What Israel Taught Me About Healing

I’ve been in Israel for the past three weeks, visiting family and friends in the land where I was born — the roots of my story. I’ve been coming back every summer for the past 25 years, but this time, in the wake of October 7 and the ongoing conflict with Iran, everything feels different.

What I’m witnessing here isn’t just grief, though it’s certainly present — carried quietly and heavily in people’s hearts. What stands out just as strongly is the incredible resilience of the Israeli people. It’s as if there’s a kind of spiritual muscle memory — an inner wisdom — that knows how to rise, rebuild, and reach for life even while the ground is still trembling beneath them.

I see my people working, taking care of one another, walking their dogs, sitting in cafés, exercising, enjoying the beach, practicing yoga, and even partying — not to deny the pain, but to honour life. That behaviour reminds me deeply of the body’s own intelligence in healing. Israelis don’t forget or ignore pain — they move with it.

Israel feels like a post-traumatic nation — but not a broken one. It’s a country that knows suffering intimately, and yet, keeps choosing to show up for life again and again.

In Shavei Zion, the little coastal village up north where I grew up, I see a community holding its people tenderly. Families are making space for joy amid sorrow. Friends are finding moments of connection and softness in the most unexpected places. That deep reverence for life, even while mourning what’s been lost, moves me to my core.

As a yoga therapist, it’s reaffirmed everything I believe about healing.Healing isn’t about going back to how things were. It’s about learning how to live well with what is now.To find moments of peace, of ease, of breath — even when the heart feels heavy.

These are the lessons I carry home and into our work together.Let’s continue to make space — for grief and for growth. For stillness and for action.Let’s keep moving, breathing, and healing — not to escape life’s pain, but to honour our capacity to live through it with grace, presence, and compassion.

With love and gratitude,

Lee x