Ahab

 I made it to my sister over the weekend (the weekend here, for those who don't know, is Friday night and Saturday.)  Friday morning she called and said 'come - over life and death.' I was truly petrified, but packed my overnight bag with extra things, in case, and ordered a Gett.  (That is the taxi service.) 

I have found them to be a reliable service, this time, no sooner had I ordered it than Ahmad, the driver arrived. He happened to be in the vicinity and really needs work.  I told him I am scared and he said not to worry, not many cars are on the roads and if there is a sirenWaze will guide us to a shelter.

We arrive quickly, without trouble.  That afternoon we lay in our respective rooms to rest. Aat 3.30 I was disturbed from my nap by a loud banging on my door - my sister came in. "Didn't your alarm go off? We have to get ready for the shelter." My alarm hadn't gone off.  As the shelter is in their house there was nothing to get ready, we just went downstairs with our phones.  Then all our sirens went off simultaneously. I have to say - it was a nice change, being with them, lying on a mattress.  A small cosy comfort. That night at 2.30 am my alarm did go off - back downstairs we went.   

It was there, in the shelter, that I said to my sister that I feel that Bibi Netanyahu has been obsessed with Iran, like Ahab with Moby Dick.   By this statement I was NOT whitewashing Iran who have been responsible for the bombing of the synagogue in Argentina, many other things, and of course the 7th October - but why now?  Bibi is up for trial,  he is going down in the polls, what a brilliant way to divert the world's attention. He has a madman in America to back him.  And now we have yet another front to contend with. Gaza should be OVER and the 50 hostages, dead or alive, returned.  Finished. Done with.

I feel that the world is desperately in need of a sane and wise leader, and we have none. Just power hungry, money crazed narcissists who don't care if they sacrifice their people or the world. 

It is NOT a comforting feeling, and we sit under bombardments, day and night.

 PRAYERS FOR SANITY.

OCD

I cannot remember how often we had to go to the shelter last night, actually yesterday we had to go in at 8.30 a.m. The next round was, I think 5.00 p..m. At 9.30 I texted my sister to ask (not for her permission, just to check in) whether 9.30 is way too early to go to sleep.  When life is 'normal', I go to sleep about 12.00 p.m.  But life is no longer even approaching the what wasn't normal anyway, existence of our previous life.  I did not wait for her reply,, but simply fell, exhausted onto my bed, only to be jarred into a state of adrenaline filled alertness by the 'warning' siren about half an hour later.  

We constantly receive updated alert systems from the Home Front Command app.  5 days ago we would receive a rattlesnake-like sound which meant that missiles have been triggered and we should get ready to go to a shelter. It may take 30 minutes until we get the next siren which means we have 90 seconds to get to the shelter.  Now we have 10 minutes instead of 30. And we are told that lives are saved by going to a shelter. We see pictures of destroyed buildings in which families have survived because they were in the shelter.  Of course even the best shelter cannot survive a direct hit.  We are shown pictures of those too, along with the names of the dead. 

What do we do in the shelter? We sit in a sort of a circle on not very comfortable chairs. One or two people are wheeled in by their caregivers. We all look at each other sleepily and mumble something like "here we go again," or something similar. I bring a book, but I can't really concentrate. We used to leave after 10 minutes when it was just the Houthis firing at us - they still continue their fire, but of course most of the missiles now come from Iran.  We cannot leave until we get a message from the Home Front Command saying we can leave.  Sometimes we sit for an hour or more - sometimes less, each time is different.

 One of the 'residents' is 96 years old, and quite demented. Her caregiver is an angel from Kerala. The woman, Tamar, stands up after sitting a few minutes and asks where her dog, Toffee, is. Toffee is scared of people so he stays at home, unlike Chungi a pekingese mix who loves greeting everyone and comes up to each resident to have her belly rubbed. 

"Where's Toffee?" asks Tamar.  

"At home" says her caregiver.

"Does she know I will be back?"

"Yes, she is sleeping anyway.

Then Tamar becomes increasingly anxious - "Why are all these people sitting around with long faces. The All clear has sounded."  (It hasn't) and anyway there is not an all clear. She pushes herself up, takes hold of her walker and walks toward the door. Her caregiver gently steers her back to her chair. This becomes a sort of non stop dance until we do get permission to leave or Tamar howls saying she. has to go to the toilet.

When eventually we do get the OK to leave we all say to each other "hope not to see you soon."

This is our new life. I still go to the gym - thank goodness it is open, and I try to paint and knit and do my daily meditation I go to Feldenkrais, and Arabic. There is no ceramics or hothouse work as the instructors cannot get here safely.  

Today, as I hung the laundry, cleaned the perfectly clean cutlery drawer, dusted the perfectly clean contents of my room, straigtened straight pictures and objects, I realised I am doing what I did after I was told my husband was killed, and during the First Gulf War when I was in Israel and Iraq was sending the scud missiles.  I am desperately trying to maintain a semblance of order in this chaotic existence.

I clean and organize what I can in my external surrounding.

 Isn't this what people with OCD do?

The Unblog-able.

Strange title - of course I made the word up. It is based on some inner feeling or working of my sub conscious. All is UN - unbelievable, unblog-able, unforgivable. This is how I feel - no clarity, nothing to hold on to. The mundane continues, of course, and life is lived.  Books are read, art is seen  and looked at, and something is felt in response. Music is listened to. Gardens are grown.  Holidays are observed (celebrated is NOT a word I can use at this time).  The spelling bee is played by me, faithfully, every day for the last few year now.

I had an eye infection, and it was attended to, and is now better. I went to Budapest for a few days, and enjoyed walking around the lovely and interesting city and took pleasure in a refreshing break from the constant stress of life here. Of course I instantly fell back into it. The taxi driver who took me back from the airport saw to that as he lectured me on the absolute necessity of this political war and how we should crush our enemies.  I informed him that I do not feel the same way and tried to maintain silence, but he had a dreadful habit of asking me questions and waiting for my answers.  Hmms and sighs were NOT going to suffice.

The Houthis are in the habit of a missile a night, it seems.  Also we now have an updated app from the Home Front Command.  When it has been detected that a missile has been sent we receive an alert that in the next 5 minutes the sirens will probably sound and we must go to the nearest shelter.  This is to give us time to prepare and get to a shelter safely, but sometimes the missile is intercepted and the alarms don't sound.  I don't know what is more adrenaline producing for me - the warning, or the alarm without a warning.

We are traumatised, we are grieving, we await the remaining 58 hostages, we shout our protests,  We watch what is happening in Gaza and the West Bank in horror.  We watch the Haredim refuse to fight while our young men are dying and being wounded and go crazy.  

This is the unblog-able.

The Scream

 The Scream, by Edvard Munch.

This is what I feel like - holding my disintegrating self together and screaming.

We are being beset by the plagues of Egypt - fires, floods,  famine, brothers fighting brothers, (apologies for masculine form only) missiles, teacher strikes, the slaughter of innocents, the cry of hundreds of thousands at the demonstrations.  Everything falls on deaf ears and non seeing eyes. ENOUGH 

60,000 exhausted reservists have been called up - again . They have to leave their families, their businesses, their homes, whilst seeing their religious counterparts being exempt from service. 

On the eve of Yom HaZikaron - the most traumatic, wrenching day of the year - many of us chose to watch the joint Israeli-Palestinian ceremony which was on zoom, instead of listening to the empty meaningless words of the ministers on Mt. Herzl.  People met at various places to watch the ceremony together.  At a reform temple in Raanana the audience was harassed by young settler who threw fireworks at them and wouldn't let them go to their cars.  The police, under the 'watch' of Ben Gvir, did nothing to help them.

In yesterday's cabinet meeting it was decided upon, unanimously, to expand operations in Gaza.  What for?   To occupy Gaza? to settle there? to expel and starve every last inhabitant? Oh yes, they mentioned the 59 hostages only as an afterthought.  Tthe families of the hostages and almost all of the people of Israel who plead for their release are being tortured.   

And yesterday the Houthis succeeded in sending a missile to Ben Gurion Airport - once again, flights have been canceled. Again we are in the shelters.  We are above ground in a long dark tunnel whilst the hostages are underground being tortured.

Hence The Scream.

Holocaust Memorial Day

I choose today to pour my heart out. I know some people may take umbrage at what I have to say - for this, I am sorry, but if I keep my thoughts and feelings inside, I will make myself sick.

I have just attended a moving Holocaust Memorial ceremony here, where I live.  There are many residents still alive, who came out of the horrors and ashes of Europe and Greece. Some never spoke about it again, others told their stories.  Many souls remain lost and wondering. But one thing seems to have united us as a people - the thought of "never again".

My deep sadness is in humanity as a whole - apparently we have not learned anything from the past. The 'never again' has happened in Rwanda, in Cambodia, in China, in Sudan, in Israel, in Gaza, the West Bank. It is happening to mother earth - we have plundered, raped, pillaged, polluted, choked our mother, and her children.

The only stories that have brought me a modicum of joy in the past two weeks are those of animals : the elephants in San Diego Zoo encircling and protecting their young during the earthquake.  Billy, the three and a half year old King Charles Cavalier Spaniel being returned to his owners on Kibbutz Nir Oz.  He was captured on that terrible black day of October 7th 2023, and taken as a hostage to Rafah.  He attached himself to the Israeli soldiers who identified him via his chip and brought him home a week ago.  His little tail propelled like a helicopter as he was held by his owners who thought they had lost him, along with their home and their grandfather. 

My heart screams out for those slaughtered in Gaza, but I can't say this to everyone. I am accused of not remembering what they did.  Of course I remember, I won't ever forget,  but how can we continue slaughtering? what do we gain?  No one has been able to convince me that anything is gained. I don't think our 'leaders' Bibi and Trump are anomalies - they represent what we have become. Greedy, power hungry, blind to anyone but themselves.

Many days all I want to do is pull the covers over my head and remain there, driving out the constant sound of the planes overhead, the occasional siren, the grief, the fear, but this I cannot and must not do.  As T.S. Eliot said:  "Humankind cannot bear much reality," but I owe it to my ancestors and our children to carry on. I can choose to learn from the late Pope Francis, the Dalai Lama, Nelson Mandela - there are beacons of light in the dark, if we follow them, we too may see the light.

Pesach 2025

 

Pesach, Passover - is the holiday of the celebration from slavery - the celebration of freedom.  No one I know is in a celebratory mood this year.  The hostages are lying in the tunnels of Gaza - the second Passover already.  We are still fighting in Gaza - for goodness knows what reason. Nothing much is left there - tunnels, rubble, death. 

 I have one prayer this Pesach - bring the hostages back home, those who are still alive and those who aren't, and STOP the fighting. 

Shabat, Shoshan Purim

 80 degrees today - cooler than yesterday, which topped 90 degrees.  Last night a full, blood moon, velvet sky dotted with stars that managed to shine through, despite the full and gloriously compelling moon. I sat outside and breathed in the moon and stars, the white blossoms on my clementine tree just beginning to boast their fragrance. 

Today I ate breakfast on my patio,  and enjoyed the shabat quiet. The cooing of birds, the hum of the bees flying in the kumquat and clementine trees. The bosmat is blooming, the begonias flow over the pots, the loouisa and mint are starting up again. Last year I planted one cutting of a shrub that deters mosquitoes - I do not know its name, but it has grown thick and lush, and now has purple flowers.  I really don't know whether it is because of the shrub or the season, but I am able to sit outside without being bitten alive.  So peaceful, so quiet. Every now and then a plane shrieks overhead, taking me out of my comforting state of denial. I am on a news 'fast.' The book I read is Amy Tan's "The Backyard Bird Chronicles" sent to me by a dear friend. Just for now, just for today I look at a tiny little worm squiggling in the air, suspended by goodness knows what, from the clementine tree. It is about 1/4" long and no more than 1/2 millimeter wide, and its body undulates vertically. I wonder what it is and what it is doing, and whether it will survive.

Just for now I imagine the planes I hear are people having fun in the flying field of a neighbouring moshav. Just for today I try not to think of the hostages, of their families, of what is happening in the West Bank, in Gaza, in Lebanon, in Syria. Just for today I do not think of Bibi and what he has done and is doing to us. I do not think of the Orange haired Monster, the South African madman, Putin, Orban - just for today the ever present tears and pain lie quiescent.

Just for today, for now, for this moment.