Thursday, December 29, 2016

Tuesday, December 13, 2016

Dreams, just for the record

Dreams, just for the record:

Take voice lessons
Make art - eclectic paintings, video art, portrait photography
Learn to play guitar and violin again
Record a song (write a song!)
Make a music video for the song
Live in a minivan in the US (coming up soon!)
Backpack in South America and in India
Volunteer in third world countries, teaching children
Write a book
Compile drawings of children from places I'll be around the world and make a book out of them
Own a house with a big big yard
Adopt animals in need and give them a good, free life in that big yard
Study in the Arava Institute of Environment
Run (or co-run) an important environmental organization
Study education and philosophy
Teach
Voluntarily run art programs for underprivileged children
Be part of an Israeli-Palestinian partnership program/school
Learn Arabic
Learn Russian
(Later addition, which I forgot:) Be at a Coldplay concert!
(And another one I forgot:) An art exhibition of my own


 



Friday, September 30, 2016

גירסה ב': השראה והתאחדות




"ממלא כל עלמין
וסובב כל עלמין
ומבלעדיו אין שום מציאות כלל."



...זה לא רק שספרים מרחיבים את תודעת ה"עכשיו", משמרים את הזמן החולף וממלאים את בועת ההוויה במשמעות, אלא גם ממלאים אותי אני עצמי הקטנה בהשראה גדולה עד מאוד!
השראה שעמה נלווה גם תסכול קטן.

ההשראה הינה כזאת:

ישנם אנשים מוארים בעולם, שרוחניותם ואהבתם לכול עומדות לפני המחנה כנד מים של מוסר וחמלה! הם מהווים מקור השראה ואור לגויים, לגויי העולם ולגויי היהדות, ביהדותם הבוהקת יופי, תום ויושר. בחוכמתם. הם שואבים מתוך הכתובים, מתוך ממדי הזמן, המקום והמעשה, מתוך הלב, משמעות ותובנות עמוקות, קו לבן וצלול של שגב שנולד מתוך התחברות הגוף והנפש. כדוגמת הרב זלמן שחטר-שלומי (הרב המייסד של "יהדות מתחדשת" בבולדר, קולורדו, ארה"ב. איש דת, איש רוח, חדשן, למדן, מורה דרך ופורץ דרך. נפטר ב2014).

ואז מילותיהם יורדות אל המרים הקטנה... וכשאני קוראת פיסקה, מאמר או ספר שלם, המילים העבריות מקבלות משמעות, והן צרורות בצרור של עוד מילים ותובנות שמרחיבות את הדעת, וההשראה גדלה ומתעצמת ככל שהקריאה מתקדמת, ואני מאבדת את תלישות הזמן העכשווי, כי אני מתחברת לדעת שהינה רחבה מאוד, שורשית מאוד באמת הפנימית של כל האנושיות העכשווית והנפש התועה והתוהה.

ולמה תסכול? התסכול הינו כזה:

יש בעולם כל כך הרבה רוע, כל כך הרבה רשע וחוסר התחשבות ואדישות מוסרית. ויש אנשים שלא זכו לטעום טעם רוחניות פנימית, והם לא מממשים את ה"אור לגויים" (או אפילו "אור לעצמם") ואולי עושים אפילו ההיפך. ויש אנשים בדת שלנו ובדתות אחרות שהם מלאי שנאה וכעס, כלפי היהדות והמורשת היהודית, או כלפי דתות ומורשות באופן כללי. אבל הם לא קראו את הספרים או הרעיונות האלו! הם לא יודעים את היופי הטמון בטוהר של דרך הלב, של שביל הנתינה והאהבה וההשתוקקות לנאמנות לאמת הפנימית שכן קיים ביהדות! ולכן התסכול: אני מתמלאת עוד ועוד אור, והוא לצערי נשאר רק בגדרי, שאני כבר זכיתי לטעום ממנו; אני כבר נעשית רווייה! והלוואי והייתי יכולה להסתובב ברחובות ערי העולם, בנימי לבבות העולם, להלל ולשבח את הקיום ואת אנשי הרוחניות העליונה (מכל הדתות!), ולהציף את העולם באור לבן (התמזגות של כל הצבעים), בוהק, צלול של אמת פנימית ואהבה, של רצון לעשות טוב ולהוסיף טוב, אך ורק טוב, בעולם.

___

וההשראה של טלית השכינה שנעטפת סביב העולמות בטיפין-טיפין של ה"גירסא-דינקותא" שנמשכת איתי לכל מקום ולכל זמן שרגליי וליבי הולכים.
והשכינה של ערב שבת, שאין כדוגמתה, כשהשעה הכתומה בשמים מתחלפת בצבעי פסטל מתכהים, והשקט וצפצופי הרוח מבשרים את השבת. (אני לא דתייה, אבל הדבר הזה פועם בתוכי ברמ"ח האיברים של הרוח.)

והשראה גדולה מאוד מאוד יש בשירה הציבורית, במעגלי תפילה, ובבתי כנסת מסוימים. אני חשה נעלית, כאילו שתי כפות רגליי העליזות מורמות מעט מן הקרקע לכיוון השמים האינסופיים של הרגש.

___

והשראה גדולה מאוד אני חשה לנוכח עוצמת האהבה שלי ושל טל, שהיא בעצם הערכה גדולה מאוד, שמקור חיוניותה וצורתה הם רכות והקשבה מאוד גדולים. אני מרגישה שזה ניזון מהרכות וההקשבה שלו אליי, והוא מצידו חש שזה בא גם ממני, וזו גדולה של התאחדות מוצלחת: היא יוצרת ספירלה למעלה, או סולם, של תכונות טובות וערכים מאירי פנים, שהאחד מרווה לשני ומהשני. והלוואי ולא נפסיק לטפס מעלה מעלה ולהרגיש את הקירבה המעוררת-השראה הזו שהלב יודע להעניק לתודעה.

אני מוצאת את האלוהות (את אותו אושר מפעים) בקירבה הזאת אליו.

___

והשראה גדולה יורדת אליי ממראות של היומיום: מהיופי שלנו עצמנו, בשר ודם, בעלי אסתטיקה שמוסיפה חן בעולם, כשם שכל אדם יפה מוסיף חן בעולם ומייפה את המציאות.



הלב לא מוגבל להכיל השראה, רק הלוואי ויכולתי להפיץ אותה ברבים, לשתף מעט ממנה עם ילדי הדחי, עם נשות האלומה, עם גברי השיעבוד, וגם עם כל אדם מן השורה שדעתו בראשו.

ואם לא אוכל אני עצמי, הלוואי ונוכל כולנו יחד, להאיר, להאיר, להאיר.

*ממליצה מאוד מאוד לקרוא את הספר "קרבת אלהים" של הרב זלמן שחטר שלומי ורות גן קגן*

_____


על הנתק בין זכרונות היהדות לבין היכולת המנטלית והטכנית ליישם אותםMIRIAM FALLET BUCKMAN·THURSDAY, OCTOBER 27, 2016
ב"גירסה דינקותא" שלי יש תפילות ומזמורי שבת ויום טוב. הם חלק מהקנון הפנימי שלי, והם בדרך כלל נדחקים הצידה בנוחות, או מרומזים אצלי בקריאת ספרי קודש, ספרי הגות יהודית או בשמיעת ניגונים ביו-טיוב שממלאים את הבית הקטן שלנו בימי שישי בצהריים. אבל לפעמים יש בי צורך להתנגן בהם בצורה יותר קונקרטית. הלב מתעורר אליהם כשחג או שבת מתקרבים וצליליהם מרחפים לאוזניי, כמו תבשיל חם שהארומה שלו מרחפת מחלון בית. הם הונחו במדף צדדי ולא מרכזי בהוויה שלי מכמה סיבות: כשהתחלתי להיחשף לעולם החילוני, מצאתי עושר אחר שבא במקום זווית הראייה הדתית. ובנוסף לזה, הדת (והילדות) היו מלווים תמיד בהרבה רגשות שליליים, בהרבה כעס, מבוכה ורצון למצוא ייחודיות שתשחרר אותי מכבלי הפטריארכיה. התודעה שלי דחתה אלימות וכפייה ועימה גם היכולת לראות את הדת בתום של "דברי אלוהים חיים". עם הזמן, עם ההתרחקות, מצאתי את המקום המתאים לי בתוך רקמת הסקאלה הדתית.
אבל כשאותו ניחוח ישן בא אליי, או אותו זיכרון רוצה לחיות, או אני כמהה לאותו רעיון מתוק של קהילתיות יהודית, אני מוצאת את עצמי לא מוצאת את הדרך או המקום להשתלב ולהשתליו בו. בבתי כנסת אורתודוכסים הנשים יושבות מאחורה, ואני שם מתוסכלת מול הציפייה שארגיש מרוממת מקולם ומגבם של גברים מולי שמנהלים את תפילותיי ומבקשים שאפנה לבורא העולם בלשון זכר, כאבא. ובבתי כנסת אורתודוכסים אני גם לא יכולה לשבת עם בן זוגי. אבל גם בבתי כנסת שבהם אני יכולה לשבת עם בן זוגי, לפעמים הוא נדרש להתלבש בצורה מסוימת, לחבוש כיפה, כחלק מהרציונל של "לכבד את המקום שבו אתה נמצא." אבל אני נעמדת מול הבקשה הזו ושלוותי נעתקת (בניגוד לרצוני; אבל אני חייבת לתת לזה לגיטימציה ומקום), כי אני רוצה - חייבת - לבוא איך שאני, כמו שאני, מי שאני, בלי להצטרך להתכסות במלבושים אחרים, כדי לתקן את הכפייה, כדי לתת דרור לחירות שבי, כדי להרגיש את החיבור האישי שלי ליהדות.
כן מצאתי מקומות בודדים כאלו, בירושלים. קהילות שמתקרבות למה שהייתי רוצה לחוש. כאלה שאתה בא איך שאתה, שר ומשתתף איך שאתה רוצה. אבל לצערי הם עדיין לא לגמרי "זה", ואני גם לא גרה במרחק הליכה או רכיבה מהם. לצערי מקומות כאלו הם נדירים, הם נמצאים רק "פה ושם" ברחבי הארץ או העולם. כשנהיה בארה"ב ארצה מאוד להתחבר לקבוצות תפילה כאלו, אם אמצא.אני מרגישה את הנתק והתסכול הזה ביתר שאת היום ביום כיפור. אני נזכרת ב"כל נדרי" וב"ונתנה תוקף" וכמעט בוכה, כי אני כוספת לשמוע אותם, אבל אני בבית. אני קצת לבד, אני לא חלק מקהילה.
כנראה שעוד לא מצאתי את המקום המושלם בתוך מארג היהדות. אני תמיד בחיפוש. אולי עוד אנשים מזדהים עם התסכול. אולי לא.*(תוספת לאחר כמה זמן:)אני מרגישה רצון ונכונות לקחת צד אקטיבי בסיפור הזה ולייצר ערבי שירה ותפילה כמו שאני רואה ברוחי.אני מדמיינת את זה מחוץ לבית שלנו, במושב, בחורשה. אני רואה מחצלות פרושות, אני רואה אנשים יושבים פה ושם, נשענים על עצים. חלק הביאו כלי נגינה, חלק את קולם, חלק את רוחם, ואנחנו כולנו שרים ביחד.אתם חושבים שדבר כזה יכול לקרות?

Thursday, September 15, 2016

How Strange



September / אלול

How strange that a person can live so many lives in one lifetime.

And how strange how every present moment of the past is only a memory, and nothing more.

My body was in so many places

My body experienced pain and fear and helplessness and terror,

and shame and bitterness and joy and longing,

and yet now my body is only here, and knows only this.

How strange that at night I find peace in the warmth of Tal, but six years ago I was present at my own beautiful and ethereal wedding with someone else.

And how strange that we live on a moshav, where I breathe in colorful streams of sky and earth,
but two years ago I took a bus with my then-husband (and good friend until today) from our home in Jerusalem to the Rabbinate, in another neighborhood, to pay for our divorce.

How strange that Tal's voice is like dew in the early morning, but
fifteen years ago I felt so vulnerable.

I was so scared once. But how strange: I didn't even acknowledge it, and neither did anyone else.

And how strange that lots of fear became lots of anger, and yet I became loving instead of hateful.

How strange that one year ago I was in a place where I was both free and imprisoned, and neither free nor imprisoned, in another country, and now I'm here, dreaming of those same far places, but with someone I feel whole with.

And how strange that we want to travel around the world, but I can still
Feel
The knowledge of where I'll live, and it didn't include that.

How strange that I contemplate the new year, but every new year is another new year, and then I look in the mirror and try to figure out how 26 years have passed and how they are inscribed in my face and what I remember of all the moments-that-were-once-the-present.

And one thing hasn't changed:

Sometimes I feel so much inspiration in my tiny little heart (which has the capacity of containing the entire universe), that my heart wants to crack and cry and my stomach churns like butter.




Friday, September 02, 2016

Friday

Last week: This morning the bus driver was wearing Shoresh sandals, and that made me feel good.
And the song "Renegade" made me feel that it's okay to be crazy.



Today (a different day) a young man on the bus gave money to a man who didn't have enough to pay for the bus ride. The generous guy was wearing Shoresh sandals and that made me feel good.



On the train
.There are always families that make me feel uncomfortable
.The woman who physically held down her hyperactive son
The crop-duster (and the father to the child: "Look! A plane!")
The stains on the window which remind me of the maps of the destroyed lands from animal agriculture.
The mother's reason for not bothering others:
אל תפריע לאנשים, הם יכעסו. אתר רוצה שיכעסו עליך? 
(ואם לא יכעסו, ולא יביעו התנגדות, הוא יכול להפריע?! הסיבות המעוותות של הורים ישראלים למה לא לעשות דברים מעצבנים או פולשניים לאחרים.)



___


אני מנסה להילחם בזמן העובר. אני יכולה להעביר את היד שלי על גופו של טל למשך דקות ארוכות, מדיטציה של היאחזות ביופי הנוכחי. דברים מטרידים אותי ואין מושלמות, אבל יש את הגוף הרך והמופלא.
-האם הייתה לך פעם החלטה קשה בחיים? כזאת שאין בה אופציה מנצחת? לפעמים אני מרגישה שאני מיומנת בforks in the road. מהניסיון שלי, תמיד מה שמחליטים בסוף יוצא להיות הבחירה הטובה יותר. 


What are you thinking?
-I'm imagining I'm inside a big pit and someone is calling in, "Miriam! Miriam!" and I'm thinking, "is that me? Is that me?" It scares me when I feel a disconnectedness with my name.
-We're just another animal on earth
-our body is; not our תודעה (consciousness). Sometimes I feel literally locked inside my body. My consciousness wants to live outside the body, just a hovering mind. I see myself in third person, yet I am IN me. And my consciousness will die with my body, and that's scary.
-But why would you want your mind to be immortal?
-Like Godliness, that people believe has existed and will exist so long the world exists. When there is existence, there is תודעה (consciousness), and I'd want mine to be part of that foreverness.

I fall asleep slowly, I dream strange dreams I remember only in parts. Deep colors, a hotel manager who jokes that there are prostitutes on the train. My brother gives them a speech on how hotels in America are much better. We're here on some secret mission. I'm waiting for Tal. I say I'll pay for everyone but remember I don't have enough money. I do it anyway. Nemo is somewhere in the dream, and other people too, swirling around in strange strokes of panic and disconnectedness.
I wake up in the morning and all conscious thoughts come hovering back into my head. 

___




שִׁיר הַלֵּל לְטַל  /  מרים


שִׁיר הַלֵּל
לְטַל עַל שִׁיבּוֹלֵי זָהָב
לְרֵיחַ אֳרָנִים נוֹשַׁב
לְזִכְרוֹן גֶּשֶׁם, כּוֹכְבֵי מִדְבָּר
לְפִּרְפּוּרֵי אוֹר בֵּין עַנְפֵי הַבַּר.

שִׁיר עֶרֶשׂ
לְעוֹלָם שֶׁכֻּלּוֹ דְּבַשׁ וְדֶמַע
לְחוּשִׁים רוֹדְפֵי רֹךְ וְתֵמַהּ
לִימֵי חֲלוֹף, לְלֵּיל רוֹגֵעַ
אָזְלַת הַזְּמַן בֵּין עוֹר נוֹגֵעַ.

שִׁיר תִּקְוָה
שֶׁעֵינֵי הָתְכוֹל לֹא יִדֹּמּוּ נְכַר
שְעֳדְנוּת הַקֹּדֶשׁ לֹא תִּרְחַק מָחָר,
שְשׁכִינַת הַשַּׁלְוָה וּנְתִיבֵי הַתֹּם
יְמַלְאוּ הַטֶנֶא כל יום את היום.

___


It happens sometimes, for no apparent reason. The steams of anger, frustration, humility and anxiety take place in the heart. You go from one place to another to feel less abandoned, only to realize you are now even more alone. It's a horrible feeling and ironically it usually happens right after a few days of pure joy. The bad feelings set camp for a little while in the little tiny heart (which has capacity for containing the entire universe) and then pass on to someone else, I suppose... Sometimes you find that this is similar to dogs eating grass. They have something in their stomach trying to get out so they eat grass which helps them vomit. Maybe the tears during this morbid loneliness are actually covering many other things as well, and in that way, cleaning out my system from all hard feelings.

___


מה רציתי להגיד?
על אנשים שלא אכפת להם.

על אנשים שמשקרים ושגורמים לי לבכות.

אבל עדיף שלא אתמקד בזה אלא בשפע הטוב שבעולם, אפילו באותם אנשים ממש.
האיש במקום העבודה ששיקר לי ביום חמישי וגרם לכל הגוף שלי להזדעזע מתחושת בגידת אמון, הוא אדם מאוד מסור לעבודה שלו.

חשבתי לעצמי, "האם על דבר כזה קטן ושולי שווה לבכות ולצאת מוקדם מהעבודה?" לעניות דעתי, כן.

על איזה דברים צריך להזדעזע בעולם? 

על חוסר אמון, על חוסר כנות. לפחות בעולם שלי. אם אין כנות, מה יש?

והשפע שיש בעולם... כל כך הרבה שפע.

אנשים אהובים, יקירים, אדיבים וחמים, שאותם אני אוהבת ושאותי הם אוהבים. כשיש לך אנשים לפנות אליהם כאשר אתה פגוע, אתה חווה שפע. אתה מבין שחום הלב של אנשים הם מים גאים (מלשון גאות) שעוטפים את גדת נהר הלב שלך. 

כאשר אתה נמלא שלווה ממשמע קולו של אהובך, אתה חווה שפע.

כאשר יש לך אהוב אוהב, וכאשר יש לך חברים - ח-ב-ר-י-ם, שהם מחוברים, שהם חלק מנימי הקיום שלך ומפעימות הלב שלך, אתה חווה שפע!
ואתה יכול להגיד להם דברים אמיתיים, דברים כמשמעם, דברי הלב,
והם יכולים להגיד לך גם כן, איך הם באמת מרגישים ומה באמת שלומם,
ואתה יכול לדעת שגם אם הם לא אומרים, וגם אם אתה לא אומר, עדיין הידיעה קיימת שהאמת לאמיתה נמשכת ביניכם כרוח קדים.

אני יודעת שיש לבבות בעולם, שיש רגש בעולם. שיש את הנתיב הזה של הכֶּנות, שלא מאכזב אף פעם.



Monday, June 20, 2016

And so it is - revised (#3)




[I want to see if it is possible to live without writing all the time.]

I have decided to stop writing on my blog for now.

My blog has had ten years and one-hundred-and-forty-one days of active posting (which makes a total of about three-thousand-and-ninety-one days). 32572 pageviews and 1806 posts (including drafts). Openness and sincerity have both been my strange and awkward reasoning in life and on blog.
___

But
I have not written enough poems!

And
Did I write about the community compost project I initiated and am starting in my hometown (and about the group of environmental activists I put together)? 
I haven't written much about the plans for our 2017 in a mini-van in America, because we plan on opening a travel blog and writing about it there.

Did I ever write about how I used to imagine my life as words in a book? (This idea was written on a paper 8 years ago, and I lost the paper and with it the strength of it all.) And about how I do want some of me to be turned into a book?  Did I mention that I love working with children? That I want to study teaching and be a teacher? Do you know that my old bedroom is like a colorful museum of my life? And I haven't yet written the song I'm writing for Tal. I haven't even gotten a sound-recorder yet! I also wanted to write about the vulnerability of Being, did I do that? I wanted to share the video "Earthlings" so that other people would watch it, too. I haven't made enough art to share here. I want to record the sound of everything. I don't know if I have written enough about life (and about death)... Have I written enough about the inconsolable scariness of it all and also of the blissful loveliness of it? Have I written about depression? Have I written enough about love? Was I ever, oh ever, serene when writing a post, or am I always agitated or frustrated -- ever since eversinceness? Did I ever write about what's unfair in the world -- and about what's fair? And about leaving family? And about leaving parents -- about the era of intentional separation? Have I written enough thank-yous? Why no, I have not. I surely have not. I still have 1,234 or 5,678 more people to thank. Perhaps 9-10-11-12 thousand.
Have I said anything of meaning? Anything of importance? Anything of inspiration?

After reading my blog, do people still eat animals and knowingly pay for atrocities like animal exploitation? Why?

Can people change? Become stronger?
Will we? Will you?
Can writing make something in me immortal? Can I pretend - or believe - not all of me will die when I die?

Are there bad people who will use the information on this blog against me?
Will I be sorry about my sincerity and naivety that came through in this personal blog? Is there any reason in the world to be sorry for such things?
Will someone use my fearfulness to scare me? 
My vulnerability to hurt me?
Will the world share with me the same innocence I tend to share with it?
Is it so that the fragility and compassion I hold toward the world will always be a mirror of how the world will treat me? Can it be so?

Can people be kind and soft-spoken while speaking to me? Can I ask the world- Oh, Goodness, Please? 

_____

Thank you #5,679: Thank you to all my readers.


___
My travel blog from my USA travels in 2015:
http://miriamusa2015.blogspot.co.il/
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26/6/2016 Fear
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You know how sometimes the physical and mental space you live in automatically makes you cheery when you wake up inside of it in the morning, and sometimes it does not? That was an important realization for me; if I don't wake up in a fine state of sunniness, my surroundings are not in a good state of 'feng shui'. Whether it be the mess, the heat, the smallness of the home, the fear and anxiety I feel toward almost everything I do.  What am I scared of? I need to wake up, smile deeply, and tell myself: There is nothing to be afraid of. Nothing and no one should take me out of my Me-ness. I have suffiecient Me-ness and somebodyness to be strong throughout the entire day. I do not need to fear authority. I do not need to fear feeling small, for I am not small.
I fear the speed of time passing. I feel the rushing of it in physical waves. As I get older, it seems that time passes faster with such urgency; much more urgent that the positive energies I am able to conceive.
I feel that I spend too much time worrying and being afraid of death, instead of being able to climb above the sphere of this anxiety and be the cultivator of a much larger and happier faith.
I know that a perfect Love is not enough to hold me in a place of Carpe Diem and present serenity. Something more is needed to make me be Here, be Now.
Something more, beyond the mess and the fear and the time passing. Something I guess I have not yet found.
I try to fumble through the things I do, like searching for a small pain-killer inside a bag, pulling out old papers and unimportant things, trying to figure out "what are the things that truly make me happy?" I want to surround myself in those things, if only I knew what they were.
I'm afraid of speaking to adults, and yet speaking to other adults is a fundamental part of living and of working.
I wish I wasn't afraid. I wish I was fearless, omnipotent, invincible, able and willing, optimistic and positive in a world of sadness and stress, strong and courageous in my little shell of insecurity.
Writing this makes me feel stronger, in the small space I have to breath inside my home. Words have always been my anchor to something more stable. I'm writing and it's as if the meaning comes to life; the words are in real form, creating themselves in my heart like a vaccine, immunizing my blood system against further fear.
There is no reason for me to feel restrained. I'm a free, free, free human being.

___
8-7-16

And then I started working in a place I love.
There's a guy there who's doing community service. When he complained about how he hates being there, I immediately exclaimed, "but it's great here!" And he said, "for you maybe... Look, we both come to the same place in the morning. You feel good and come with a smile, and I hate it here..."
And I said, "I completely understand you", because I do. It's just that.
It's so individual.
I guess that's it.
I've learned that everything is so individual. Morals and ideals and taste and happiness. And there's really no place for judging other people. There's nothing absolute, there's only how you Feel.


Sunday, June 12, 2016

Freeganism :)



Okay guys. I'm no longer a vegan. I'm a freegan :) 
It's what I believe in. I just found that there's a word for it!


http://trashwiki.org/en/Freeganism


Did you know that in the US around 30% of all consumed food is thrown in the trash? That's enough to feed millions of hungry people.




Friday, June 10, 2016

Hatred vs. Peace


This week there was a terrorist attack in the heart of Tel Aviv, four people were killed and many more were injured.


I don't know how to go about this.


It is too heavy, as is all of the politics here. I usually do not get into it. I both agree and disagree with everyone. Everyone has some truth at their sincere standpoint; it's legitimate to be afraid of radical Islam, it's also legitimate to stay away from any biases against any religions. But in the meantime Palestinian terrorists are killing Israelis (and in some places around the world Muslim people associated with IS and the like are killing people).


I am both right-wing and left-wing, depending on the specific issue at hand. In politics my only permanent and unchanging flag is human rights, and on every other issue it goes "כל מקרה לגופו". I don't belong to a specific political agenda in its entirety. I try to recognize what I think about every separate issue and not pull my opinion out of a molded agenda.


I am against violence and terrorism.

I am in favor of multicultural synthesis.
I believe that by knowing the other we will prevent hatred and fear and cultivate peace.

A video article came out this week stating that most of the school students in Jerusalem are now either ultra-orthodox or Arab - I think about 77% (the regular secular or religious children are now the minority! And the bilingual and multicultural schools are the minority of the minority!). They videoed students in both kinds of schools, saying horrible things about the others, out of complete ignorance. Most of them have never met a person from the other religion. And they live in the same city!!!


This post is written in gray because politics is gray in the sense of gloominess, and it's gray in the sense of not black-and-white. And also in the sense that I'm not sure I like talking about politics, so it's only half here.



Determinism


I wonder if my moral decisions are actually decisions.

I remember learning about determinism in mechina, through the imagery of a ball flying through the air. The landing point is known, by physical calculations, but to the ball- it is soaring freely through space.

I wonder what actually determines what brings moral people to moral decisions and immoral people to immoral decisions.

A moral decision seems to me more like a moral duty, which by not obeying I am actually fighting my conscience and I therefore actually have no decision to make but to do the moral option.

Veganism, for instance. Once I was exposed to the atrocities in the animal industries, I did not sit down with myself and debate whether veganism was the right thing to do. But rather, as soon as those truths were known to me, it was in fact the only decision my conscience would let me take.
Likewise with other things like helping a person in distress or a helpless being, when it does not contradict my own well-being.

I am not saying this to gain a pat on the back, "oh, you're so wonderful." No. I'm saying this because I want to get to the root and source of our decision-making, of our actions in a world where bad and good are separated. I am trying to understand what leads us to "good" or to "bad", to "moral" or to "immoral", and if it is something already determined the minute we are born, or perhaps in the way we are brought up. And then in that sense, I'd like to understand if a person truly can change his or her ways.

And I'd like to say that I cannot take credit for any morality, for any goodness I do. I really do not feel responsible for it, as it is the only path I can take. It requires no courage or bravery whatsoever.
It would be hard for me to choose otherwise.

To me it seems there is something in my conscience that doesn't allow me to do certain things, and urges me to do others. It's hard to say if that "conscience" developed over years, by my parents and other social frameworks, or is part of my genetic DNA.

I do have this strange sense that everything is determined ahead of time, from the smallest things like the breaths we take, all the way to social change and revolutions, just like that ball, whose path through space is scientifically absolute.

In any case, I of course won't be idle and I will still advocate social change, even though all the change that is and that will be is already determined.

And may good prevail :)




Friday, June 03, 2016

Yogurt

You know those times when you write too much on your blog and you feel too exposed but then don't feel right reverting to drafts, because then the implication would be that aesthetics and convenience are more important than authenticity?

Well here's some (vegan) frozen yogurt!





I am so in love with this human being.





Wednesday, June 01, 2016


Anxiety (or: Part 4)


I never knew how to explain or diagnose the anxiety or fear [ + radical emotionalism] I suffered. One of its peaks was during the army. I didn't even call it anxiety yet, I didn't know what to call it. I didn't know how to explain why I was so overwhelmed and sad and crying all the time like a lost child for almost two years (that's what I was; that's how I felt. So helpless! Walking around feeling afraid!), while other people had to do those occasional week-long guarding jobs and weekends on base instead of me because I just couldn't.

Only after I left I called it anxiety and wanted to write letters to my commanders explaining this, to soften the image I thought they must have had of me of someone weak or even spoiled who couldn't deal with anything and got to be exempted from annoying tasks. At least saying you have something specific sounds more serious. I didn't write the letters, and it became not important after a while.

I sometimes feel fearful and very anxious.
And once in a long while it escalates to a state of mental suffering and helplessness.
It happens when I'm unable to get to a "safe place" or when I have to face authority.

I think there is a combination of different anxieties in me.
And there is something a little bipolar about me, too.

Sometimes I get so sad, just sad, from all the anxiety and stress of being, that I cry and cry and cry and say awful things like that I don't know why I'm even alive.

And then I get to my safe zone, like home. And I do something familiar, like taking a shower, and it's as if these waters of safety and assurance just wash away the anxiety, and I come out feeling totally different, not even able to understand how I'd felt so horrible beforehand.

It's strange.

After the horrible anxiety, my mind inevitably calms down again. It gets to its worst point, and then declines. When the anxiety happens, I just have to learn to be patient and live it out, wait the long hours until it passes, until I calm down again. It always happens, it always ends. I'm always happy again eventually.

___


Sometimes I just need to tell my dearest beloved life partner, "when this happens, just help me pass the hours until it goes away."







Tuesday, May 31, 2016

Part 3

I have anxiety when working under the authority, demands and surveillance of other people (i.e. any job). I have anxiety from people of authority in general.


Tuesday, May 24, 2016

Sneakpeak

I can't fall asleep because I'm too excited. It happens sometimes.
USA in a minivan!
I'm excited also because the compost project I'm heading in Beit Shemesh (plus another project of planting fruit trees around the city) is going to happen! More about this in another post...

Monday, May 23, 2016

Words float out of me slowly, part 2



I realize that the verbal impediment probably stems from the same place as my anxiety from interactions with people.
Not all people.
There are some people who I meet and feel very comfortable with. These are usually soft-spoken, patient, calm, sweet people, who make their tolerance, attentiveness and empathy a lifestyle.
But many people I encounter - bosses, for instance, or people with authority or power over me - make me feel so frightened, so anxious, so conscientious, that I find myself dreading every confrontation with them, not finding words to express anything, not wanting to express anything, being so careful, and tiptoeing around my own self like a thief.
And on those rare occasions when I do happen to meet wondrous people who make me feel at home, it makes me so joyful that I nearly skip all the way home and I tell Tal all about it.



(Photo I took in Lithuania)




Thursday, May 19, 2016

Tuesday, May 17, 2016

Words float out of me slowly, part 1



So, what's your part in this? Who are you?

I was asked by a lovely woman who comes to the meetings I organize for environmental activism in my hometown and lends good and poignant ideas. 

Because basically, I'm this random young woman here who put together a group of people and is organizing these meetings and trying to start environmental projects in my town, and she doesn't actually know who I am and where I popped out from all of a sudden. 

But when people ask me a question off guard, I cannot properly answer. Heck, even when people ask me a question not off guard, I cannot properly answer.

I have difficulty locating words from my brain while speaking (especially to strangers and to adults). I once read this problem as a characteristic of introvert-ism, and I don't know if that is the case, but I know that this is a problem I have. It makes me feel stupid in the eyes of others; I know what I want to say or what information I have to share, but I can't seem to pull the words out correctly. Sometimes I mess up feminine and masculine in Hebrew, with words that in writing I'd never mistake. I try to talk slowly so that the words will have time to come to the surface and out of my mouth, but sometimes they never come out and then I am left with long pauses I can't seem to fill. 

Verbal ability is basic and crucial in our daily lives, but I find myself stumbling through verbality with a lot of frustration. 

Despite this obstacle, which has been evident to me for many years, the fields I find most important to immerse myself in are ones which require communicating verbally with many other people. I am knowingly challenging my difficulty, and I feel that the challenge is worth while. It surprises me sometimes that we humans are able to face our fears and do things we believe in despite them. 

I have been working in education with children for many years, which I love, but in frameworks that require a lot of talking to adults, too. And recently I decided to put together a group of people in our town interested in getting involved in environmental activism, and I lead these meetings and need to actually talk to people I'm not familiar with, about issues I'm not 100% certain of (being not 100% certain about something strengthens the weakness, by adding the fucked up shade of insecurity to the already claustrophobic words).

I used to say that doing these things works on my Courage muscles, and I used to like to believe that working on those muscles makes them stronger, but their strengthening is slower than I'd always wanted or expected. 

It's true that I used to almost faint before having to speak in public, or I had to write out phone conversations word for word before I was able to muster up the courage to dial to someone unfamiliar (and not hang up before they answered), and now I don't feel lightheaded, only nervous, when I need to speak (and I force myself to be in situations in which I need to speak because it's important to me), and I'm able to make phone calls sometimes without planning out every word. But I'm still scared, I'm still insecure, I'm still expecting too much of words that are nestled deeply in my head and nervously hide from other people.

I can write. It's what I do. And I wish I could go through life writing instead of speaking. I wish I could convey ideas and morals through writing, I wish I could convince people of things through writing. But sometimes it seems I just have to make those phone calls, and lead those meetings, and say "Thank you" face to face to people I really want to thank all the time.

Spoken words float out of me slowly.



(Photos from Lithuania last week)

Sunday, May 15, 2016




______________
היש אדם מתוק ויפה ממנו?
ואיך ייתכן, ואיך זכיתי, שדרכו של אותו האדם המתוק והיפה ביותר הצטלבה עם דרכי?
______________



Lietuva / Lithuania



Saturday, April 23, 2016

Friday, April 22, 2016

Sunday, April 17, 2016

Saturday, April 16, 2016

Tuesday, April 12, 2016

Last night I had a scary dream. In my dream I tragically and accidentally blew up the house I was in, and I jumped out the window but the fire caught me anyway in a gust that shot out and came right at me.





Rain

I ride three time a week to a nearby moshav to take care of a little girl.
The highway shoulder is wide and the ride is scenic, and today it rained on the way home.




Saturday, April 09, 2016

Love


It's frustrating that in our world, where unintentional pretense and confusion exist innately in us, there is no easy way to express or externalize a sincere solidity of right decisions when they do happen (and that there is always a need in me to do so). In the circles broader and outer than those of closest friends and my lover, there is no obvious way to differentiate between real and unreal. 
What differs, externally, between my two past relationships? The trueness of one over the other cannot be portrayed to others through regular behavior and fluid conversations, but rather only through specific and direct words, such as these:

Tal is wonderful and kind in every way that I need, in every way that I like, in every way that I cannot imagine but sweetly surprises me. And I take none of it for granted.

Can these words be believed?
If they cannot, what can?

I have not written things like these in quite a while, and I feel that sweetness has taken shore upon me, that love and happiness are flowing between our small beings, that goodness is evolving every day.

Between us, it can be known easily. It is unlike those silent battles against the larger world to express realness. Between us, all this goodness is known and thanked for, it is said and shared, it is sweetened from our vocal chords out into the small space between our lips and our lover's ear.

Between us it is so real that words often fail us and we are left to only

Feel

In the warm and safe, yet mortal, arms of one another.

__

But this time (unlike the others, but as a result of them), I must admit, I am a little scared of declaring a lifetime of it. I am hesitant about claiming it is forever, as forever changes, and we may change, too.
I am even scared of thinking about it. I am scared thinking about the fact that permanence is only valid while it is.

I am scared of having children. I am scared of myself with children. 
I want to keep talking about them
But to not have them yet
Or ever.