Tish'a B'av: The Day We Make Space For Grief

The society we live in often tells us that there is no real place for grief. If you're depressed, something must be clinically wrong with you. While depression can have many causes, unresolved grief is often a profound part of the story. Let that sink in. So many of us carry grief that has never been acknowledged, never been expressed, and never been given the space it deserves.

Throughout our lives, we experience countless losses—some enormous, others seemingly insignificant. Yet from a very young age, many of us receive the same message: Suck it up. Move on. Be strong. If you're feeling down, keep it to yourself until you can pull yourself together and put on a smile.

But the Torah teaches us something very different. "For everything there is a season." There is a time for joy and celebration, and there is a time for sadness and grief. Both are holy. Both are necessary.

The question is: do we truly believe that?

When we walk into a shiva house and are met with silence or tears, many of us instinctively try to fill the space. We become uncomfortable with the sadness. But what are we really afraid of? Are we afraid of someone else's grief—or of our own?

What if, instead of trying to escape grief, we allowed ourselves to sit with it? What if we trusted that sadness is not something to be fixed, but something to be felt? Grief that is acknowledged has the opportunity to move through us. Grief that is ignored often remains with us, quietly asking to be heard.

Perhaps one of the reasons so many people feel weighed down, numb, or disconnected is not because they are weak, but because they have been carrying losses they were never given permission to grieve.

Tisha B'Av invites us to do something our world rarely encourages: to stop. To step away from the busyness of life and make space for mourning. We mourn the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash, the suffering of the Jewish people throughout history, and the pain that still exists today. But Tisha B'Av also gives us permission to acknowledge the grief we each carry personally.

And then something remarkable happens.

Immediately after Tisha B'Av begin the Shivah D'Nechemta—the Seven Weeks of Comfort.

Comfort.

Not because the pain never existed, but because it was finally given room to breathe. Comfort follows grief. Healing follows mourning. The Torah doesn't ask us to skip over our pain—it teaches us how to move through it.

So don't miss this opportunity. Allow yourself to feel the sadness of our nation's story. Allow yourself to acknowledge your own. Trust that grief is not the opposite of healing; it is often the pathway to it.

May we merit to grieve honestly, to comfort one another deeply, and to experience the healing that comes when our hearts are finally given permission to feel. May that healing ultimately lead us to the rebuilding of the Beis HaMikdash and the coming of Mashiach, במהרה בימינו.