Zemer's Aliyah Files: #1

I made aliyah not very long ago. What a complex mix of feelings. Such a rush of exhilaration and deep joy, such an overwhelming confusion and feeling of being lost. I am oozing with emotion of all kinds. Not all things have turned out as I expected them to; I haven't always felt as I expected I would.
Flying over Israel on my way in, I had the words of some of the most deeply inspirational parts of Tehillim on my lips. And yet, in all the ecstasy of the concrete fulfillment of such profound dreams as those of me and my people these many many years, there is also heartache. There is a sense of disconnection, as I struggle to get a hold on the new and sometimes bewildering social, cultural, and structural differences. And there is a sense of lacking; lacking in this fulfillment of the dream.

The Kotel is greatly inspiring, but even in my emotional return to its holy stones, I am conscious of the fact that it's just an external part, a minor remnant, of the great Temple which once stood, and which should stand, beyond it, in spiritual glory and physical splendour. When I say, 'boneh Yerushalayim' in my prayers, I'm in two minds: on the one hand, G-d has blessed us with the rebuilding of so much of this special city. On the other hand, there's so much still missing, so much that we're still lacking. When I thank the government for its generous help and active encouragement of my Aliyah, I also remember how hurtful and damaging some of its policies are, how selfish and morally perverted some of its leaders are. When I celebrate my own Aliyah, I am also greatly upset about the many people who should also be allowed to return to this land, but who are unable to. I rejoice in my return home, while I am broken down in grief at the tragic form of the return of two of our nation's beautiful children to her borders so recently.

Excited friends and family welcomed me to Israel with joy and celebration when I arrived. And an Arab Israeli welcomed me to Israel with his premeditated attempt at murder on the streets of Yerushalayim. This tragedy (whose total potential devastation was thankfully avoided) I was shocked, angry; and the complexities of the political, social, and spiritual reality here in Israel smacked me around the face. Life in two dimensions would be so simple, yes, but it would also be terribly boring. Life in its real form is incredibly complex, and to me it increasingly seems true here in Israel. I strive to be open-minded and to find a path of truth, but the sea is a choppy and a tempestuous one to surf.

I'm still engulfed in the excitement and the dramatic impact of being planted once more in the streets of the Holy Land; I realize, as I stand here at the beginning of a profound and life-changing, life-enriching process, that life is full of surprises; that Israel is indeed a deep and complex place, that life here is beautiful, difficult, exhilarating, confusing, wonderful. I look forward to intertwining my branches with those of the magnificence of this land; I look forward to adjusting my pulse and rhythm to that of this special place. I look forward to becoming, more and more, a part of my holy home land.