When Our Hearts Break with Others: Holding Pain Without Being Consumed

This week has felt heavy. Everywhere I turned, a friend was sharing a story of suffering—illness, loss, struggles in marriage, deep worry about a child. And layered on top of this was the heartbreaking news of the murder of an outspoken pro-Israel activist, someone who devoted their voice to truth and justice, silenced far too soon.

I found myself lying awake at night, heart aching. Maybe you’ve felt this too—when you love deeply, your body doesn’t just hear someone else’s pain; it carries it. And for those of us who naturally “absorb” suffering, the weight can become overwhelming.

But the Torah, neuroscience, and psychology give us a roadmap: how to stand with someone in their suffering without collapsing under it.

💡 The Torah’s guidance: Moshe Rabbeinu carried the pain of Am Yisrael—but he also kept turning to Hashem with it. He didn’t confuse his role as compassionate leader with being the savior. Our tradition teaches: we are called to be with someone in their darkness, not to replace them inside it.

🧠 Neuroscience + psychology add: Empathy doesn’t have to mean fusion. When we over-identify, our nervous system mirrors pain as if it’s happening to us. But when we practice compassion—holding space, offering presence—we stay grounded.

✨ A tool that helps me (and may help you): I imagine a tennis court. On one side is me, with my own struggles and capacity. On the other side is my loved one, with their very real and often heavy challenge. My role is not to run across the net and carry their burden. My role is to stand firmly on my side, to keep my balance, and to send back whatever doesn’t belong to me—while still cheering them on, with love, from across the net.

This image helps me honor two truths at once:

• Their suffering is real.

• My role is to love and support, not absorb.

And sometimes, the pain we carry is not just personal but collective—like the grief of losing someone in our community or our nation. In those moments, it’s even more important to find practices that help us stand strong while our hearts remain soft.

If you’ve been carrying too much this week, I want you to know you’re not alone. You can honor pain without drowning in it. You can support without absorbing. And you can pray, breathe, and visualize your boundaries while still showing up with fierce love.

This is how we stay human, connected, and unbroken—even in a world that keeps testing our hearts.