Walking the path of peace

Photo by Levi Meir Clancy on Unsplash

Even though I’m not Jewish, I’ve spent the majority of my adult life in Jewish communities. Penn, where I went to undergrad, was 35% Jewish at the time. I attended my first Shabbat dinners there and learned about Jewish culture, traditions, and holidays.

New York theater, where I started my career, has a large Jewish community. I lived on the Upper West Side for many years, a neighborhood that is largely Jewish. Now I live in Ditmas Park, Brooklyn where there is a mix of just about every religion, culture, and language, including a large Jewish community and a large Muslim community who live side-by-side. Many of my dearest friends are Jewish and Muslim, and their pain now is palpable.

My friends Vince and Jane visited me last weekend. When we went out for our kosher pizza crawl and tasting, we found that nearly every shop was closed, in mourning. As I’ve gone for my run each day this week, I can see and feel the heavy weight of sadness here. Everyone is waiting for word about their loved ones and what will happen next in this horrible, dangerous war.

I have been in touch with my friends in Israel, and friends here whom I know have family there. Thankfully, they are all safe. And all of them are scared. Some are leaving the country. Some are determined to stay. Some are still trying to decide what to do. The heightened alert has also extended to NYC.

The footage from Israel and Gaza is difficult to watch this week but I have forced myself to do it to bear witness and to listen to their stories. I find myself crying with them, hurting with them, and fearing what’s to come.

I’m not an expert on the geopolitics there, nor on all of the history. But I do know that people whom mean a lot to me are there, and I’m afraid for their safety every day. I’m gutted for all of the families and friends who have lost someone and who have no idea where their loved ones are. I’m devastated for all of the children, the wounded, those whom we’ve lost, and the many who have lost who and what they hold dear.

I’m hoping for peace for everyone. Israel and Gaza have already been through so much, especially this last year. Now the devastation has escalated exponentially.

Yesterday, I found this photo by Levi Meir Clancy. It was taken last year at Netiv HaAsara facing the Gaza border. It has the words “Path to Peace” in Hebrew, Arabic, and English further along and the mural depicts a path with flowers, homes, and trees. Netiv HaAsara is a moshav (a cooperative agricultural community) in southern Israel. I hope we can all find our way to that path and walk together. There is so much healing needed.