We flew out of Ben Gurion Airport on the night of October 6th, 2023, after a family trip of a lifetime in honour of our daughter’s bat mitzvah. We felt so fortunate to have shared such a meaningful, memorable and happy 3 weeks in a country that had captured our hearts. We were on a high! It was serene and beautiful leaving Jerusalem on erev shabbat with no foretelling of the horrors that would follow.
Mid-flight to Melbourne, I awoke to tens of messages asking where we were and if we were safe. Confused, I switched on the inflight CNN to witness the threat and panic that was engulfing Israel and the global Jewish community.
My love of Israel and strong connection to our Jewish homeland coupled with deep despair over the unfolding brutality and assault on our brothers and sisters is an agonising combination. Implausibly, I have drawn strength from the vestiges and have remained hopeful. This coexistence of such powerful emotions has created an ironic yet ripe setting for personal growth and inner fortitude.
The weeks following our return home from Israel in October 2023 were a blur of shock and sadness. We were engrossed by the news, unable to focus on much else. Days went by as we lived our lives on autopilot. Our previously all-consuming and seemingly critical activities receded into insignificance. My husband, a physician, longed to return to Israel to offer hands-on help. He felt a profound dismay in humanity, coupled with anger and disbelief at the Western world’s—and specifically Australia’s—response to the surge in antisemitic rhetoric. I was tuned to another channel, empathising with the pain reverberating across Israel, naively blind to the building battle on our doorstep. I was unable to shift my thoughts beyond what was happening in our Jewish homeland. I felt helpless.
I wept for the beautiful, wasted lives, the bereaved and the devastated displaced communities.
I wept for the hostages and their families.
I wept for Israelis, off all ages, living in constant fear.
I wept for our brave soldiers, and their loved ones who had no assurance of their safety.
It took many weeks before I was able to see beyond the situation on Israeli soil. It was only then that I was seized by the fear that had already engulfed my husband and community regarding our reality as Jews in Australia. I was dealt another blow when I was at last able to process the devastating response to the terror inflicted on October 7th and the condemnation of Israel’s retaliation that was echoing throughout the world and threatening the Jewish diaspora.
I have a dear childhood friend in Israel with whom I’ve maintained contact for nearly 30 years and was lucky to spend time in Tel Aviv with prior to this cataclysmic event. I was in touch with him on October 7th and almost every day throughout his 110-day full-time reserve duty that he volunteered for on October 9th. The uncertainty for his safety and that of his family caused me intolerably sleepless nights. My heart ached.
After many months, I realised that my regular check-ins and attempts to provide some comic relief and distraction from the war were also keeping me, improbably, optimistic. Perhaps having a purpose was cathartic, or maybe it was the connection that lifted my spirits, but these routine touch points felt like a lifeline. In my post October 7th life, this friend continues to be one of my greatest sources of inspiration and motivation. I am in awe as I watch one of my heroes simultaneously dedicate himself to altruistic endeavours for community and state, during and on top of his service as an IDF intelligence officer, requiring relentless unthinkable decisions to be made in harrowing situations. It takes an exceptional spirit and vitality to not only pursue but encourage laughter and warmth and champion the best in humankind whilst emersed in the very worst.
Like many others, I have changed since October 7th. The conflict in Israel and the fight against anti-Semitism continue to dominate my thoughts. In the early hours of each morning, I habitually seek news updates, articles, podcasts and social media headlines from Israel. Dan Senor, Eylon Levy, Bari Weiss and The Daily Briefing have been added to my line-up of parenting podcasts. I listen to and read everything I can to try and make sense of unfolding events and this new reality, we as Jews find ourselves in. On my bedside, novels have been replaced exclusively by non-fiction and dominated by books about humanity and the pursuit of happiness. Authors like Dan Ariely, Jonathan Haidt, Eddie Jaku, Abigail Shrier, Yuval Noah Harari and Nimrod Vromen have given me a fresh perspective on human psychology and the desire to invest more in social capital to bring about the constructive independent, familial and societal change that will lead to a life of purpose, solidarity, tenacity and belonging. My perspective on the human journey is evolving and I am desperate to explore and attempt to deepen my understanding of the human psyche and our ability to not only survive under extreme pressure but emerge with optimism and a desire for positive progress and productive change.
I have a burning aspiration to enrich this dark time in our history to bring something positive from the dark shadow cast by the events of October 7th and prove that on a community level, we can triumph over evil.
I have a desire for personal growth and self-improvement.
I have a hunger for human connection – rich relationships and genuine thought-provoking dialogue – that I believe is essential for mental health and resilience.
I feel a strong need to actively seek out happiness despite, or perhaps, in spite, of the current state of our world. My yearning for fulfilment and pleasure is in part to honour those who are no longer with us and those whose losses and experiences have fundamentally altered their lives forever.
Other changes in me are more tangible. While I care far more about Australian and Global politics than I ever have before, the matters I used to care about most; climate change, the economy and social issues have taken a back seat to our survival as Jewish Australians. For now, I am a single-issue voter. I wear outward signs of my Jewish identity proudly and with hope.
A magen david.
A solidarity dog tag.
A yellow hostage ribbon pin.
A silver “Bring Them Home Now” necklace.
Simultaneously, all the time, right over my heart. I feel naked without them. The familiarity of seeing strangers wearing similar talismans provides me with a sense of comfort and familiarity that defies logic.
I feel a strengthened bond with the Jewish community both in Melbourne and beyond. Listening to ‘Hurricane’ or ‘Am Israel Chai’ at a community event brings tears to my eyes.
I recently travelled to New York City for a whirlwind 6-day trip, which prior to October 7, I would have considered too hard, too short, too costly or all three, and consequently, not possible. While there, I bore witness to the horrendous atrocities that occurred at the Nova Music Festival on October 7th at an exhibition on Wall Street. In the city where Yiddish slang like chutzpah and shmutz is woven into the vocabulary and latkes and blintzes are, thrillingly, regular menu items, I felt a sense of belonging. We ate at HaSalon, owned by an Israeli chef and restaurateur, danced on tables to Israeli pop music, listened to a Jewish stand-up comedian and an Israeli Jazz vocalist, and lived life to the fullest.
When my grandmother arrived in Melbourne from Europe in the early 1950s after witnessing the Lódź ghetto, the loss of her entire family at the hands of the Nazis, Auschwitz and death marches, she called Australia the ‘Golden Medina.’ We need to now be more inspired than ever to embrace the abundance of optimism and invincible spirit that my grandparents and other Holocaust survivors possessed and prove that as Jewish individuals and a collective, we are indomitable and unbreakable. We will keep music playing, allowing it to arouse in us the full gamut of human emotion from which we can grow, and we continue to dance and celebrate life and love. We must open our eyes to beauty, even in the bleakest of landscapes, and in doing so, not let the immense suffering and premature loss of innocent life that we have seen, be in vain.
Almost 300 days on from October 7th, 2023, the war still rages with daily losses, relentless rocket attacks, hostages still in captivity and families in limbo. While our brave soldiers continue to battle to defend the Jewish homeland, emotions throughout Israel and in the Jewish diaspora remain heightened. On the home front, our existence in Melbourne is punctuated by university encampments, regular hate fuelled protests based on lies and propaganda, radical slogans and antisemitic incidents. I am scared for the future and tears flow more frequently and easily.
Concurrently, I remain an eternal optimist, always hopeful for a brighter future. We are a proud community, with many brilliant voices and leaders among us, united in our love for Israel and pride in our Jewish heritage. I consciously seek out happiness and connection, and champion positive initiatives. Like my dear grandmother, who like so many in her generation, triumphed against all odds, we will not only survive, but we will thrive, and we will absolutely dance again.
