted as something good, and wouldn’t trigger something bad. Does that make sense? It was self-protective.

I could only fully enjoy the good in my life by learning to let go of the fear that something bad is around the corner. That’s meant internalizing what faith and trust in G-d mean, experiential learning that continues to this day. I say He’s always taking care of me, but do I really feel it?

I also had some anger I pushed down and didn’t want to admit to even to myself, anger at Him for putting me through some of the things I experienced, things that felt off the scale unfair. Yes, I knew I was growing, I knew everything G-d did was for my benefit and ultimate good – but I didn’t feel the love. I finally expressed that anger, which was very hard for me but also very important. It cleared the air in our relationship, so to speak.

For now, be kind to yourself and recognize that you’ve experienced a huge trauma, and it’s going to take time to let go of that tension that you’ve been holding in without realizing it. Get as much sleep as you can. Lots of relaxing music, time outdoors, meditation, and positive affirmations were – and continue to be – very helpful to me.

Avivah

Long ago I read a thought provoking article by Lt. Dave Grossman, In the article he defines three groups in society: sheep, sheepdogs, and wolves.

The sheep are the kind, good people who don’t want to think anything bad will happen, and take no actions to protect themselves from that possibility. (This term is not used as a pejorative.) The wolves are obviously the bad guys who prey on others. The focus of the article is on the sheepdogs – the good guys who have the capacity to confront and resist evil.

In the context this was written, I fall well into the sheep category – depending on the good guys to physically defend me in a bad situation. But I’ve been thinking a lot about this analogy lately, since it goes further than readiness to respond to physical threats.

When a physical crime is enacted, it’s clear that evil is taking place. But there are other dangers that aren’t visible even when they are happening in front of our eyes.

Sheepdogs have the ability to recognize the danger long before others, and their task is to protect the flock. They write articles, speak out, hold rallies, and warn others about the dangers with the intention to help others protect themselves.

We need the sheepdogs, the people who will stand in the uncomfortable space of recognizing threats (dangers that the ‘sheep’ prefer to think don’t exist) and taking steps to neutralize those dangers to the rest of the population.

Since last winter, our sheepdogs have increasingly have been censored, silenced and deplatformed. And who are left? The wolves and those who think everything the wolves do is for their benefit. ***

Many months ago the media adroitly took steps to promote a narrative that would divide and polarize the population, defining anyone who questions their narrative as selfish, paranoid, conspiracy theorists. Since the vast majority of us are good, kind people who care about our fellows and want to get along with them, we went along with that. We distanced ourselves from being defined as part of that undesirable population.

Rather than question the narrative ourselves, we turned on the those who are trying to alert us – for our own protection – that excessive government control was dangerous to our freedoms. It’s so much easier to live in denial than to confront evil, and it’s easier to turn on the sheepdogs than on the wolves. The great irony is that by turning against those who are protecting us, we leave ourselves wide open to harm by the wolves.

Truth and the defense of truth is very important to me. In this context, that makes me a sheepdog. For a sheepdog to act like a sheep is deeply distressing, and I’ve been living with an acute sense of conflict for months as I continually hold back. I want you to be aware of what is happening, so you consciously make choices that will best serve you, and so you can prepare for the challenges that are coming. Not because it gives me the jollies to alarm anyone, but to keep your family safe.

You may be asking yourself, is she talking about the jabberwocky? Yes, in part, but it’s much bigger than that.

My lifeblood is to educate and empower others, so you can live your best lives. I predicted the current censorship, which has been extraordinarily successful – and most of the population has no idea how extensive the censorship is, because you can’t hear those who are silenced – and I believe we’re going to see increasing censorship: of holistic health, nutrition, education, economics, etc. All the things I write about that are still acceptable to talk about now, which preemptively I am reluctant to continue to write about. Dissension and even independent thought are not going to be tolerated.

In my final expressive arts class, we were asked to decorate a slice of a circle that defined each of us, and then the slices were connected to make a whole.

When we were asked to share about my painting, I didn’t want to speak, since it was so emotional and conflicting for me. My core essence is to outflow in all directions, to share with and impact others, and it’s painful to me that sharing with others about anything that isn’t superficial feels unsafe.

None of us can or should repress our core selves. It’s not fair to me, but it’s also not fair to you. I don’t know how to navigate this new world that is going insane. I may change some of my wording or in some cases, you may have to read between the lines of what I write and extrapolate. Or I may choose not write. Sometimes it takes so much emotional energy to think about writing that I’m left too tired to actually write. But I’m going to try.

Avivah

***Edited to clarify: I am not referring to the average person or lay advocate who takes a different position than myself as ‘wolves’. I absolutely abhor the demonization of people on either side of the aisle. My reference is to much broader forces.

I’m not an art person – it’s just not something that I ever explored beyond coloring. No, I’m really not exaggerating when I say that. Crayons, markers and coloring pages are literally the point when my artistic efforts ended.

When I saw a notice about an expressive arts class forming earlier in the year, I thought it sounded interesting. I liked the idea of learning something new. I had no idea that it would become the powerful experience that it’s been.

We’re a small group of six women, with two arts therapists facilitating the group. The two hour session begins with a short relaxation exercise, and then we’re encouraged to seek out the materials that reflect how we’re feeling at that moment. After an hour of creating, each woman writes in her journal, answering the questions provided that are meant to stimulate awareness of the internal process. After that, each woman shares about her work and her answers to the questions with the group.

Since every other woman there has an art background, this was initially an intimidating experience for me. I felt so inadequate – like a preschooler in a college classroom. I had no experience with any of the artistic mediums, and didn’t know how to use the various materials.

When I was seventeen, I learned about perfectionism, realized it was a trait that I had, and recognized that it wasn’t something I wanted to hold onto. For the last thirty years, I’ve consciously been releasing that tendency to want things to be the way that I want them, to let things be enough as they are, and not to compete or compare with others.

This has been a huge part of my personal development and a significant, defining feature of my parenting and what I teach others about parenting. And this tendency was hugely challenged by my participation in this group.

It wasn’t easy for me to sit with myself and quiet the peanut gallery in my own head as I worked – I had such intense feelings of frustration and inadequacy in the beginning. To create and and then have to display my work to others who are much, much more advanced, when I hardly knew how to use the paints or brushes… it was very hard for me to be so bad at something they were all so good at.

But each week something shifted as I painted or drew, as I focused on how I was feeling and my only goal was to capture that. It stopped mattering to me if anyone else thought it looked good or not, and it stopped mattering to me if it looked good or not. Instead, I found that I was enjoying the process of putting my feelings onto the paper in art form as it helped me get in touch with subtle emotions.

For example, when my son was dating, almost all of the suggestions were of young women from very mainstream homes, which in many ways was perfect for him. A quality that our family has, and that I’ve seen in every one of my children’s spouses, is an interest in others, an openmindedness and ability to think for oneself. In the case of the suggestions being made, I had hesitations about agreeing to most of them because I didn’t see this quality. I wasn’t sure if I was imposing my preferences or if it was something important for him, albeit something he wasn’t consciously looking for. In this painting, I explored my feelings about that – every color, every stroke, every shape has meaning and is representative of something significant.

Several times in the early weeks of the group I shared my feelings of inadequacy and self-consciousness with the group leader, and she told me that I had an advantage over the other women, precisely because I had no art background. I couldn’t understand what she meant, and thought she was trying to make me feel good.

Several months in, I head another woman expressing frustration that the limited time allotted didn’t allow her to create something satisfactory. I shared with her my experience of creating just for the pleasure of it, for the expression of it – and her response showed me the challenge for someone who knows so much being able to let go and enjoy the expressive process.

She couldn’t release her expectation of herself and what her art should look like. And I realized that not only could I do that in the art class, but it extended into a different area when faced with something similarly new and intimidating – I just did it, didn’t worry what anyone else was thinking, and enjoyed it.

It’s been really interesting to ask myself, how do I feel today and what medium do I want to use to express that? What colors, what textures, what movement reflects that?

It’s been surprising for me as someone with a high level of self-awareness, that using art as a medium deepened my connection with my own emotions. I can really see how powerful it can be to use art as a therapeutic tool, having experienced some benefits even in a non-therapeutic setting.

Avivah