I'm Major Jackson, and this is the Slowdown.

The outbreak of the Israel-Hamas war generated widespread outrage across the globe.

In no uncertain terms, many decried the horrific and unimaginable violence Hamas perpetrated

against Israeli citizens, and many railed against Israel's retaliatory bombings of communities

in Gaza, and its punitive denial of electricity, water, and food to Palestinians.

In social media posts, videos, and group texts, I heard righteous indignation.

I heard passionate pleas for justice, but most of all, I heard a palpable grief before

upon humanity, a deep sorrow at the loss of life in both Israel and Gaza.

We exist in that collective suffering, in the images of homes turned into mountains

of rubble, and drone images of blood darkening below body bags, in the footage of children,

women, and the elderly hurriedly fleeing all their belongings in tow from another theater

of war.

As one friend said, these horrors make the body and bones heavy.

It hijacks any belief in the notion of reason and ceases the mind and tongue.

As with any conflict, many people are calling for announcements of allegiance and moral outrage

on anyone's behalf, in the midst of rightful pleadings for collective action, for protest,

which will come.

I want to give space for and honor those who are processing their grief and educating

themselves on these histories, those who are determining how they should be in the world

right now as caring and informed citizens.

I don't think silence always means complicity.

Sometimes it means for me a need to find my way through the heavy bands of daily life

...