On Friday, I showed my students a documentary about a Holocaust survivor.
Listening to Gerda’s story is at times overpowering, especially since I am an empath. The devastation feels so unbearable and I haven’t even lived her journey.
So many scenes stand out in my mind, but the one that totally gets me is when she talks about how her father made her wear boots in June on the day that the Nazis took her away. Those ski boots helped her survive a 500 mile death march from Germany to Czechoslovakia through the snow while other women were wearing sandals, snapping off their toes from frostbite.
Gerda’s testimony is pure devastation.
With scatterings of hope and ultimately liberation.
I have to tell you that I am exhausted this weekend. Teaching about the Holocaust always wipes me out.
But I think that’s the point. It’s not an easy topic. It’s not to be brushed aside lightly.
As much as I wish everyone could be healed in such a devastating part of our history, I know that the best thing for me to do is to heal myself. Heal myself in relationship to despair, to sadness, and to devastation.
So this weekend I am taking it easy. Slowing down. Laying in bed, enjoying the softness of my mattress. Sitting on the porch, listening to the wind in the trees. Reading in the hammock. And appreciating ordinary moments of my life.
That is where healing lies.
How do you heal yourself in the midst of despair?
Be gentle with yourself.
Start there. And listen to what you need.