I saw a meme on social media this week. Titled “My Boyfriend, Trying to be Supportive” someone posted a screenshot of a text exchange with her partner. 

The woman texted, “My shawarma fell apart.” 

“Oh no,” the boyfriend responded. “Are you solution oriented about it or in the feelings stage?”

I have a confession that will not shock those of you who know me - I am solution oriented. When I hear about a problem, I want to jump in and fix it. My child had a fight with a friend? I’ll share my advice, call the friend’s parents, and guide a repair of their friendship. A teacher and parent fell into conflict? I’ll talk to each of the parties and clear up the misunderstanding. The carline procedures aren’t working as well as they could? I’ll make a new video in HaShavua and remind everyone what they are supposed to be doing. I like to make things better.

And yet, there are a lot of things in this world that we cannot actually control or make better. And I don’t just mean the big things, like terrorism and hostages and war and antisemitism. I also mean the things we all face on a daily basis - the quotidian hard stuff. We can’t make hurt feelings go away. We can’t force people to be friends. We can’t make our child accept responsibility when they don’t want to.

It is not easy for me to accept that not everything can be fixed. I appreciate a good solution! But when I sit in conversations with my children about challenging social dynamics, as I have talked to teachers personally impacted by the events of October 7th, as I have navigated discussions with parents who express concerns about their child’s education, I am starting to understand that even attempting to fix some things can be a disservice to those we love. (Full disclaimer: this year I set my computer screensaver to show the question “Is this something to fix?” because I really need the constant reminder that it’s good to be in the feelings stage.) And in asking that question, I am learning how to direct my energy – sometimes I really can fix the situation, but usually, my power is actually better used to help someone feel less alone.

Dr. Becky Kennedy, a clinical psychologist and the founder of Good Inside, shares that when our children express upset (and this can be applied to friends and partners and colleagues), our instinct is often to attempt to make someone feel better. “Oh you don’t mean that!” we might exclaim, “Don’t be so upset about not being invited! Just stop looking at the pictures on social media,” or “You’re not the worst on your team - you’re great at soccer!” I’ve even seen these kinds of comments related to Israel: “Don’t be worried about the war - Israel is going to win!” or “You don’t have to worry about your family - Israel has the Iron Dome!” In these statements, we are trying to help the other person feel better, but what we are actually doing is communicating, “Those feelings are wrong. Keep them to yourself.” We offer assurances with the intention to be helpful, but those assurances inadvertently invalidate the other person’s feelings.

Instead, Dr. Becky (as she likes to be called) offers, our job is not to make the feelings go away, but rather to make the other person feel less alone in those feelings. So when our child cries that they were left out, or that a friend hurt their feelings, we might respond, “Wow. That is so hurtful. It makes sense that you’re upset. Do you want to talk about it?” Or when they say they are the only person in their class who can’t read, we might say, “I’m so glad you’re sharing this with me. Tell me more.” When we do this, two things happen. First, we strengthen our connections with our children. We are opening up a channel of communication in which they will feel validated and heard. And second, we are building our children’s confidence, we are building their skills of self-trust. We are communicating to our child “you have a feeling, and it’s ok to be you.” 

This approach works for bigger people and bigger feelings as well. When a friend tells us they are worried about their family in Israel or when someone shares how concerned they are about their child living on a college campus right now, we need to remember that we can’t actually make their feelings all better. No matter how hard we try, we cannot end the war or eradicate anti-semitism. But we can respond in a way that helps our friend feel seen, so they feel less alone. We can sit with them. We can validate them. We can offer a space to talk. And in doing so, we strengthen our community and our connections with one another.

As I have been thinking about rootedness, and raising children who are firmly planted in the earth, it feels critical that we strengthen our children by validating their feelings and sitting in discomfort, all in an effort to grow their confidence. These skills feel more important than ever as we navigate this really difficult time as a community - I find myself being reminded, over and over, whether I am speaking to a child or to an adult, that we can’t fix everything, and it shouldn’t be our goal to try. Earlier this month, I was speaking to a friend who is Israeli, who lives in Los Angeles but whose family is all in Israel. I asked what else I could do to support them. And again, my instinct was to fix. Could I send dinner? Could I donate to a specific cause in Israel? My friend responded “Just keep asking me how I am doing, while you look me in the eyes. It makes me feel like you care and want to know what I have to say.” 

And that is not an easy lesson - it's uncomfortable to sit in feelings with another person. It requires us to be present, to be still, to suspend judgment, to exercise empathy and compassion. And yet, when we do this, we build connections with others, we strengthen our community, we bolster our children’s ability to navigate life in the manner we would want them to…and perhaps, just perhaps, we can still help them fix their shawarma every now and then.