Enough! Are you In?

What a week! What a tough rollercoaster week. 

I have a message for the world. Yeah, little old me. Speaking to the entire world.

My fingers resist, my eyes refuse to follow what I write. It feels pointless, like shouting into the void. I’m sure so many have tried before, only to be met with disappointment. Yet every part of me—except my brain—urges me to write. So I will.

If you want to leave, go ahead. You're free to do so at any time. Just hit backspace and return to whatever you were doing before you landed here. I know—I’ve done it a thousand times. But it won’t help us. We need you. The world needs you. And God needs you. Yes, you.

Once again, we stand in a fractured, splintered world. Every day, more hate, more violence. And yet, against all odds, moments of peace and healing sprout in places we never imagined.

I can't do this. I don’t want to write.

Every part of me screams, Go back to bed. Who do you think you are? What do you think you’re doing? It’s 3 AM, and you have a full day ahead. God please help!

It was all so clear in my mind. The words flowed effortlessly when I woke from my dream—a dream and a cold-sweated nightmare tangled together. The kind that doesn’t let you fall back asleep.

Let’s try again.

My world. Your world. Our world. Yes, our world is broken. We have a real problem, and the solutions we keep reaching for have failed us.

For far too long—maybe forever—we’ve been divided into endless tribes. Left and right. Us and them.

I can’t do it. The words just won’t come.

Yossi, breathe. Just say what needs to be said.

We need to come together. There is no my side or your side. I am not more right than you are wrong.

I don’t have the answers to the world’s problems. But I know one thing—we’re in this together, whether we like it or not. And it’s up to us. All of us. To mend and heal this world.

Call me young, naive, foolish—and you’d be right. But there is no other way. Protests and more bloodshed won’t bring peace.

Only peace will bring peace.

I may not agree with the one on the other side of my pain, but I know they are in pain, too.

I know I’ve hurt you just as much. And maybe an apology isn’t even possible. But we need to embrace, even through the pain.

Israelis and Gazans. Ukrainians and Russians. Chinese and Taiwanese. The list is endless, the history even longer. But we must stop.

Put down your weapons. Wrap your arms around each other instead. Yes, I know—the pain won’t allow it. But we have no choice.

When will we wake up? After more blood is spilled?

Haven’t we all suffered enough?

The world is accelerating in ways we never foresaw, and if we don’t unite, we are in for even greater struggles.

AI, digital currencies, advanced weapons—if we don’t stand together, they will control us, not the other way around.

Division will destroy us. It already has. But something feels different this time.

I think of Nachshon. Trapped between the sea and the Egyptian army, as the people cried out to God, He answered, Why are you crying to Me? Move! There was only one way—forward.

And Nachshon stepped in. Alone. And the sea split before him. One man’s belief that God did not create us for destruction. But he understood something else, too—

God will not save us if we refuse to take the first, hardest steps. That is why I’m writing this.

I doubt this piece will make even the smallest dent. It’s messy, scattered, imperfect. But I imagine Nachshon felt the same before he stepped forward—and then the waters parted.

I have no answers. No solutions. And I don’t even know why I’m writing this.

We are exhausted. We are tired of this game.

But no one is stopping it for us.

It’s up to us.

It’s up to us.

- איש