Like a dream

Out of nowhere a triple realization struck me with a force and clarity I could not have anticipated:

In one month, I will no longer be in Israel.

In one month, I will be home.

In one month, I will no longer be home.

In the last couple weeks I have met new people and had wonderful experiences that have lifted my spirits and given me yet more reason to love this already astounding adventure.  A few weeks ago a new girl about my age moved to the kibbutz and joined us at the factory and we immediately became friends.  A few days later I met a girl at the pub who is originally from Canada but just finished her Israeli army service and also lives on the kibbutz - yet another new friend.  I met a wonderful guy hitchhiking and thanks to him got my opportunity to see an Israeli wedding - new friend number three (and possibly more).

I intend to pack as much as I can into these remaining four weeks.  Planning on hiking in the desert this weekend, I'll hike at least twice more in the Golan Heights, hopefully at least one more trip to Jerusalem and Tel Aviv each, and I have to get to Safed yet.  And while I'm doing all that I will be cramming in every last bit of Hebrew knowledge I can while I'm still surrounded by people speaking it.  I will also continue to try every new and unique food and dessert that I can because life is too short to say no to good food from another country, gosh darnit!  So what if I'll have to work extra hard to get rid of its not-so-wonderful effects on my tummy?  It'll be worth it.

Even after four months here, I have moments where immense feelings of gratitude rush through my thoughts, my feelings, my veins, and I am filled with the breathtaking realization that I am living a dream.  Two years ago while sitting in a hotel room in Jerusalem toward the end of my Birthright trip to Israel, I wrote in my journal that I would come back to Israel someday.  I also wrote a prayer that this would not end up like the many similar promises I've made to myself throughout my life, but that this would come to fruition and that I would actually follow through.  As I talked about this dream more, voicing it to friends, family, and acquaintances, it became increasingly more concrete and blurred the arbitrarily imposed lines between reverie and reality.  At every step of the pre-journey journey - applying and getting accepted to the program, finalizing details, buying my plane tickets, getting my visa - I got a little more excited and renewed my own faith in my plans.  And at every step, I thought to myself "I can't believe I'm doing this."

A couple weeks before I left I spoke to a friend on the phone and with apprehension, trepidation, and excitement in my voice I asked him, "Who is this girl?  This person who, in two weeks' time, is hopping on a plane alone to fly to another country for five months?  This surely isn't me."

But here I am, flesh and blood, mind and heart, sitting in 28 degree (82 degrees F) weather, looking out at hibiscus bushes and a tree with purple flowers, listening to bird song occasionally accompanied by the soft rustle of leaves in a breeze, enjoying a calm day before we celebrate the holiday of Shavuot, and the thought that permeates my mind is:

"I am so lucky to be living my dream.  I am in Israel, and I love it."

Who knows where my path will lead?

Alas, this dream will come to an end in precisely 28 days and I will be on my way back home to be with the family and friends I miss so much.  But at the same time I am flying towards one home I will be leaving another - a paradox of the most heart-wrenching sort.

People keep asking me if I'm planning on making aliyah so that I can live in Israel and to every one of them I say "I don't know."  I know I will go back to the U.S. in July and graduate with my degree next spring.  But quite frankly, I know nothing after that.  I refuse to let myself make plans because the reality is that in my time here I have fallen in love with this country in new and profound ways that will ensure it always has a role in my future.  The trouble is I don't know exactly how.

One of the many things I have been learning here in addition to Hebrew, Israeli culture, and how to make the perfect Israeli salad is how to trust, how to have faith, which surprisingly is something I severely lacked throughout much of my life.  Despite the fact that this has not been a specifically religious experience (if my difficulties keeping Kosher here are any indication), I feel it has given me the opportunity to grow as a Jew and, more importantly, as a human being.  I feel more calm, more secure, more trusting that while perhaps not all things can be explained, some things do in fact happen for a reason.

So even though I don't know exactly what will happen in the future, I'm okay with that.  And since I don't know, I guess I'll just have to enjoy every last moment of this dream before I step on a plane and wake up.