Greetings, friends! I guess I can reveal my big news now that everyone who needs to know, knows. Exactly one month from now, I will be at my cousin's house in Rosh Ha'ayin, just about an hour away from my new home in Jerusalem. Wait, whaa?! Yes, you read that right. Yes, I typed that right. I'm moving to Israel for graduate school, and to begin work on my Shabbat Research/Memoir project-book-thing.
I'm finally taking that huge leap of faith, and throwing myself into the unknown. And let me tell ya'll a little something. I am terrified (the good kind, but still).
How does one prepare to go from the complete comforts of home, into a new country? Hello, culture shock! Fortunately, I'm no stranger to Israel, and I've got family and friends there to help me with the transition. Those hebrew language immersion classes should be pretty useful, too. Five hours a day, five days a week. Think I'll pick it up? In case I have any trouble, I can always refer back to "All My Yeladim." That should help. At the very least, maybe I'll land a starring role on an Israeli Soap Opera?
Anyway, I've been super busy shopping, making appointments, and trying to get all the details in order. I think I need to just get over the fact that I am bound to forget SOMETHING. I am overwhelmed by the details, but when I think about where I am going, and how long I've dreamed of this....I am giddy. Like...heart-racing, stomach-churning, giggles-galore giddy.
The first time I went to Israel I was seventeen. For 6 weeks I travelled the country with my youth group, exploring the land, and walking among the history. The first time I saw the Western Wall (The Kotel), I froze. I felt my whole existence fill with overwhelming love, and I wept. My hands touched the ancient stone, and I was suddenly lost in prayer. Twenty minutes or so later, I backed away from the Wall, feeling thoroughly cleansed, and completely loved. I fell deeply in love with the land of Israel during that trip. On my last night there, I sat on a hill overlooking Jerusalem. The air was cold, but sweet. I watched the lights of Jerusalem twinkle in the distance, and I made a silent vow that I would be back someday. The idea of leaving made my heart ache, but knowing that I'd be back made it easier to walk inside when my limbs were sufficiently frozen. I boarded the plane the next morning, with the rest of my group, and as I watched the land I had grown to know and love fall into the horizon, I said "I'll see you soon."
The second time I went, I was twenty-one. I went with my family, and we toured the country for two weeks. We wound up staying two nights in that same hotel, and I revisited my little hilltop. "I told you I'd be back", I whispered into the wind, knowing that this short visit wasn't enough.
I almost didn't come home from that trip. The night before we left, I sat up wondering what would happen if I didn't get on the plane. I talked myself out of it, knowing I had responsibilities, school, friends...I couldn't leave it all, just because I wanted to stay. Looking back, I know I could have. But none of that matters now. Four weeks from today, I'll be boarding a plane, flying: NYC-->TLV.
I keep wondering what I will feel when the plane takes off. Excitement? Fear? Panic? Probably some odd combination. But I know what I will feel when the plane lands: complete joy. My first step on Israeli soil, and my first breath of Israeli air will no doubt leave me breathless, and in tears. It always does. Except this time will be different. This time, it's not a vacation. It's not a tour group. It's the next chapter of my life.
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