On the Runway

You’re waiting for the plane to take off; the plane has taxied to the runway, you feel the anticipation of the engine revving and the force of the plane as it moves down the runway, that anticipation of trepidation and elation when you realize the plane is soon to be airborne and you’re on your way to your destination … and then you hear the captain’s announcement that there’s been a delay. 
 
That’s a bit how I feel at the moment, waiting to make aliyah.  I’m on the runway but Hashem keeps announcing there’s been a delay. So I have this feeling of disconnect; my neshama’s living in Eretz Yisrael but my body is here.It’s taken me many years to get to this point and I can’t really imagine how it will all materialize. But that’s what emuna is – trusting Hashem in the darkness, when the situation is unclear and the goal seems remote.
 
So why am I still on the runway?
 
I’ve had many good experiences in the Land of Israel over the years but they were, in the main, in the context of “holidays”: either school or work breaks. Now I realize, having followed Breslev teachings for a few years, what a mistake that is – to think of Hashem’s palace as a holiday destination.
 
It’s been interesting for me to note that this major shift in outlook has taken place outside of Israel as I haven’t had the opportunity to visit our spiritual homeland for six years and the last trip was unusually difficult.  Six years’ ago I wasn’t working and had initially planned to come to Israel for a couple of months; I had the whole trip planned, who I was staying with in Har Nof, the seminary of choice, but at the last minute I decided it wasn’t what I wanted to do. It seemed a bit overwhelming; I was very tired and felt too pressured. I opted for yet another “hotel holiday” thinking that would be more relaxing but Hashem decided to give me a virus which put paid to the few interesting activities I had planned including a shidduch. Not only that but I was extremely unhappy in the hotel although it was a frum one; I felt quite disconnected from Hashem, as if the walls of the hotel were creating a barrier between me and Him.  I felt, after all the years of coming to Israel even with the recent connection to some religious cousins, this time round everything seemed very static as though a stage in my life had come to an end. In a state of absolute despondency I curtailed my visit and came back to London 2 days early. A thought crossed my mind that I wouldn’t be coming back for a while and when I did it would be with a one-way ticket.
 
This trip was a wake-up call because I’d been there, done that, and now what?
 
What was Hashem asking of me?
 
I’ve been thinking about this a lot recently and the overriding reason I believe is to do with what Rav Shalom Arush speaks about: self-composure.  I had to clarify the truth and develop a commitment to that truth.
 
    •       What was the purpose of Eretz Yisrael and what was my purpose as a Jew to live there?
 
    •       Did I really want to live according to Hashem’s Will in His palace?
 
    •       What obstacles was I putting in my way?
 
So what have I now defined for myself as the purpose of Eretz Yisrael and what is my vision of where I fit into it?
 
The real and only purpose of Eretz Yisrael is as a place most conducive for the Jewish People to serve the Creator through Torah and mitzvot, where we can most easily achieve closeness to Him and achieve perfection for ourselves and creation.  This is the only thing we are supposed to yearn for.Sorry, but that’s the bottom line folks.
 
Have I really meditated on this before? In my defense, I will say that I didn’t have the deeper Torah knowledge available in the past and, as I have acquired this knowledge, it’s taken a while to internalize it. This acknowledgment by definition requires clarification of priorities. It requires honest self-assessment and self-awareness but ultimately that’s a good thing, a liberating feeling.
 
I now see myself in a Torah community, committed as opposed to a foot in both camps.  I crave community and connectedness with like-minded Jews, pursuing a common goal. I have a vision of what I might be doing, maybe some things I don’t really feel I have obvious talents for but am drawn to these ideas anyway. Proof of that is I’m writing essays which are published – I’ve never had an obvious talent for writing and in fact would have said that I am quite un-creative.  Whether anyone reading them likes them or not is not the issue [obviously I hope you do] but for me this is a spiritual gift.
 
So here are some of the obstacles I have had to confront about living in Israel over the past years, in no particular order:
 
    •       It’s too hot in the summer;
 
    •       being very put off by an on/off communication with an acquaintance living there at the time which involved her well-intentioned, but patronizing, views of where she thought I ought to be spiritually;
 
    •       how I would manage without this or that department store in London;
 
    •       how I would earn a living;
 
    •       anxiety about managing on my own domestically or lodging with a family and messing up their kosher kitchen;
 
    •       not having a grasp of Ivrit [when in the past most Israelis were kind enough to speak English!];
 
    •       anxiety about “failing” in a religious community, that I’d be “found out” because I didn’t know the Shulchan Aruch back to front, and sideways;
 
    •       not having the pioneering spirit;
 
    •       security fears.
 
A lot has happened since my last trip to Israel; although on the surface they might seem to the outsider an ordeal and burdensome, in fact these recent experiences have changed me for the better, made me more confident in my abilities, flexible. I see that I can manage in quite challenging circumstances, that when I hit the ground running, Hashem has already smoothed the path ahead.
 
Now I look at these seemingly insurmountable obstacles to coming to Israel and see them for they are: most have a degree of reality but I distorted them, magnified them and some are now just no longer applicable.  I looked at the details rather than the overall purpose. 
 
I put this change in outlook down to our Breslev teachers. Without real emuna, the emuna that has overriding principles which have to be learnt and internalized, without making a relationship with Hashem the ultimate goal, without speaking to Him on a regular basis, relying on and asking Him for everything,we’re often committing ourselves to a life of persistent anxiety about the future, to control issues, to missed opportunities, and to a denial of our true essence and purpose.
 
So what have I learnt?
 
    •       That it’s OK to have limitations, it OK to be me;
 
    •       that I needed to give myself time, nothing happens overnight;
 
    •       that I’m quite capable, practical;
 
    •       that I can adapt to new situations;
 
    •       that I have to learn to ask for help;
 
    •       that I could learn Ivrit and it doesn’t have to be perfect;
 
    •       that it’s a dangerous world for a Jew, wherever you live, and Israel has extra protection;
 
    •       that serving Hashem with joy is a prerequisite for bitachon, trust
 
I’m Hashem child, He knows me, He knows my fears, He knows my aspirations, He knows where I’m holding -maybe Hashem has prevented me from returning to Israel in order to give me the time to clarify my deepest desire, to build myself and my future.