by Luba Palter, MFT

What I wanted to write about in December was my love of the New Year’s Eve celebration as an ex-Soviet, as well as my complicated individuation journey with this holiday. This seems impossible now with the war in the Middle East. Nothing seems relevant, important, or as salient in my mind as the current iteration of this tragedy.

I’ve written and rewritten this post in my head and on paper several times. At other times, I almost gave up writing altogether. As an ex-Soviet Jew, a therapist who is committed to social justice for all, and an Editor-in-Chief of Impulse, I don’t know how to have this conversation honestly and openly in public while I’m still processing, grieving, and paying attention as the events unfold.

In my vehicle at an intersection, I watch cars turn to the left in a slow procession, obeying traffic laws. I take a deep breath in as I watch humanity cooperating, silently agreeing to follow traffic rules. At this moment, on this road, humans are not murdering and destroying each other.

To speak of one side of this war is to be injurious to the other side. To speak of this dilemma is to speak of privilege. But here is what I am asking myself to do: how do I hold space for the humanity of both Israelis and Palestinians? How do I hold the grief, the rage, and the traumas on both sides? How do I hold that both groups have endured tragedies and injustices? But why does it feel that to hold both is to neutralize the traumas of one side or the other?

Bion’s container model illustrates that patients need the analyst to absorb unbearable states to make them more digestible to think and feel without splitting. Who will help the analyst when so many in our community are deeply affected and traumatized?

Wherever you are on this spectrum of sorrow and horror, I wish you peace and community.