In the early days following the Hamas attack, I made a conscious decision to view and even read as little of the brutal violent details. My goal was to know what had happened, but to gain that knowledge from people close to me who I trust, and who could relay such an awful reality with sensitivity, and with a mindful awareness of my own personal experience with pain and with trauma. But lately I’ve seen a shift in myself, as many of the children taken into captivity have returned to Israel. I now find that I’ve swung in the other direction. I am reading, watching, listening, and conversing with colleagues about the ordeals these children have endured, their conditions both physically and mentally upon return, and of course all of the conjecturing of what life may look like for them moving forward. Simply put, while I sheltered myself from details at the onset, I now feel compelled and drawn to consume as much as I can, in as much detail as is available. And I do this, knowing that what I learn I’m going to have to process in a serious way, that I wake up with terrible dreams some nights, and that my ability to feel pleasure – to partake in joyous occasions has become further challenged. And so, like the group who consumed information immediately after the attack, I grapple with why I continue to expose myself?
What are the forces both conscious and subconscious, which pull us towards painful details?