I am nervous about packing too much and packing too little. About where I'm staying and with whom and for how long and if I'll be lonely and if I'll forget about friends I should visit and if I'll waste my phone minutes trying to contact everyone. About how often I'll get wifi so I can instagram and check facebook. About being too hot or too cold or both. About airport security and delays and jetlag and making the most of my 10 hour layover in Amsterdam. About not spending enough money because I'm scared of doing the conversion math and spending too much money because I'm scared of doing the conversion math.
And I'm sad about all the things I leave behind: the comforts of home, my parents, my kitties and--yes--even my parrot. My bed, my car, my license, my favorite restaurants, my language, my radio stations, my closet, my neighborhood, my electrical outlets, my city. My data plan, my time zone, my collection of shoes. My free time, my DVR, my TV shows, my flat running route, my friends.
(When I left for my gap year in 2009, I actually made a very comprehensive list of all the things I'd miss. The list included Rochester's highways, humidity, and the Monroe County Democratic Committee. I am what I am...)
So I've had a lot on my mind lately. But something happened today at brunch.
My friend Paulette started telling me about her friend who made alliyah and now lives in Jerusalem. Paulette described how totally surreal it must be to live in Jerusalem, the Holy City, a place so incredibly important and sacred to so many different people. She spoke of the intensity one feels there. She asked me to bring her back something as a token, and she gave me a note to put into the wall.
If she hadn't given me that note, I'm not sure I would have even gone to the Kotel.
Paulette reminded me why I LOVE Israel, and why it is so important to me. Somehow, during all of these preparations, I managed to neglect any preparation of my spirit. Over the last two years, I have spent so much time defending Israel, learning about Israel, lobbying for Israel, reading about Israel...that I forgot how to drop the politics and use my heart.
For the first time in a long time, I am remembering what it's like to FEEL Israel. The sun on my skin, the crowds invading my personal space on buses, my sandals slapping down hard on Jerusalem stone. I remember walking aimlessly around the beautiful cities, observing the shopkeepers and the stray cats and the gaggles of children. I remember that at some point in my life I had a sense of what it meant to spend 70NIS without doing any conversion math. I remember falling in love in Israel (more than once), spending Shabbat with my host family in Yerucham, and meeting some of the most fiercely loyal friends I will ever have.
Israel is my land of dreams, and I am so blessed to be returning home for seven weeks this summer. And I am ever, ever so grateful that Paulette reminded me of that this morning, for I had almost forgotten...
אִם אֶשְׁכָּחֵךְ יְרוּשָׁלָיִם, תִּשְׁכַּח יְמִינִי
תִּדְבַּק לְשׁוֹנִי לְחִכִּי אִם לֹא אֶזְכְּרֵכִי
אִם לֹא אַעֲלֶה אֶת יְרוּשָׁלַֽיִם עַל רֹאשׁ שִׂמְחָתִי
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