Holding our Breath

Friday, January 17, 2025

A reflection from Los Angeles and my heart and soul bound with Israel

Will the fire spread?

Holding our breath.

Can we go home?

Holding our breath.

Will we really, finally #bringthemhome?

Who? How many? When? Are they alive?

Holding our breath.

When will the air clear?

Holding our breath.

Will we sleep through the night? Without a siren? A warning? An evacuation? A nightmare?

Holding our breath.

Will we finally get past the flu A, the flu B, the RSV, the pneumonia, the winter coughs?

Holding our breath.

What does tomorrow bring? Sunday, Monday? How can we even think past two days from now?

Holding our breath.

How will they heal from the unimaginable trauma?

Holding our breath.

How will we all heal?

Holding our breath.

Love and support circling the globe.

Finding our breath.

Whatsapp messages, texts, emails with love, care, voice notes, emojis.

Finding our breath.

Caring strangers showing up for each other with food, with socks, with teddy bears.

Finding our breath.

First responders. Soldiers. Firefighters. Volunteers.

Finding our breath.

Yellow hearts, yellow ribbons, yellow caution tape.

Fears. Prayers. Hopes. Trepidation.

Resilience. And yet…

Bright yellow ribbons. Bright yellow flames.

How did we get here?

Humanity needs to learn how to breathe again.

For now, holding my breath.