The following was submitted to the Ariel Aliyah blog by a third party (ie- not the author). The author does not identify herself by name, though she shares her personal and ever-developing journey in the Land we call Home:
Today marks 3 years since I started my life anew in Eretz Israel. I’d like to tell my story for anyone interested enough to read it. I’d like to tell my story for me. Like most significant experiences in life, the true meaning often doesn’t reveal itself until the retroactive introspection long after the fact, when it has had time to sink in.
It has been said that while some people have a moment of clarity, others walk around blind their whole life. If you are among the fortunate ones, you are then faced with a decision. You can use your newfound knowledge to propell yourself into a life worth living. If you don’t, the vision will wane and pale and will soon be covered up with doubt and fog, and you will have missed your opportunity.
I had my moment of clarity several years ago. It hit me like a wave, and I was drowning in the ecstasy. I had been swimming in complete darkness, and only then was I able to see the light. Suddenly I knew exactly what my role was in this world, and I was on a mission to fulfill it. Every day was a new discovery, and as I worked hard to make G-d’s will synonymous with my own, it got easier by the day. I was in tune with myself and my spirituality, and I was making all the right choices. I never felt better. It was during this time that I decided to make Aliyah.
I sensed I was walking hand in hand with my Father, my King at all times. In fact, I felt that G-d had literally pulled me out of my arctic existence to embrace me in His warmth. I had been given a free ride, but as my father always told me, nothing in life is free. So I prayed to G-d to allow me to fall from the heights I had reached. I was determined to return, but this time it would be through hard work and determination. This time I would do it on my own.
Now I hear my mother’s voice with another lesson instilled in me from childhood – be careful what you wish for. G-d listened to my prayers, and like all waves, mine gradually washed out. My prayers became routine and I had lost much of my zeal. My passion was steadily fading. While I was still committed to Shabbat and to keeping kosher, my spiritual growth was not progressing. I have heard that spirituality is like a downward escalator; if one does not continue to climb, then by default one is descending.
I stopped learning torah on a daily basis. It increasingly became almost effortless to ignore the beggar on the street. I made excuses for my shortcomings instead of trying to develop my positive character traits and overcome the negative ones. It came to a point where I couldn’t even bring myself to pray. I was embarrassed by my lack of fervour, and felt undeserving of G-d’s attention. I slowly forgot what it felt like the moment my wave crashed into me. Still, somewhere deep inside, I yearn to return to that elated point in my life.
In last week’s parsha, Re’eh, we read about how G-d showed B’nei Israel their options. They could choose to cleave to G-d’s will and reap the rewards, or to follow their animal instincts (or Freud’s “ego”) and suffer the consequences. This is not a choice that we make once, but rather over and over again. You can choose your spouse, you job, your friends, but it doesn’t end there. If after having made your choices, you simply coast through life, then you are not really living. Even if you are happy with your decisions, you must continue to re-choose them on a daily basis, and only then are you truly living.
I have spent the last few years wanting to go back to that point where I was in control of my life. Instead, my life is controlling me. I make resolutions on a daily basis, vowing to change my ways and find a way to reconnect, but never take action. I have become lazy and defeated. I feel like an addict, but what am I addicted to?
Even though I cannot see the light at the end of the tunnel, even though I no longer have the clarity I once had, I know that it is not impossible. I have seen it. I have been there. While I may no longer be riding my wave, I still feel the splashes of it from time to time. Occasionally I read a line in a book, get advice from a stranger on the bus, or remember a moment in a dream, and I know in my heart of hearts that it’s a message straight from G-d. I recognize it instantly as a drop of water from my original wave. These droplets are what help me keep my eye on the prize, no matter how cloudy my vision has become.
It’s a funny thing about waves; they never disappear. They wash back into the sea, uniting with the rest of the water, and in time become a whole new wave, sometimes bigger and more powerful than the first.
I cannot return to the time that I refer to as my time of clarity, nor do I want to. I want to create an environment for myself that is conducive to a new time of luminousness. I recently celebrated my birthday. I decided that enough is enough, and that now is as good a time as any to turn things around. Age is just a number, so this year, I decided to turn 22 again. 22 was a great year for me. It was a year of discovery and revelation. This was only a few weeks ago, and I am already finding myself once again making the right decisions.
I have taken some small steps in hopes of making a big difference. I have made an effort to distance myself from the negative energies in my life, undertaking to fill the empty space with positive ones. I have started to re-assess my priorities. I have decided to actively appreciate and take advantage of the kedusha (holiness) of the month of Elul, having registered for online Yeshiva classes. I have committed myself to going to the Kotel daily for the next 40 days as a segula l’zivug (supernatural cure for the single).
Most importantly, I have pledged to G-d and to myself to no longer sit in the passenger seat in life. I am taking the wheel and choosing, daily, the direction in which I am headed.
So you want to know what I’ve been up to the last 3 years, and what I am up to today? I have been working for the last 9 months at Livnot U’Lehibanot (www.livnot.com). I have been busy building my house in Tekoa, literally settling the Land of Israel. I have made incredible friends, become almost fluent in Hebrew, and learned to prepare a Shabbat meal for 25 guests. I have travelled the country, taking advantage of living in such an incredible place. I have become Israeli.
Most of all, I have spent the last 3 years waiting for my next wave, realising now that it will not come unless I create a gust of wind. For the first time in years, I see a new wave in the distance, and I am finally enjoying the swim.
Awesome!