The Sun Also Rises

Reflections on holding multiple truths

Holding more than one truth is something I’m reaching deeply into myself to practice these days. It means allowing myself to bear witness to Palestinian stories — past and present. It means giving myself space to grieve while distancing myself from dehumanizing rhetoric, no matter where it's coming from. It means continuously opening to other perspectives. It means not shaming myself or others. It means accepting that there is no easy path out of anguish. It means returning again and again to humility as one who has only been to Israel once, and not mistaking deep emotional and spiritual connection for lived experience.

It means children are children are children are children.

It means being critical of hypocrisy, and vigilant against righteousness. It means giving myself space to be all over the place and extending this same grace to others. It means more quiet, more listening, and less reacting. It means finding safe spaces for talking openly without trying to be articulate or sure of anything. It means noticing how my body reacts to certain statements, sentiments, and even songs. It means taking afternoon naps, only to awaken at 3:00am, willing sleep to return, only to dream again of danger, and the sun also rises. It means allowing the anger when it rises and it means not sinking into despair. It means stringing words together that might dissolve the moment they touch the air.

It means every single human being has a story.

It means our most holy task may be to ask hard questions and come together over these, and that our best chances at peace may lie in the possibilities that remain unknown.