Keep Going
Call it what you want
You don’t really understand what matters until you’re running for your life in the middle of what was supposed to be a normal day.
I didn’t fully understand.
I mean, I’ve been through our wars and all of our running to escape rockets. I remember my eldest son as a newborn in my arms during the Tzuk Eitan war with Hamas, 13 years ago. Escaping those kinds of rockets is a completely different ordeal to these IRGC and Houthi missiles. What they can do, and are doing all over my neighborhood and country - North, South, East, West - is something else.
I know what I’m about to write is going to sound obvious. It does even to me. But no matter what gets destroyed, cars, houses, factories, offices, businesses, roads, schools, systems, even cities over time, can be restored.
People can’t.
And once that clicks, because you’re living through something like this and you really get it, it doesn’t unclick.
Five weeks now.
No school. It stopped when the missiles started. A few weeks in, there was an attempt at Zoom, which mostly didn’t work. Kids distracted, alerts and sirens interrupting ten times a day. It sucked. It’s kids at home now during Passover, trying to make sense of why their world keeps shrinking. They’re incredible, they take it in their stride, but it’s not easy.
I’m trying to work. Trying to be present for them. Trying to be a good partner to my wife. Trying to take the puppy out without overthinking how far I am from somewhere safe. You leave the house and you have to think about it. How fast can I get back? Where are the kids? Where’s the nearest shelter? How do we coordinate if we’re apart? How do you communicate calmly when nothing about this is calm?
A cluster bomb landed right down my street. Another one near where I used to work. Another at my train station. Another near my kids’ school. Missiles everywhere from this current war and the 12 day war. Today, a colleague of mine, Einav, who’s in the advocacy fight with me, shared how her grandmother’s neighbor’s place was destroyed by a cluster bomb. I have friends serving in Gaza and in Lebanon. Everyone is affected, and not in small ways.
We carry on.
People call it resilience. Strength. Like we’ve tapped into something admirable. I get why it looks that way from the outside. And it is. It’s incredible how the whole country is getting on with this. Soldiers, seniors, kids, parents. Literally everyone. And we are resilient, I’ve spoken about that a lot. But there’s another truth alongside that.
From the inside, it’s just hard.
It’s hard managing work when everything is unstable. Hard keeping your kids calm when they’re already going a bit batshit crazy. Hard checking in on my mum, who’s going through this now without my dad, who passed away six months ago. Hard watching the news. Hard watching people you know carry more than you. Friends whose partners are in reserves, holding down full-time jobs and full-time parenting with no break. Hard not knowing when any of this changes. Plans gone. Letting people down with a speaking tour canceled. Things you ordered don’t arrive. Sleep comes in pieces, if at all. No space. No schedule. No routine. Hard to be creative. Hard even writing this fucking essay.
And still, we carry on.
Not because we’re trying to prove something. Not because we’re aiming to be strong. Because there’s no choice. When life narrows down like this, when everything becomes about seconds and decisions and who’s safe and who’s not, things get very clear. Making sure you and everyone you love is alive.
That’s it.
And in that reality, you don’t choose resilience. You just continue.
What people call resilience is often just what life looks like when you have no choice but to keep going.
Keep going.
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Eitan, this was a beautifully worded article. I had no idea what life in Israel actually amounts to. Now I know. Thank you for sharing this.
Eitan? I am a military veteran with severe post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). I was an active-duty U.S. Marine for 5 years. Not everyone believes me when I say it, but so many times all throughout my life, my life has been in danger and there are certain decisions I made at certain times, under pressure and with little time, and that if I had not made those decisions, then I quite literally would not be alive today.
I know what it’s like to keep working when bombs are falling and machine guns are blasting. I know how to quickly move between different areas in order to avoid death. In training, I was tested to see if I have combat skills and know how to administer first aid. And, Eitan? More than anything else, I have lots and lots and LOTS of experience working with people who are just continuously so angry, miserable, antisocial and hard to work with that you would think they are drowning in acid, or something. I know how to work with people who are so strongly anti-social that interacting with them is like interacting with carbon monoxide.
So, if you ever need a break from stress, anxiety, tiredness, weariness or the world and you just need someone to talk to, I am always here! My door is always open and you can talk to me about anything at all. Just so you know.
Great article man! Thanks. Keep your head up. 👍✊
I think about what it must be like to live under the attacks now for Israel. The sirens, the chaos, the shelters, the explosions must leave your nerves raw. I live in peace, for now, in the center of the United States. One bomb falling anywhere near my town would be terrifying. I pray that your enemies will soon be unable to fire these missiles having had their stockpiles destroyed by the IDF and USAF. May you feel the hand of Hashem over you, Israel. And may His peace fill your hearts.