Amira Shoshan-Ilani ’15

Posted on June 14, 2024

My name is Amira Shoshan-Ilani, and I am from Jerusalem. I am a student of psychology and Jewish thought at Hebrew University. I work in mental health and teach yoga, and I am a Bronfman 2015 Fellow.

I do not often see my father cry. The last time I saw him cry was the Seder night. Of course, the Seder raised very difficult feelings about the situation of the hostages, who have been in a dark Egypt for so many days already.

The counting of the Omer (between Passover and Shavuot) just emphasizes how many days have passed. Another day and another day. At the beginning of the counting of the Omer, I really felt how these two counts became one. The counting of the Omer became a quiet moment of mindfulness and prayer.

Back to the Seder night. My father spoke about Hersh Goldberg-Polin, the son of his good friend, who is a hostage now in Gaza. My father said that he never before felt the reality of Egypt. And since Passover, I have been counting. Counting, and praying for their return.

One of the questions that I ask throughout the week is how much I want to hear, to see, and to allow the external reality to penetrate.

I feel this very strongly with the young, brave women whom I work with, who are sexual abuse survivors. I see how much the external reality of the war, which is often really not far away, shakes them up so much that sometimes they really need to build walls in order to protect their sanity. This is particularly true for these brave women, but there are also so many others here who are dealing with an internal storm each day, and the external storm is just too much.

Breathing Circles:

One thing that really helps me stay strong at this time is teaching yoga. I began teaching yoga at the beginning of the war, which was not an obvious step in the beginning, with everyone in survival mode. But even then, and especially now, when we realize that this isa long-distance race – that there is no clear picture of the future of the war in Gaza, and no one knows what will happen in the north – I feel like the thing that most gives me strength is creating a space where it is possible to breathe.

Many different women come to this space, each bringing something else with her. One comes from a shiva call of a good friend of her husband’s, who died of his wounds from fighting in Gaza. Another one’s husband has been in the army reserve service for many months, and she tells me that she is pregnant, in her first trimester. One woman just got back after several intensive shifts of reserve service, and she chooses to take a moment for herself. Another friend is the mother of a child, and her husband just came back from reserve service. Suddenly she has a moment for herself, to breathe and to remember her body.

I also bring myself to this space, and suddenly it is possible to breathe. To move thebody. To remember the sources of strength within me, and to keep going within allof this uncertainty.