Yesterday marked exactly two years since the "Black Shabat" - the slaughter of the innocents.
Two extremely difficult years. Two traumatic years. I find myself at some indescribable point - where I feel I cannot absorb much more. I do neither feel numb, nor necessarily depressed, more like a functioning zombie.
I went to Ein Dor for Yom Kippur and as ever it like being in a warm blanket with friends in familiar surroundings. The services were meaningful, my visit to the ever expanding ceremony comforting in its strange way. Everything familiar, and yet so very different. The bus ride is different - the Arab villages are now much larger. Afula is a growing town, with endless traffic, new aparatments and shopping centres everywhere.
On Yom Kipur we think of forgiveness, of morality, of justice?????
And now it is Succot - we are reminded that existence is temporary and impermanent - as if we are not reminded of this every minute of every day.
And once again we wait for bated breath to hear whether the hostages will be released - exchanged for prisoners. Whether there will be a cease fire? And I think of the players in this 'deal' - Trump, Bibi, Hamas, Jared Kushner, Erdogan, The Quattaris, the Saudi Arabians, the Egyptians, Ben Gvir, Smotrich - THESE are the players - what on earth can we expect from this obscene theatre of the absurd?
And then last night the families of the hostages held their ceremony from Park Hayarkon in Tel Aviv, and we see the truly beautiful, brave, inspiring side of Israel. The depth of the suffering. The need for this all to end - to rebuild, to return to the light and the truth.
Will this happen?
