SHABBES IN THE LAND

B"H


Saturday, August 16th

I woke at 3:30 p.m... So much for shul. I had a torrid affair with the Sandman once I finally fell into repose & that's all that matters. I don't wish to recall any of my dreams as they were all about my falling short, of my weaknesses being exposed to my ego & of my generally lacking in integrity. So I washed & davened. Their ghosts let me alone. I spent the entire day reading the book that Susan handed me at the blessing circle send-off the Kadima WTP committee gave me so graciously. "Lovesong: Becoming a Jew" by Julius Lester. I was happy that she gave me this book to reach out in hopes of making a connexion between us. & I was curious about its contents - she said she could barely put it down. She's right. There's an uncanny amount of my journey which resembles that of this African-American writer of my mother's generation. An unsurprising amount that does not. Of all the beautifully expressed thoughts & feelings in this missive, the one that bears repeating aloud is, "It is not enough to simply love another; I must learn to love as that other needs to be loved. If I do not, my love is merely an emotional generalization, suitable for all & mattering to none." Barukh HaShem.
I partook of my requisite mitzvot (commandments) today, meals & davenen (prayers). Had a schluf (nap) & read Lester's book cover to cover.
2 siren blasts announced the end of Shabbat. I hadn't recalled this from the year I lived here before, so I sat & patiently listened to the world outside my flat to give me indicators. Within a couple of minutes I heard people getting into their cars & driving off, folks calling to each other in the street & general party noises coming off of the main road. So I said barukh hamavdil & adjusted the fan & air conditioning.
My girlfriend called & we made plans for tomorrow. We're going to meet up in the late morning here & then go souvenir shopping on Ben Yehudah. Maybe catchup with some Israeli girlfriends, too.
I've made myself some green tea & am going to laze out on the mirpeset now.
Shavu'ah tov!
I called Mum & we chatted for over an hour. She told me about a play she went to see at the Langham Court called "Mr. Green", starring Howie Siegel. She said he was playing a 88-year-old man & that he deserved an academy award. I think Howie's terrific & he & Marion have only ever had glowing things to say about Dad in the time they knew him. Anyway, the play sounded fantastic, so I'll keep an eye out for the script as I'd like to read it one day.
Mum also went on a tirade about how nobody can really grow up until their mother is dead. "Are you trying to tell me something?" I suggest that losing either parent is earth-shaking &, not to undermine her claim about mothers, broach the subject of facing one's own mortality. She veers off onto another, unrelated, topic.
Got to talk with my great-niece as well. She was busy trying to save an ant which she found in the bathroom, but Mum told her to flush it :(
This makes me feel really sad.
I unpacked & sorted my laundry.
I put my ALEPH magnet I got at Kallah on the fridge.
I wrote.
I listened to the furious clawing & bumping on the red clay tiles over my head.