When the Going Gets Heavy

There are moments when everything just feels too heavy, not because of one big thing,

but because of everything. The way it piles up. The way it settles into your chest. You

look around and wonder, How are we here again? We tried so hard. We davened, we

hoped, we pushed ourselves in ways we never thought we could. We held on with

everything we had. And somehow, we find ourselves back in the same place.

The Nine Days are here again. And while for some, it’s just another part of the calendar.

For others, it brings up something deeper, a feeling that life’s been heavy lately. So

many of us have been holding on, hoping something would finally change. We thought

things would be better by now in the world, or even within ourselves. That something

would ease up. That things would start to feel lighter. And when that doesn’t happen the

way we hoped, it’s only natural to feel discouraged and wonder if all the effort and inner

work we have done has made a difference.

But I think this is precisely when the real work begins. Not the big, visible kind of work

that people write about or notice. The quiet kind. The kind that happens when you

choose to get out of bed even though everything feels heavy. When you answer your

child’s question with a smile, even though you feel like crying. When you keep showing

up, even when you would rather pull the covers over your head and disappear for a

while, that quiet kind of courage is the work that matters most.

It’s easy to forget how much progress was made. We get so focused on the road ahead

that we lose sight of everything behind us. The battles we’ve fought, the healing we

have done, the moments we pushed through, even when no one else saw. And even if

we are revisiting old struggles, we’re not the same people we were the last time we

faced them. Every moment of trying, every step forward, even the tiniest bit of growth

counts. And it changes us, even when we ourselves do not see it.

We have changed. We have stretched. We’ve leaned on each other. We held onto our

Emunah even in the darkest moments. So when old feelings return -it’s okay. It doesn’t

mean you’re failing. It doesn’t mean you’re back at the beginning. Healing isn’t a straight

line; it’s a spiral. It loops, curves, and circles back, but always from a new place. We

revisit the same emotions, but with more tools in our hands. More self-awareness. More

inner strength. That’s not failure - that’s depth. That’s growth.

And when everything feels hopeless or overwhelming, there’s no magic fix, but there

are small, steady ways to keep yourself grounded when life feels shaky. Start by naming

what’s real. Simply saying, “This is a hard week,” or “I feel like I’m slipping,” can take

some weight off your shoulders. Putting feelings into words often makes them more

manageable. Then, scale back your expectations. You don’t have to fix your whole life

all at once — choosing one small, doable thing to focus on is enough. Let go of the

pressure to have a perfect day. You’re allowed to feel low without it spiraling into self-

doubt. Sometimes, your only job is to be gentle with yourself. And don’t forget to notice

what is working. If you got out of bed, if you answered one message, if you showed up

for someone or reached out, or simply chose not to isolate… that matters. That’s

strength, even if it doesn’t feel like it.

As individuals, and as a nation, we have been through so much. And sometimes the

pain feels like waves that are coming too fast to process. But if there’s one thing our

history has taught us, it's that we don’t stay down. We don’t stay broken. We rise. We

rebuild. We find each other in the rubble, and together we keep going.

So if you feel like you’re falling apart. You’re not at the beginning. You’re standing on

everything you have already survived. Everything you learned. You are not broken. You

are still building. And you are not building alone.

We are building together.