25 Days of Israel: Day 4 - A Day in the Life (or Breezy Spring Mornings)

This is Day 4 in a series of posts I have chosen to write during the time of my current - and last, for a while - trip to Israel in March 2023. My experience of Israel in these last 7 years of my residence has been vivid, inspiring, nerve wracking, debilitating, and wholly, precisely, profoundly the medicine I've needed. Words will not (yet) fully express the treasures I've received from my presence here, but I believe the commitment, challenge, and confidence of these 25 Days of Israel are a beautiful homage to their glory in my life.

The way I’m navigating my day-to-day experiences on this last trip to Israel has the basic structure of the way I usually prefer to travel these days. I want to stay somewhere long enough to create an intimate sense of familiarity and home, taking time not to rush through jam-packed sightseeing but also not feel like I’m missing anything I’m waiting for. At the same time, I don’t want to stay long enough to necessitate jumping through visa hoops and getting serious with the logistics of life there (I’ve long since completed my citizenship process in Israel, but I still haven’t dodged serious logistics on this trip).

Simply, I’m interested in time to feel and see and breathe how a life in that world can be, free for a moment from the technicalities of bureaucratic systems.

Today, there was a lot of goodness to see and breathe :) You have to know, during some periods of the day, in some seasons, before or during certain occasions, in certain places in certain cities, Israel is perfectly, ridiculously charming and delightful. Today’s morning - a Sunday, in early March (aka as “spring” as you’ll ever get), the day before Erev Purim (which meant kids and people of all ages everywhere floating around in costume), early enough for the daily bustle to have started but the worst traffic to have cleared and the peak heat to still be a few hours away, in the Old North of Tel Aviv where life is anyways a fraction calmer than other dirtier, more rambunctious parts of the city - was one of those times and places.

I started my day early (later than when I caught my plane the other day, but that’s a very different kind of tired), much earlier than I have on a regular day in a long, long time. I was super tired, but I also got full access to this magical facet of Tel Aviv that, truly, I do so love.

There was traffic, and the heat was already starting to gently sear when we left the house at 7:30, but the roar on the street was still relatively calm and the air still held the crispness of the night’s lingering chill. Sleepy eyed and yawning, my friend and I chatted on the bus to her clinic, then walked along a main street the last few minutes to complete the journey. Along the way, I magically ran into a beloved soul of my past - shout out to you, sweet Gadi! - who offered a hearty hello and hug before we all continued on. Tel Aviv is small, but not so small that the chances of such an encounter are super high. I chalk it up to the morning magic 😁

I also enjoyed the entertainment of the parading Purim enthusiasts - virtually every school-aged kid and teenager I saw, middle-aged-and-older women sporting painted cat whiskers and nose, and even some of the staff working behind coffee shop counters. My favorite moment was walking down the stairs of my friend’s building with her two little villains in tow, from the top/fourth floor, and collecting at least one, if not two or more, costumed children with every flight we descended. We were a full-on procession by the time we exited.

This morning, no demographic was left unturned and no one was unaffected by the impending Purim spirit, regardless of whether or not you were in costume. And still, all of this excitement was contained within the “Sunday spring morning,” nearly as precious in its own way as Shabbat, and differently, but no less potently, as gentle.

I was reminded of the way that there are certain times and places in this country where someone can really feel alive - whole, strong, expansive, and authentic - especially when they learn to create these times and places more intentionally and consistently for themselves. I was also reminded of the profound fact that Israel was the first place I independently chose to live, for myself, as myself… just because life. Something clearly drew me here, and the more I spend quality time out and about in the sublime early morning, the more I think a large part of those reasons could be this, let’s say, situational flourishing.

Being out in the radiant morning sun, feeling the gentle hype of a breezy spring morning in the big, Mediterranean city, I can’t help but imagine that all of us here are given the same opportunity to bloom in these conditions as the flowers. There is so much that is so hard here, especially in this city, but sometimes, in this kind of weather and this kind of environment, it’s also hard not to become addicted to shining as your own soft morning light.