Lea Salameh,Project Coordinator,DRI
I recently read that it takes about two weeks to form a habit,to find a rhythm in a “new normal” and function within it. At first,this idea seemed impossible—until the evacuation waings in Beirut grew more frequent,the news harsher,and the smell of buing houses more persistent. It seemed impossible until I finally understood why my father could sleep through the loud sounds of bombs and never grew tired of watching the news. We call it resilience,but perhaps it’s just another habit—one bo of necessity,shadowed by guilt.
In the first week,we moved to the mountains,and then,again,the weekend after. Although our house was in a “safe” area,we could hear the strikes. It almost felt like we were one with every building demolished and with every life lost. Nights tued into a series of “Are you okay?” messages sent at 2:30 a.m. to family and friends and no way of knowing until one tick on WhatsApp tued into two. A delivered message became our fragile measure of safety. Then,fear settles in,tus into anger,disbelief,and,finally,a reluctant acceptance. The thought,“This could have been us”, hung heavy in the air until it shifted into the darker realization that we were closer to that reality than to the hope of a ceasefire. The latter,when it finally came,felt unreal.
Amidst it all,work became both an anchor and a challenge. Tasks that once felt routine became a way to hold onto a semblance of normalcy. Deadlines were stretched under the weight of uncertainty,and colleagues offered one another daily words of support,even as we all carried our own anxieties. Despite everything,we pressed on,finding strength in the shared understanding that our work mattered,perhaps now more than ever.
Even now,the sound of drones fills me with unease. A passing car still makes me hold my breath,fearing it might be a war plane. The slam of a door jolts me as if it were an explosion. These “new” habits leave me questioning whether the feeling of safety is something we can ever relea in two weeks. Or,like so much else taken from us — homes,lives,and normalcy — it remains out of reach for an inconceivable amount of time.