Old acquaintances. He had a case at my office. I don’t really remember its facts and claims, but I remembered that he had been a mensch. When I built my castle in the moshav during the days of the Second Lebanon War, I drove to Beqaa* to resolve some unexpected problem. Beqaa is his home. He insisted on accompanying me and invited me for a meal. Among other things, he is also a diving instructor. He has the serenity of someone well familiar with the depths of the ocean. When his gaze meets mine, I see – that he is one of us.
Abandonment. I came into this world with separation anxiety. It controlled me for many years. Chose for me. Screened horror films in my consciousness. I always ended up old, lonely and insane, surrounded by cats. Alone. Under the control of this anxiety, I was always in a relationship or counting the minutes until the next relationship. I surrounded myself with tons of friends. Constant companionship, just not to be alone. And despite all this, I all too often felt very lonely.
To ask. She met my eyes with an experienced look and replied: “you’re supposed to ask for what you want or what you need.” I’m still listening, and he says to her: “But she’s asking, she’s very verbal.” I looked at the man sitting next to me only to make sure there wasn’t an inkling of cynicism or criticism in his words. “Yes,” she looked at me, “but you have to ask, only what he is able to give.” And I blurted out in pain: “And what about the rest? What about me?”
Moon. A night runs in the moshav fields. “You really aren’t responsible for my happiness,” I say. He loses his temper, holds out his hand and says: “Give me the key, I don’t have the strength to argue.” I bite my bottom lip, think to myself how much we’ve distanced ourselves from each other. I say, “I don’t intend to argue, just listen to me a moment.” This understanding came to me a few days before. I could really see how much we were going around in circles of expectations that don’t materialize, disappointments, complaints, arguments and over and over. I’m tired of hearing myself complain, feeling myself be disappointed, disappointing others. I have decided to stop expecting and to take responsibility.
Baby steps. Working out of anxiety is tiring and unpleasant. One day I met a girlfriend. She told me she was getting a divorce, and without thinking, I blurted out: “Good for you!”. That’s how I understood it, that it was much scarier for me to play the bitter woman in a relationship than to end up old, crazy and surrounded by cats.
Alone. Friday evening on the moshav. I felt like going out. I decide to challenge myself. What do I care what people might say? What do I care that Haifa is such a plain, conservative, dry place? I put on a dress. I drove. I sat at the bar. Ordered. Chit-chatted. Returned to the moshav. Felt like a world champion. I won, at least this evening. For me, it was a defining moment. Solely by choice, and I not only was able to, I even enjoyed myself.
Challenge. I want to come and practice yoga with you, let’s meet and talk about how to do it. I simply picked up the phone after years, knowing that bookkeeping wasn’t his hobby. He came back from the haj uplifted. It was an amazing experience, he’ll tell me about it later, thousands of people praying together. I sail with him there in his imagination and say with all my heart: “It has to be, it’s the power of togetherness.”
Diving. We set up to meet on the dock. I think I wanted to show him that I am also one of them. I love balance in relationships and for a long time have not been afraid of trying new things. We began to deep dive. Something was out of balance and I lost control of my pelvis. Somersaulted. And again. We rose back up. Detected the problem. I calmed down. We dived again. Balanced. Silence.
You are not alone. He met my eyes and I let him see. I mumbled, “It feels alone”. He deepened his gaze. Very present. Almost fatherly. “You are not alone.” I remained silent. Understanding with my body. Some months had gone by. It was the somersaulting of my pelvis that brought the understanding to the level of insight. An honest attempt at both ends allows one to find the middle, finally. Balance. A balanced mixture of together and alone. This or that, at bliss. I thank my separation anxiety, which taught me to be alone. I thank the aloneness, which allowed me to grow until I remembered that I want togetherness too. Now balancing from the pelvis.
10.12.17
Shvei Tsion, Israel
