Reflections on the Negev

There are... mountains all around me. I think.. I don't know. Are they mountains, these mind-stunning epiphanies? I feel as if my chest has been crushed by a war hammer. Massive spasms of purest rock, straining, stretching up from mystery... Red and purple, blue- green! Have you ever seen green rock? Have you ever been swallowed by a crater, left hoarse and gasping by frozen waves of beauty so enormous as to stifle thought? I raise my eyes to the mountains, is all I can think of. I shield my eyes from the heat of it, even though my back is to the sun. Did the king, as he wrote his words? Did he see himself from afar, a passing speck all-encompassed by Limitless Sight? From where will come my salvation? Is this is my salvation? A redemption witnessed by that which to me is infinite, is incomprehensible... My salvation will come from G-D, the Maker of the heavens and earth.

 

I breathe again.

A Life Is Not Of Questions Asked

Boy, time flies, time flies...
she says.
I think,
Again? I know.
Or thought I knew, more like.

Brooklyn accents spoken thick
Like cream cheese, on a sesame bagel.
Good times, right?
The best, but always over
even before I blink.

Relic stories, drifting
In my hazy mind, so foolish.
Of a bridesmaid- believe it, now she's fifty
And friends who remember when my mother was born.

It seems that things should disappear
Instead of thoughts, in the end.
Unfair, I think,
I'd rather have the memories.
Which weighs more, the thirtieth day
Or two hundred magnets?
Or watches, all from Swatch, of course
But why?

Why- the answers
I never know
Those that she knew, I think.
But she never asked the question.
Only just went through the alphabet
the letters of love,
With never a why
Like letters she got in the mail- and sent!
Our only honest pen-pal.

I love to hear from you,
I know.
(I should call more often)
Too busy, though.
And how is school?
It's good,
I'm safe
Like Jackie Robinson.
And by tomorrow...
I'll be a genius.

I love you...
too...
Again...
I'll call...
I'll try
I know...
I try
She never asked.

_____

In memory of my Grandmother.

I Walk

Today I walk
Up heaven's hills
In stolid steps of petty ills
I go whither my concsience wills...
I walk.

Some days I walk
In mountain-sky
The sun assaults the brown and dry
On feeble footing, far and high...
I walk.

I walk in desert, sand and sea
Alone, in friendly company
Where never had I thought to be,
I walk with them
I walk for me.

At night I walk
In sleepy knolls
In foreign yet familiar roles
I sing as sleep assaults my soul...
And in my dreams
I walk.

Is Anybody Home Away From Home?

I am comfortable here in Israel. It would be a lie to deny that to myself, however startling the realization. My bed is, in fact, my bed. My books, incredibly, fit into my meager bookshelf. My shelves and closet exude an air of chaos cloaked by neatness eerily similar to that of their American counterparts. So yes, I am comfortable here.

And I am happy. I am sad as well, because I miss my mother terribly, along with missing consistent privacy and temperature control. But on the whole, I have little to upset me unduly. My classes are stimulating beyond my wildest imagination, my mentors are infinitely and unconditionally generous with every power at their disposal, and every evening the sunset blazes into my room with an explosion of scouring vitality that brings even my drab walls alive for precious moments. 

I am content, and I am happy.

But I am not at home.

Israel is home, I know. And I do know- I feel it. There is something here that defies expression, an ineffable click of completion that fills you, inflates you, diffuses into you from the very air...it is nowhere else in the world. I can't explain it, but I know it is there.

But still, I do not feel like this is my home, now. I am attached to so much in America that I cannot be broken from. I have relationships, ties that distance, for all it is spanned now by technology, cannot help but freeze.

Let me intercept any thoughts that I feel pressure to move here. It is the last, if it is there at all, of many, many sensations that occupy my conscious and subconscious attention. But I feel stuck in something of a paradox. I live in Israel, but I live in New York. New York is home, but I am at home in Israel. It seems impossible to reconcile the two without denying some vital facet of the truth.

I'm sure I will, with time. For now, though... I feel rather displaced. It isn't unhappiness, just... unsteadiness. A constant glance over my shoulder to find my sister; a jolt, as I realize I am a suddenly foreign. So many small things that suddenly seem so vast.

Back and forth I go. Where I stop...

M.

PS: I receive all comments through e-mail, so I've been seeing the swarms of BlogSpam currently plaguing Ink As Rain. I apologize profusely, but I don't know how to stop it. It upsets me to no end, seeing this worse-than-nonsense clogging up my lines of communication. Please bear with it until I can find someway to remedy it- if you can, surely I can.

Beginnings

How to start this post?

It's almost as difficult as starting a blog to begin with. I would imagine that a hefty percentage of people who set up blogs give up before they even start, because they simply can't think of how to begin.

Beginnings are always terribly irritating patches of time, aren't they? Even when the start of something just seems to meld into the middle, the beginning is harder, and you can't really define what becomes easier except to shrug and offer "I suppose I got used to it."

The first beginning of my seminary year was, thank G-d, an atypical initiation into the rocky seas of Semiindependant Living. After the initial flush of applications, interviews and results of last year, the white gloves of description seemed to slough off the palms of our encouragement squads, and their smiles became rather like badly brewed coffee. "You'll hate the first two weeks," they said matter-of-factly, and my stomach dropped. "Oh, but the rest is all worth it! "Wonderful," I thought. "With my emotional clock, that means I'll be sobbing into my pillow for six months, and by the end of year banquet I'll be thinking "Well, this might work!"

Of course, it wasn't easy. It's astounding how quickly one forgets how to make friends when you've been surrounded by the same faces for years, and it's slightly disturbing how insignificant details can turn into major points of tension with roommates who really are very nice people. There are girls I don't like, and meals I can't eat, and hills (literal and figurative) that I can't climb yet. But there are also new and unique friends, the discovery that I really can do my own laundry, and stores of strength I never thought I possessed. I have learned about myself- I never thought I was particularly practical before I went to Israel, or that I could ever
take a taxi by myself. I never imagined I would make my bed out of my own violation, and certainly never that I would (or could) sponga my dorm room.

Strange, how adversity breeds resilience.

I am home briefly for my brother's Bar Mitzvah, (a memoir in itself, I assure you) and then staight back to Israel. I do anticipate that my second beginning will treat me with a kindness akin to its predecessor, but wish me luck all the same. And if the e-mail function on blogger works as I hope, I may be able to update with some modest frequency.

Oh... I said I would tell you of any updates from "Horizons." I got an e-mail saying that unfortunately they couldn't use my peice, though they did encourage me to send it in elswhere.

I guess I'm officially a writer now!

(no subject)

And we return for a brief testing session...

September 5th, 2005

My Israel-induced hiatus is upon me. I am leaving for the airport in two hours.

So one million heartfelt thank you's to everyone who has helped and encouraged me. Mr. Avrech, Pearl, Stx, Josh, Coffee Mom, Ilan, Yingele, MN, GZ, Rabbi Fleischmann, eli7, and all my beloved "Anonymouses"... what can I say? Your influence upon me has been enormous , in so many different ways. Every comment brought a glow my face, and the thought that so many spectacular writers appreciated and enjoyed my little musings has touched and inspired me both on the blog and in the dimensional world outside. I am infinitely grateful, and am deeply indebted to you all.

I hope to be able to update, even if sparingly, over the year, but if not or until then,

Shalom o lihitraot!

Love, Michal