Closing a circle - Country road, take me home...!

Tuesday this week was very emotional. I did something that I wanted to do for years, something that I probably should have done many years ago. But better late than never, no? 

Tuesday morning I boarded a bus heading south. My computer was with me so I could work on the bus and attend an online work meeting off the bus (with G-d's grace, the bus reached my stop just a couple of minutes before that online meeting was scheduled to begin and I could participate in it sitting at the bus stop, using my ear phones and my phone's hotspot internet connection). From there, I boarded another bus and then another bus, heading for my childhood village in the Negev, my first home on planet earth. I had two big plastic bags with me, in addition to my everyday bag. One of the plastic bags contained a big box, with something I had bought a few weeks earlier. That package was the reason for this trip. 

It all began when I was a child, of about 10 or 11 years old. I grew up in one of the communities in the Negev. It was peaceful, and very green. Our school looked like heaven - so many lawns, flowers and beautifully decorated classrooms. A local artist painted the outer walls of the caravans that served as classrooms. We had a fruit garden, a swimming pool near-by and a beautiful library as well. My teachers all loved me, and so did my fellow students. It was home. One of the beautiful things about this school was that they had a music school, and all the students learned how to play the recorder in the 2nd grade. I remember our teacher, Anat, and how she used to teach us. Later, when we grew up a bit, they allowed us to choose another instrument. I chose to play the clarinet. Why? Because it was such a 'cool' instrument. How I wish I had chosen guitar instead - I would have loved to play the guitar professionally today! But I chose a 'cooler' instrument, one that I don't use today and don't have any inclination to use any more. The school lent each clarinet student a clarinet to take home. I still remember the taste and texture of the clarinet's 'leaf' in my mouth, as if it was today. 

I developed this unhealthy, foolish habit of playing with the instrument (not playing it, but playing with it) - placing it on the palm of my hand and walking around my home trying to stabilize it on my hand, like a juggler in a circus. I was very good at that... Then, one day, the inevitable happened. The clarinet, as you can imagine, fell down to the floor. And it broke in two, in a way that cannot be fixed, in its middle part. You can imagine how I felt. It felt like my life had just ended. It was very irresponsible of me to play with it like that, especially since it wasn't mine - it belonged to the school, but it happened, nonetheless, and now I had to face the consequences. But... 

No one was around me when it happened, so it lead to the next act in the play... 

My father was very sick back then, he was at the hospital. My mother wasn't working and went daily to the hospital to be with him, so our financial situation was really bad. I couldn't ask my mother to pay for the broken clarinet, because I knew she didn't have the money for it. Even when an ice cream car was visiting our village and I was hearing its music and craving the ice cream, I never dared suggesting that I wanted ice cream. Simply because I knew she didn't have the money, and I knew it would make her sad if I said I wanted ice cream. How could I even tell her that I broke the clarinet? She would be furious beyond measure. I knew that the school knew of our situation and therefore, they would have surely let it go, but I didn't want to put her in that situation, life was too hard for her as it was, I didn't want to add more suffering, and I surely didn't want to face the consequences of her furious reactions. 

So I did something... I'm very ashamed of it, of course, but now it's behind me, so I can talk about it. I don't think I would have done this today. I devised a plan - to take my broken clarinet to school, go to the music room and replace it with an intact one when no one was watching. This way, I thought, no one would know, and the problem would be solved. And so it was. It was really solved! I walked into the music room when no one was there, and replaced my clarinet with another. The other clarinet didn't belong to any specific child, so it's not like I was putting the blame on somebody else, but still, I didn't tell anyone about the broken clarinet, and I took a new instrument instead of the broken one, without specific permission. It worked. The problem was solved...

... Externally, but it gave birth to another problem, a much bigger one, internally. I was plagued with feelings of guilt, anxiety and shame. Yom Kippur was around that time and I was tormented, I was so sad. It was the saddest Yom Kippur I've ever had. I was ridden with anxiety and guilt. Strangely, no one discovered what I did. I never heard anyone talking about a broken clarinet that was found in the music room. It all went smoothly. Outwardly. But not inwardly. I wonder today if they knew back then - did they check the serial number? Did they have a list of instruments given to students, with their serial numbers? I don't think they did. I'm almost a 100% positive they didn't. But still, the thought sometimes bugs me. Did they know it was me, but because they knew of our situation they let it go? I was such a GOOD girl, really, as good as a girl can be. And then, suddenly, something like this... Could it be that they knew but felt pity for me and spared me the humiliation and shame? I mean, the school principle could have easily announced in the morning gathering (we gathered next to the flag every morning) that a broken clarinet was found... but he didn't do that. Did he even know of that? I don't know the answers to these questions. I have a feeling they saw the broken instrument, but because it didn't belong to anyone specific, no one really cared that much. Except for me, of course. 

Anyway, for years I wanted to rectify the misdeed. I wanted to call the school and tell them I'd like to give a new clarinet as a gift to the school, but I was afraid they would ask me why, so I didn't. Until this week. This year I decided that I have to do it, no matter what. I called the director of the music school and without giving any details, I just told her that I'd like to anonymously gift a clarinet to the school, and added: 'Please don't ask me why, it's a long story...'. She said: 'It sounds like there is a very moving story behind this'. And I just replied: 'Not really...'. Anyway, I asked her what kind of clarinets they use, and where I can buy one. She was so happy to hear that they are going to get this gift. She told me they are using the Jupiter clarinets and that it can be bought in a big chain of music stores called Kley Zemer. I was so relieved. That part was now behind me and all I had to do was purchase the instrument and get it to them. And so I did. I bought it in the Jerusalem branch of this chain, and a few weeks later, two days ago, I boarded the bus to go there. 

I haven't walked those streets in some 30 years. I was so moved to be there, in my childhood home village, to walk there anonymously, on my own, to see the sights, hear the sounds, look for familiar faces, names on doorways, common areas. First, I went to the library. It is the exact same building, just the interior is different now (or so it seems to me? It seems so small now, but maybe that's because I'm older now?). From there, I just walked across the lawns of my childhood school, looking around, flashed with memories of childhood friends and playing games during recess. The school changed so much, and while it's still nice relative to all other schools I know, it is not the same as it was. It still has lawns, but perhaps they are not as green. It still has flowers, but perhaps not as many. The fruit garden is now gone. It's still pretty, but not even half as much as it used to be. Or maybe it's just because the magic powder of childhood is no longer spread on it. Still, it was so emotional for me to be there. I felt I needed a few hours to just soak it in, and I took the time. But before all else, I went straight ahead, the box with the new clarinet in my hands, to the music school. It wasn't at the same building anymore, but I could find it nonetheless. A trumpet teacher was there and received the instrument from me. He wanted to know the story... And at that point, I felt less ashamed, and told him the main part (that I had broken a clarinet and would like to return it now. I skipped the technical part of how I did it...). He told me 'but you were just a child, children do such things...', and I said 'yes, but for that child - I'd like to return a new instrument today, so that her heart would be quiet and at peace'. He smiled a broad smile and took the box from me. I asked him to open it and see that everything was OK. He did, all the parts were wrapped in their original plastic wrappings and it looked shiny and new. That circle was now closed, Baruch Hashem. I originally wanted to purchase two instruments for them, but then remembered that there is a prohibition on interest in the Torah, so I didn't. 

After completing my mission, and with a lighter, cleaner heart, I opened my computer again to do a Hebrew class with a student of mine, a Law professor at an American university. It was nice to do it in my childhood school, on one of the lawns. 

Then, I took a walk around my village - looking at the houses, the name signs on the gates, looking for the old grocery store (which was dislocated to another part of the village), for the synagogue (still where it was, called Ohel Menashe - my father's name... by chance...), for the family clinic (still at the same place), the kindergarten - still in the same place and looking exactly the same... I went to where my house used to be. Another family lives there now, it's now the home of a female lawyer. They changed the house completely, beyond any recognition. I think they may have rebuilt it from scratch. I walked all the streets: the old ones from my time twice, and the new ones - once. I recognized the homes of two of my old friends, still in the same place, near mine. 

Everywhere I went, I saw big, fancy houses (especially in the new streets), with gates, and dogs barking behind every gate. Very different than the place it used to be in my childhood. In my childhood, the homes were modest, no gates, everything was open and community ties were close, and I don't remember that many dogs... There were not many names on the gates. Instead, lots of warning signs 'Beware, a dog in the house!' and security cameras. I feel the place is more materialistic and less idealistic than it used to be, but I know it is not the end stop - all of the people of Israel are going through transformation and are becoming closer to Torah and spirituality, and I think that they will too. When I was there, and just before I left, I did something that I hope would help. I wanted to do it long time ago, and specifically there. I really hope it helps them.  

I also walked the short distance to the local cemetery to visit my dad's grave. I washed his tombstone and felt so relieved after that. I read some psalms near his grave. It was good to be there on my own. 

Mission accomplished, really. It was such a good day, and it did me good, I think. 

Then, when all the different missions were accomplished, quite late at night, I went to road 293, the road just outside my village, took a taxi to the closest highway, and 2 minutes later my bus to Jerusalem arrived. I think it was the last direct bus for that night, and I feel it was Hashem's hand that guided me to be there at that time and not later, so that I could return home comfortably. It was like receiving His approval for that day and everything I did in it. When I arrived in Jerusalem, I felt like my real home is in that village. It's strange, because I always feel most at home in Jerusalem. 

This week's Torah Portion is VaYetze, in it, symbolically, Jacob leaves Be'er Sheva (my village is not far from there), and after a long journey and a few significant dreams, he returns home again. In a way, walking in the streets of my childhood was returning home again, and even though I don't live there anymore, this place is now with me, and I can return to it in my mind any time I want to and have a fleeting feeling of 'home' once again in this life. 

Shabbat Shalom! 

From a Jew to a Jew

 A Jewish colleague of mine in another country wrote to me some work-related letter, and then added some things about life, the Torah portion and more. A discussion followed, and each of us contributed something to it. Then, I wrote something about Deuteronomy 4:6. That colleague asked questions about the wisdom referred to in this verse and how each of us can manifest it. And this was my reply (unedited) - I think it can be worthwhile to post it here as well:

You are asking about the wisdom referred to in Deut. 4:6, it's meaning and the purpose of our being designated as a chosen nation. The way I view it, these two things go hand in hand. Every nation and every single individual on this planet have a purpose and are here to serve - serve others, serve humanity. We were chosen for a specific purpose - and that is to bring the light of faith in G'd to the world. Nothing else. Other nations surpass us in almost everything - but this gift, the gift of faith in the one G'd, is our mission here and for that we were chosen, and for that we have suffered terribly throughout history (and we keep suffering as we speak, as antisemitism in on the rise again). The verse in Deut. 4:6 refers not to our intellectual capabilities but to the laws and statutes that we observe (Deut. 4:5). That is, it refers to a wisdom much higher and much greater than our own - to that of G-d's. This wisdom is seen through us when we follow these laws, and through the observance of these laws we have benefited and dramatically changed the life for almost all of humanity. Here are some examples:

1. Monotheism: The very exile that started our bitter suffering around the world has also benefitted the world greatly. When you come to think about it - every region to which Jews were exiled, became monotheistic, while world regions to which we were not exiled - remained pagan. It's an interesting insight - think of Northern Africa, the Middle East, Europe - these were the territories to which we were exiled, and see what happened there: in a matter of very few centuries, these regions have discarded their idol-worship and adopted or developed a monotheistic religion. They pray to G'd (the same G'd who gave us the Torah) and they talk about His laws. Christians read the Hebrew Bible and study it. If you read the Quran (I have read a few Surahs) you'd find out that a lot of it talks about "the People of the Book", that's us, and our relationship to the land of Israel, and most astonishing of all - the laws of the Quran are an adaptation of our own. I know some Muslims here - they live a modified version of the laws of the Torah. None of this would have come about without the influence of our observing the laws of the Torah among their midst. Some people may say that this is not necessarily a positive influence, citing the terrible terror attacks or wars happening in the name of Islam or Christianity. The answer to that is that wars have happened with or without religion. At least with religion, some people are trying to find truth and better ways of being and the world is a work in progress, it is still evolving. Now look, for comparison, at regions to which we were not exiled in significant numbers, such as in central or west Africa, China, Japan, Papua New Guinea and other remote regions - these nations have remained in their paganism until recently and some are still pagan. If you go to Japan or Hong Kong, you will see very intelligent, successful, normative people bowing down to statues and looking for their salvation from them. Yes, Christianity is very slowly developing there, but in relatively small numbers (South Korea is the most Christian country in the Far East, but it is relatively recent and Christians are only 30% of the population). 

2. Shabbat: Our ordained day of rest has been an immense blessing for humanity. Before Judaism, most parts of the world did not have the concept of a day of rest. They just worked and worked until they died. Until this very day there is a disease, unique to Japan as far as I know, called Kuroshi - death of hard work. It's not like they build pyramids, but many of them work at offices, and to gain favor with their superiors they do it also on weekends, until some of them just die. The concept of a week with one day of rest is now prevalent throughout the world and has literally taken people out of bondage, and it wouldn't have been so if we hadn't kept this commandment. 

3. Kashrut, rites, holidays: A few years ago I visited friends in Scandinavia and gave some non-formal talks about Judaism and Israel in front of Christian congregants in my friends' homes. Of course, they were serving food and refreshments, most of which I couldn't eat because I keep Kosher. Needless to say, I felt highly uncomfortable and I had to explain again and again to everyone who asked me why I do not eat this or that. A year later, I got an email from a friend of mine, asking if I remember a certain lady who was present in one of these meetings. I did. I think she was recovering from an illness. My friend said that this lady was coming to Israel with her two boys and would like to meet me. That was a huge surprise. So I met her here in Israel. And she told me that when she saw me observing the laws, when she saw how I was eating ("like Daniel from the Book of Daniel"), it made her realize that "while Christians need Jesus, Jews do not, because G'd has another plan for the Jews". This has made her want to bring her adolescent sons here to Israel and learn about all this more closely. I gave her boys a tour in Jerusalem, which I hope will remain with them. Similarly, a couple of non-Jewish friends came to me once for a holiday meal. A few days later, they told me that they discussed this and realized that it was the laws and commandments that we keep (same laws referred to in Deut. 4: 5-6) that served as a mechanism to keep us as one nation. So keeping the laws - again - reminds everyone around us, Jews and non-Jews alike, that there is G'd and that He is the giver of the Torah, because the laws that we keep are so filled with divine wisdom, they cannot be simply man-made. The effect of us keeping them has transformed humanity. 

4. Judicial influence: It is not a coincidence that of all possible things, it is our Ten Commandments that are placed at the entrance to the US Supreme Court. All developed countries have designed their judicial systems based on laws derived from the Hebrew Bible (the term 'Old Testament' is misleading and therefore I try not to use it). Think of Japan, again - before the constitution was written to them at the end of WWII by the US (with many Jewish lawyers in the team that drafted it) - there were totally different laws governing social life and social justice in Japan. If a person from a lower place in the social hierarchy didn't bow down deep enough to a Samurai who was passing by, he could have had his head cut off and that would have been justified by all. These things have changed, and this too is an influence of Torah values. 

5. Serving as a witness to the existence of G'd: Jewish history has been full of miracles. The fact that we have survived for almost two millennia without a land of our own, without a country of our own, without one Jewish population center - as we were scattered all over the place - without a common language (Hebrew was used mostly for liturgical purposes, as we know) and while a sword was often drawn against us - is a much greater miracle than the splitting of Yam Suf. This mere survival is incredible and unparalleled in human history. Add to this the fact that after two such millennia we have suddenly started returning to our promised land, the land of our forefathers, and we not only survive here, amidst a sea of hostility on all borders and within our country - we thrive and prosper, so much so that people from many countries come here to learn and decipher the secret of our success. Where else in history has anything like that happened? Where could anything like that happen? The fact that all of this was written a few millennia ago and recorded for eternity in the Hebrew Bible in the form of prophecies, and there are so many of them that say the same things in different words by different prophets - this serves as a witness, a testament and a reminder for all of humanity that G'd exists, that G'd is one and that He is the giver of the moral code recorded in the Torah. 

That's it - without trying to proselytize, without trying to do anything else - just by being us and observing the laws we were given - we serve the purpose to which we were chosen which is to be witnesses to the fact that there is G'd, and the nations slowly and gradually realize the divine wisdom in this all and are deeply affected by this. The price we had to pay for this mission is dear, but antisemitism has been used as another mechanism to keep us cognizant of our unique identity - yet this is a topic for another conversation :) 

You are absolutely right about life in Israel - there is no better place for a Jew than here. Even when we, Israelis, go abroad to travel, to study, to work for any number of years, we do not feel like Jews in the diaspora do. We feel as Israelis (translation: proud sovereign Jews in their homeland). Living here or making Aliyah to live here, we participate in the building of our own country, we participate in the defense of this country, we live, work and study in our ancient mother tongue, we develop our own unique culture rather than imitating the culture of our hosting nations. All of us contribute to the success and prosperity of our country. Even the Hareidis that are often blamed for not serving in the army or not contributing much to the economy, etc. - even they have an immense contribution to our society: they keep the Talmud alive when they study it in depths in their Yeshivas, and - the biggest, most amazing Chesed organizations are initiated and run by them, such as Yad Sarah, Ezer Mi'Tzion, Zaka and numerous, numerous others. These charity organizations serve and benefit all segments of Israeli society (all - that means also secular Jews and non-Jewish people, including Arabs, and even in times when the political situation is tense). Israel is a miracle in itself. 

At the Hebrew U.

I'm so happy to be working and studying (all independently) today at the beloved campus of the Hebrew U. I have warm feelings about this campus, it feels like home to me, even though  it's been many years since I studied here. Of all the places in Jerusalem where I can work and study, this is my favorite by far. It is such a beautiful, special place. The air is filled with something so special, and I'm longing to be here when I'm not here. Part of the reason why I am happy that I moved from my previous neighborhood is that now this campus is a walking distance from where I live and I can come here often. I don't do it often, but when I do, it is always like coming home. I like the library a lot. I try not to sit when I work, because it is not healthy to sit all day, so I find myself a quiet corner between the shelves, a shelf with no books on, I place my books and PC there, and I work standing up. I feel much better doing it this way than sitting all day. When you sit all day you feel sluggish and tired, and your body becomes weak. I'm glad I found this corner with no books. It's perfect for my needs. It's on the fifth floor. 

The place that I like most about this campus, except for the library, is the synagogue, with the stunning views of the old city, with the special, relaxing, spiritual atmosphere. Oh, I sometimes want to sit there for hours, just breathe, just be, pray, meditate. Today I was there - I was all alone there, which was surprising, but perhaps it is because this is the summer vacation and most students and professors are not even here. So I took advantage of the situation and went to pray in front of the big window overlooking the Old City. It was great, really. Then, when I wanted to leave, I found out that the door is locked. Someone locked me in... I didn't panic. I found an open window, and walked out through it. I walked a bit on the roof and then found another open window. I walked in through it and found myself inside the building, but out of the synagogue - which means I managed to go out without any problem. 

When I was there, I also climbed up to the women's section and found some reading materials. I read them randomly, and there were precise messages for me. Exactly the things I needed to hear. Baruch Hashem. 

A new (?) name

 A couple of years ago I added the letter H to my family name, as the last letter in the name. I feel that this is the more precise way to write it in English in terms of rules of transliteration, and I like it better this way, because this letter is very airy and spiritual, and when I think of it, it has a pure, white image. I like that it is at the end of my name. Many years ago, when I wanted to open a Gmail account, my name as I used to write it back then was already taken, so I added h, reluctantly. I was upset, I regretted not opening an account sooner, before someone else had the chance to take "my" name as her address. It bothered me to have the h at the end, because I didn't write my name this way back then, but now I'm so happy it happened this way - now I have an address that reflects my name exactly as I want it to be, exactly as I use it professionally - with the letter H, which is also part of the holy name. 

Here is an example of something that I thought was bad - that someone else already took my "name" in Gmail - and it all happened for the best: I got the better address as a result of that. 

Shabbat shalom and Chodesh Tov!

A thought

I don't know what made me realize it. Perhaps meeting people who need prosthetic body parts to function. I then realized how every little piece of our body is something that cannot be measured in value. No amount of money could give a person a human leg like we are born with. No amount of money in the whole world could give anyone a human hand like we are born with. Or a human eye. Or a human ear. Or a human brain. Every little piece in our body is priceless, precious beyond any measure. 

And then the next thought comes to mind - if Hashem gives me such an incredible machine, that all the money in the world cannot buy, and He gives it to me for free... what does He want me to do with it? He didn't give it to me for nothing or just to enjoy my life going here and there. He didn't give it to me just to travel, eat, drink. What did he want me to do with this body, with this life? Why did He send me here, to this troubled world, with a body that is very sophisticated and so priceless? 

I'm not sure I have a new answer to this question. I've always thought that I have to use my time here to do acts of kindness. But is it enough? Is it all He wants of me? I sometimes feel like He is trying to push me to do some things for my own good as well. This week I finally listened. I took myself to the Netanya beach and swam in the sea after more than ten years (!!) that I haven't done so. I do not have a swimming suit. I took my PC and worked in a coffee shop on the beach, and then, when the sun was less crazy, I walked by the water and felt such a huge desire to jump in the water. But how could I do this... and then I saw a middle-aged man, dressed nicely in office clothes (buttoned shirt, nice trousers, etc.) - and he just walked into the water, with his beautiful long clothes, and was so happy, laughing out loud, etc. I felt like Hashem was using him to show me what to do. I find nice people to watch over my things, and tried it for the first time - walk into the water with a long skirt and a long sleeved shirt... I wasn't sure how it was going to work, but... it worked amazingly well. I realized I could do it any time I want, dressed up modestly as I am. I was floating in the water, like I like to do and haven't done forever. I felt the water was purifying me and I was being cleansed off years and years with all the redundant charge I accumulated in them. It was superb. I didn't care about later - how will my clothes dry, how will I sit in a bus with wet clothes, etc. I just felt Hashem was giving me the green light to do it, and I did. 

When I finally went out of the water and sat down dripping on a beach-chair, I was shocked to find out just how quickly my clothes stopped dripping and became only lightly moist. It was incredible. I want to do it every week now - go to the beach, swim as I am, dressed up and everything, and just enjoy this part of life as well. 

Last night I had an interesting dream. I was with a little girl and we saw a HUGE moon just next to us, bobbing up and down, disappearing and reappearing, always looking white, almost like it was made of white plastic, with many blue lakes dispersed all over it. We were shocked and astonished. Then, when I woke up, a friend sent me a "Happy new month!" greeting, and I realized that a new month (a new moon) is about to start this Shabbat. I'm sure the dream is somehow related to it, even though the thought has not occurred to me in the dream or in waking, until that message came from her. But what does the dream try to tell me about the coming month? That it is going to be so special, so big, so astonishing? I wait with anticipation to see if anything good is going to happen this month. 

 

change

 I'm having a cold, so it's a good opportunity to stop, and write a little. 

As you probably know we've had some dramatic days recently - missiles thrown at us from Gaza, attempts at pogroms by Israeli Arabs who live with us in cities that knew good coexistence so far. In the nearby neighborhood to where I live, sidewalk stones were broken by such mobs, and people were careful not to go out when it was not necessary. And - just as it started, so it ended. Suddenly. I remember the first missile siren that I heard - it came at the end of an online work meeting, and at first I didn't recognize it as siren. I thought it was probably the sound of a very strong wind, or perhaps a very strong motorcycle motor. But after a few moments, it dawned on me that this is a missile alarm. I ran to fetch my neighbors and we tried to find a place to hide. But we found none. We were faced with the reality that our neighborhood does not have shelters, and the only place to hide is in the first floor of the building, where the landlords live, and if they're not at home, we  have to find some other hiding place. 

However, I remembered that a few years ago, when I was living in my previous neighborhood, I didn't care at all about the sirens. I went, with many others, to synagogue as the sirens were shouting, and we were very calm, not afraid at all to do that. This time I also felt this way, but I was worried about my neighbors, who are older and new to the country. 

Another dramatic thing that happened - is that the corona limitations were lifted. 85% of Israelis are vaccinated, and there is no longer a need to wear masks, no one asks you anymore if you have the "green passport" before you enter places. It is all back to how it was before, and this is incredible. I am very grateful for that. Really, it is a big miracle, and Hashem chose us to be among the first to be at that point. 

Still, the prime minister who was G-d's messenger in doing this, in bringing about this incredible change, was not crowned prime minister this time around. Instead, someone with 5 times less votes became the prime minister, and he did that by joining forces with people from the left, people who oppose Judaism, people he had promised that he would never joining forces with. It was a shock. We prayed so hard, but it didn't help. It's not like I think Netanyahu can be the only prime minister. There are other talented people who can do a good job, but it is obvious that G-d is behind him, for whatever reason, and used him in so many ways to bring good to Israel. And the unfairness of having him be defeated after doing so much, and be defeated by a cynic such as Bennett, is very sad. When the new government was sworn, I was with a few dozens of other people outside of his formal residence, and we said thank you, for all you did for us, and waved our flags. I'm so glad Hashem helped me be part of this thank you 'party'. It was important. 

Then there was the flag parade in Jerusalem. Hamas threatened to fire missiles again if we go there. But we went. I went. I took my flag with me, and we were walking with our flags near the Old City. A friend whom I haven't seen since the start of the Corona spotted me amidst the multitudes, the thousands of people who were there, and came hugging me. It was nice to meet like that. We then went to the Kotel (the Western Wall) and finished the evening in a coffee shop, drinking a hot drink. Hamas didn't fire missiles, 'only' fire-balloons, and gladly, the new prime minister ordered to retaliate firmly, which was a good decision.

I've had so many things I thought I wanted to write about, but now, with this cold, I can't think of much. I really think Netanyahu, while far from being perfect, was a good prime minister. I hope he returns soon. 

I'll try to write here again, perhaps about things that are more related to me, but it's hard for me to talk or write about myself, and in truth, there is not much to write, so it's easy to just talk about the Israeli, Jewish aspects of my life. 

Shabbat Shalom!

Liebestraum

I should have written this three or so weeks ago, when it happened, but had to let it soak-in, be absorbed by every capillary of my soul. I was with these impressions for a whole day, and then later as well, until today I realized I stopped thinking about it, and so perhaps it is time I can share it. 

It was three or so weeks ago, on the early morning hours of April 19th. I was fast asleep, enjoying a good night sleep, and then I found myself in this very interesting state of consciousness in which you sleep, you dream, but you are also somewhat awake, and your rational mind is aware of what's going on. I'm not sure what time it was, probably around 5 or 6 am in the morning, maybe later, I'm not sure. In this state of mind, I was aware that I was in my bedroom, aware that I was lying face down in my bed. I suddenly felt a presence, or should I write a Presence near me, next to my bed. I couldn't open my eyes, but I sensed that it was in the image of a young person. It reminded me a lot of someone I knew many-many years ago. It had his energy, his essence, but I don't think it was him. This figure stood by my bed, in the area between my bed and the closet, very close to me. My first instinct was to be scared, as I couldn't move, couldn't open my eyes and couldn't do anything, yet "it" was there. But I then reminded myself that this is probably a special state of consciousness, half a dream, and that nothing wrong is going to happen to me. I calmed down and just allowed myself to experience whatever it was that was going to unfold. That figure, that "person", then lay down on my bed next to me, close to the wall this time. I couldn't see him, as my face was directed the other way, away from the wall, and anyway, my eyes were closed and wouldn't open. But I felt him. He then remained "him", but it wasn't a person with a body. It was just spirit, just energy, just soul. This bodyless being then embraced me. It did so without a body. Just the energy, warm, pure, loving energy, engulfed me in such a whole, comforting way. I know it was strange, but I really felt that this energy was G-d. It was embracing me without hands or arms, without a body, yet I could feel its light pressure on my back and shoulders and it was so gentle, loving and comforting. Like when a parent hugs a sleeping child and tucks the blankets around him. It tucked the blankets around me with His energy. It then stopped and lay on my side. Without words I communicated to Him that I'd like Him to do this again. So He did. And it was heavenly, and then He stopped again. So I asked again, and this is how it went for a while. It was the most divine feeling on earth. Then, as it embraced me for the last time, it was hovering above me and it breathed out a little "cloud" of breath near my face - pure, crystal clear, just a tiny bit sapphire-like bluish cloud of breath, of energy, which I then breathed deep into myself. I felt like I was breathing the breath of G-d. I breathed it in as much as I could. It was the most comforting feeling ever. Just pure love. I didn't want to wake up from this 'dream'. When I finally did wake up, I stayed in bed for as long as I could to just soak-in this feeling, this love, this warmth and kindness. I felt this energy, this breath, circulating within my body and I didn't want to stop it. I then had to get up to work and I was thirsty. Yet, I was afraid to drink or eat anything. I was afraid that if I put water or food or any other tangible, material thing into my body, this elated spiritual feeling would vanish and I didn't want to lose it. But when I did drink - I realized that this feeling stayed, that it did not disappear. I was happy to learn that. The entire day after that I felt this energy flowing within me, I felt like I was in the seventh heaven or something, it was such a peaceful, calm, happy feeling. I'm pretty sure that what I experienced was the love of G-d. And it was just supreme. I wish I could experience it every night. 

Today I was reminded of this - and comforted myself with the memory of this 'dream'. I then felt I could write it here. And I did. 

Misc.

So I finally did it. At first, it was obvious to me that I wasn't going to. Then, pressure from the environment started accumulating, which made me start thinking about it, researching it. And then some research findings started to come out which made me realize there is merit in doing this. I finally took the vaccine. 

I'm a naturalist person - not taking pills or drugs, trying to take care of my body and not needing Western medicine. Therefore, the idea of taking a vaccine was an anathema to me - I felt it was not what I wanted or needed to do. But then pressure from people started coming: "Are you not taking the vaccine? Don't do this to yourself! You should take care of yourself and be careful!", etc. These were not enough to convince me - at all. But I did ask G-d about it. And then the answers started coming in in ways that I could not deny. I realized G-d was telling me to do it. But I still hesitated and resisted. And then research findings started coming out - saying that if you take the vaccine, your chances of infecting other people goes down dramatically. And I felt that G-d kept sending me messengers and putting pressure on me to do it. I finally did - not without sadness - and mostly not for me, but for people who may be vulnerable to it. If I trust my immune system to fight the virus, but I infect other people, who will then infect other people, who will then suffer or even die, then I prefer to take the vaccine and prevent needless deaths down the line. 

After I took it, I heard on the news that if you take the vaccine, your chances of infecting others go down dramatically by 94%. That made me happy. 

When I took it, I felt so sad and dissatisfied. I felt I was betraying myself, betraying my body. When I got in, two Arab nurses received me. They were very nice and cordial. I gave them my arm, but then couldn't let them put the needle into my flesh. We tried a few times, and every time I instinctively withdrew my arm, like a little child. I was so embarrassed of my reaction. One of them held my hands softly. I laughed at myself and apologized. They said that it's OK, that with some other people it may take 30 minutes before they let them do it. It took me 'only' five... 

And then they did it, and gave me the vaccine. I felt OK after that, but a few hours later, I started feeling SO exhausted. I felt heavy and tired. It was Shabbat, so I could allow this to myself. I went to bed at 10 pm and slept for 12 straight hours! The strange feeling was still there after 36 hours or more. I must admit I felt violated. I felt I was forcing myself to do something I absolutely didn't want to do. But I think I did the right thing. This coming Friday I'm supposed to get the second vaccine. If this will save someone's life, then it's worth it.  

Last Friday I went to the supermarket in my neighborhood. One of the employees announced some special sales (bread, meat, etc.) for Shabbat. Then, I was surprised to hear - he was talking about the weekly Torah Portion! It was so cute! I don't think I've ever heard that before. I hope they keep doing it - while people were shopping, they were hearing words of Torah and wisdom. How amazing is that! And apropos of words of Torah - I just read the late Rabbi Jonathan Sacks' article about this week's Torah Portion, titled: "The Courage of Identity Crises" (Tzav, 5781) and I really recommend it. Try finding it online and reading it. I love his writings, his ideas, the patterns that he discovers in the Torah. He is an intellectual giant. He is so alive, even now when he is no longer with us. 

One more supermarket anecdote - the same supermarket. I was buying there, and then I heard a fight. Two shoppers were standing near the cashier - an Arab and a Jew. I'm not sure what they were arguing about, but then the Arab person told the Jewish person: "And you are Jewish!". He meant it to say that he expected something much better from a Jew. I was surprised. To hear that from an Arab person - that he has higher expectations from Jews... wow. That was something. 

Passover is just around the corner. I feel a fountain of prayers bursting out from within me, things that were blocked in me for so many years. I pray for things that I'm pretty sure will not happen - but just the freedom and the ability to pray from the bottom of my heart for something that I really want is liberating, regardless of what the outcome in reality will be. It brings me closer to G-d. And then I use my own personal struggle to pray for the people of Israel - not only for my own personal redemption, but for my people's redemption and for the redemption of the whole world. This month, Nisan, is the month of redemption. I hope big, miraculous things are going to happen, soon. 

Happy Passover,

R.