#ארץ ישראל

[unbidden-yidden]

So here I am, unable to sleep again, because of the horrifying attack on Israel.

The stories keep coming out and for every new detail I find out, another part of my soul shatters.

[***massive trigger warning for the rest***]

I feel like I'm living in a parallel world to everyone who is not affected by this situation. It's been surreal to go about my work day and regular life as if the images of blood-soaked cradles, burned corpses, raped and wounded women, captives of all ages being taken away on vehicles, video of a small child being taunted for crying for his mother, body bags lined up in rows on the ground, torched cars and homes, and the raw grief of the surviving family members aren't burned onto the backs of my eyelids.

One account I read from a family member of the deceased was that she was beaten, raped in multiple ways and sticks shoved into each place, and left for dead. Another I came across spoke of a small child being forced to watch his parents tortured, killed, and hacked apart. Still another I saw was a report of several children bludgeoned to death so as not to "waste the bullets."

How can I possibly begin to process this?

These people look just like the people in my communities and the friends I've made across the sea. They have my Hebrew teacher's hair, my rabbi's cheekbones, they sound like the shinshinim kids we have each year. They look like the baby nephews of my fellow congregants. I could have davened next to any of them and never known. It is only sheer dumb luck that I don't personally know someone who has died or lost close family.

There has been a pit of dread in my stomach since Shimini Atzeret that will not go away. I find myself on the verge of tears at all times, yet have not been able to actually cry (which is not a good sign; an inability to express sadness in tears is a known post-trauma response for me) and I cannot rest normally. Sometimes I can distract myself for a bit, but the pain and grief rush back in immediately when I remember.

I can feel, in real time, this Jewish cultural trauma sinking into my bones.

And you might think I might be able to separate myself from it since I'm not there and don't have family there. But I can't, because I don't want to. I can't, because some tether bound me forever to the land as soon as my feet hit the ground there, and some part of my soul stayed behind when I left. I don't want to, because these are my people and so they are my adoptive family, even if I do not know them. I am my brother's keeper.

And so here I stand, half a world away from the danger, nervous and scared and grieving, searching our perfectly blue sky for signs of missiles that are not falling here and being startled constantly by the normal and unbroken landscape. The lush beauty of Midwestern autumn woods is juxtaposed in my mind with Middle Eastern walls painted in the blood of my people and their broken bodies beneath them. I see it in the waking light of day as clear as anything in front of me, and walk around like a person divided, in both places at once yet not being fully present in either. I cannot unsee it.

How can I possibly explain this? To myself? To the people actually having to live this nightmare? To the other people removed from the immediate physical danger but who do have blood relatives and/or other family there that they're just praying stay safe and come home at the end of the day? That they are constantly checking their phones for updates or even minimal signs that they're still alive?

The words fail me, but I the closest thing I have to an answer is love. I love my people and I would rather absorb this pain with them and carry it in my soul forever than look away from Jewish suffering. That is a promise I made by joining this people, that my fate would forever be bound up in the collective fate of klal Yisrael. Wherever you go, I will go; wherever you stay, I will stay; your people shall be my people, and your G-d my G-d. Where you die, I will die, and there I will be buried. Thus and more may Hashem do to me if anything but death parts me from you.

אַל־תִּפְגְּעִי־בִ֔י לְעׇזְבֵ֖ךְ לָשׁ֣וּב מֵאַחֲרָ֑יִךְ כִּ֠י אֶל־אֲשֶׁ֨ר תֵּלְכִ֜י אֵלֵ֗ךְ וּבַאֲשֶׁ֤ר תָּלִ֙ינִי֙ אָלִ֔ין עַמֵּ֣ךְ עַמִּ֔י וֵאלֹהַ֖יִךְ אֱלֹהָֽי׃ בַּאֲשֶׁ֤ר תָּמ֙וּתִי֙ אָמ֔וּת וְשָׁ֖ם אֶקָּבֵ֑ר כֹּה֩ יַעֲשֶׂ֨ה יְהֹוָ֥ה לִי֙ וְכֹ֣ה יוֹסִ֔יף כִּ֣י הַמָּ֔וֶת יַפְרִ֖יד בֵּינִ֥י וּבֵינֵֽךְ׃

[רות א]

I do not take that lightly, and I feel it in my bones. Some core part of me shattered at the same time as the rest of my community.

I cannot, and I will not look away. I will not close my heart or shield myself from this tragedy. And I will not forget.

עַ֥ל נַהֲר֨וֹת ׀ בָּבֶ֗ל שָׁ֣ם יָ֭שַׁבְנוּ גַּם־בָּכִ֑ינוּ בְּ֝זׇכְרֵ֗נוּ אֶת־צִיּֽוֹן׃ עַֽל־עֲרָבִ֥ים בְּתוֹכָ֑הּ תָּ֝לִ֗ינוּ כִּנֹּרוֹתֵֽינוּ׃ כִּ֤י שָׁ֨ם שְֽׁאֵל֪וּנוּ שׁוֹבֵ֡ינוּ דִּבְרֵי־שִׁ֭יר וְתוֹלָלֵ֣ינוּ שִׂמְחָ֑ה שִׁ֥ירוּ לָ֝֗נוּ מִשִּׁ֥יר צִיּֽוֹן׃ אֵ֗יךְ נָשִׁ֥יר אֶת־שִׁיר־יְהֹוָ֑ה עַ֝֗ל אַדְמַ֥ת נֵכָֽר׃ אִֽם־אֶשְׁכָּחֵ֥ךְ יְֽרוּשָׁלָ֗͏ִם תִּשְׁכַּ֥ח יְמִינִֽי׃ תִּדְבַּֽק־לְשׁוֹנִ֨י ׀ לְחִכִּי֮ אִם־לֹ֢א אֶ֫זְכְּרֵ֥כִי אִם־לֹ֣א אַ֭עֲלֶה אֶת־יְרוּשָׁלַ֑͏ִם עַ֝֗ל רֹ֣אשׁ שִׂמְחָתִֽי׃

[תהלים קלז]

#personal post #not trying to claim that I am in any way affected at the level others are #most other people are way more directly affected than me and I don't intend this to take that focus away from them #this is more of a diary post than anything #but I'm posting it anyway because I suspect others feel similarly and I do think it's one (of many) conversations that should be had #ארץ ישראל #jumblr

[spreading-stardust]

I still have the fire and the smoke within me, pillars of fire and pillars of smoke that guide me by night and by day. I still have inside me the mad search for emergency exits, for soft places, for the nakedness of the land, for the escape into weakness and hope, I still have within me the lust to search for living water with quiet talk to the rock or with frenzied blows.

“I Wasn’t one of the Six Million: and what is my life span? Open, closed, open” by Yehuda Amichai

#poem #poetry #spilled poetry #hope #generation to generation #ארץ ישראל #Fire and smoke

[anaelllllla]

#ישראל #יום העצמאות #ארץ ישראל #מדינת ישראל #michael laitman

[ani-lo-daredevil]

#ישראבלר #israel #ארץ נהדרת #חרבות ברזל #palestine #antisemitism #ישראל #hamas #gaza #free palestine from hamas #עברית #Youtube

[ashenpumpkin]

a legitimate form of resistance that only applies against Jewish women, Of course

#israel #israeli satire is the best #ישראבלר #un women #i/p #hamas is isis #ישראל #טאמבלר עברי #טאמבלר ישראלי #un #סאטירה #ארץ נהדרת #Youtube

[ace7librarian]

שמעו

#ארץ נהדרת #טאמבלר ישראלי #ישראבלר #ישראל #בוז׳י הרצוג #rambling in librarian

[ppppppaaazzzzzzzzz]

החות'ים מגיעים על בננות לאילת!!!😱

תושבי אילת מתבקשים להחביא את הג'חנונים במגירה של הירקות.

#israel #אין לי ארץ אחרת #jumblr #ישראבלר #עם ישראל חי #fake news

[the-catboy-minyan]

I have mixed feelings about ארץ ‏נהדרת, but the Ben Gvir ‘Objection!’ bit in the icj skit was so great, actually made me and my mother laugh out loud when we watched it

same, I stopped watching them like 3 years ago I think? I never fully understood their humor anyways because I don't follow the news closely enough to get all the jokes.

a couple of months ago I walked in to my parent's living room to see Eretz Nehederet on and it was a skit about "Queers for Palestine" that completely made fun of their intelligence and didn't criticize them for being "people on the left who are misinformed about the situation in a country that's miles away from them and projecting US politics on us", but as "dumb lgbtabc with their blue hair and pronouns calling terrorists freedom fighters". ignoring all the actual issues on the american left and summarizing it as "lol gay people are idiots".

I just felt really offended, I was a queer leftist at the time (still am but distanced myself more from the crowd they were making fun of), and I was witnessing the left descent to becoming terrorist apologists in my own friend groups and online circles, and here they are showing it as a problem of intelligence when it's so much fucking deeper than that.

(also idk what skit you're talking about did I reblog it? I only remember reblogging one about how a lot of charities go straight to Hamas leaders)

#asks #eretz nehederet #israel #ישראל #ישראלבלר #ארץ נהדרת

[gal-gabot]

עדיין יש לנו ארץ נהדרת, רק שהשלטון בה פחות.

#ביחס לביו #אבל הרפרנס עדיין עומד #ארץ ישראל יפה #היא פשוט לא פורחת #לא כרגע #ישראבלר #עברית #אל תשכחו על מה בחרנו להגן

[hakrashelha]

אני לא צריכה להוסיף כלום

#טאמבלר ישראל #טאמבלר עברי #ישראל #עברית #hebrew #israel #ישראלים #ישראמבלר #אהבה #לימודים #ארץ נהדרת #ארץ #פוליטיקה #בן גביר #ממשלה #בחירות #מה זה שיווק באינטרנט #Youtube

[unbidden-yidden]

Honestly going to Israel kinda fucked me up in ways I'm still just beginning to unpack, because now I'm questioning the very meaning of "home."

I want to preface this by saying this is not about politics. I am not trying to make a particular political statement, nor is this commentary on or a reaction to any particular event or whatever. This is springing from a deep, primordial mental and emotional place that I can barely name or explain, let alone change or control. I honestly don't even feel like it's coming from a particularly religious place, although Judaism is the only language I have to even begin to attempt to explain it. You know how various animals just know certain migration stopping points that they've never been to or how to navigate back to the place they were born to have their own young? This feels far more like that.

I've definitely never felt anything like this before. Growing up, I felt a generalized connection to and love of nature writ large. It was very much a "the earth is a wide, wild, diverse, incredible place that must be loved and respected and cared for" rather than some deep tie to the particular land I grew up on.

In fact, the natural space I felt the most spiritual connection to and in was not where I grew up at all, but rather the Great Lakes area that my family traveled to on vacation. I grew up longing for the shoreline and woods of a place I'd only been a few times for a comparatively short period of time in my life, because I'd fallen in love with it. When I finally got to touch that water again as an adult, I greeted it like an old friend, and it lapped over my hands as if to return the favor. But I'm not actually from this area, and the way that it calls to me is one of possibility - this could be home, someday. Maybe.

It was only as I've gotten older that I've started to realize how deep the prairie lives in my subconsciousness. This was the local natural environment I grew up in and time has taught me appreciation for it. It shaped me. It left an indelible mark on me. Some part of me will always carry it with me, no matter where I go. Some part of me will always be the prairie, the flat farmlands and endless sky above, the deciduous woods, the ever-changing seasons and unpredictable weather. Some part of me will always taste the specific scent of rain on sun-ripened garden tomatoes, of sweet corn in July, will always feel the specific sun of the heartland on my face.

And yet, it does not own me. I carry it with me wherever I go and it will always be a part of me, but it does not lay claim to the very fabric of my being.

Israel, on the other hand.

I did not expect this. In fact, I was very wary going there, of it being a bit of a letdown. I fully expected that I would feel moved by seeing the sites, of going to these historical places, of finally seeing the place that so many of our prayers are about. I hoped I would enjoy the experience and find myself reconnecting with Am Yisrael and repairing some of the damage to my Jewish connections that Covid had brought on. I hoped I'd have fun, that I'd learn some things, and feel a spiritual connection. At worst, I was worried it would be extremely foreign and off-putting; that I would not be particularly moved religiously while there and/or that the kind of Judaism and Jewish community there would be so alien and unfamiliar that it would actually make me feel even more cut off from Jewish community.

Those were the possibilities I anticipated and was prepared for. All rational assumptions, based on the facts I had in front of me and my knowledge of myself.

What I was totally unprepared for was feeling like the land owned me the moment my feet touched the ground and that I would come back to the US - to the only home country I've ever known, where I was born and raised and have lived my whole life, where my family and friends live, to my house with my beloved partner and the beautiful life we've built together - incomplete, having left some essential part of my being there.

And it's not like this trip was all warm fuzzies. It was still a foreign country where I did not speak the language and where I was not acculturated. It was awkward in all of those ways. I'm not sure I would want to live there in a permanent sort of way; it would definitely make the way I prefer to practice Judaism difficult. I am quite sure that if I moved there even temporarily, I would quickly get quite homesick for being in a place where I'm not a foreigner, where I speak the language fluently and where I know lots of people. I'm certain that the culture shock would hit me like a ton of bricks and it would be very difficult to push through.

But.

Ever since returning, home has not felt the same. These places that I've lived my life in - that until this year I felt mostly comfortable in and like I was part of this culture - it's like I peeled the layers of reality back to reveal how much of a fish out of water I am here. It's still unclear to me if this is because I changed, or because I never truly belonged. I could definitely make solid arguments for both, but I'm not sure it matters much. Heartbreaking either way, to be honest.

What's frustrating is that it's not like I just felt totally at ease there. It wasn't like I entered this magical, perfect space where I suddenly made sense as a person and felt immediately comfortable and at home. It's still a foreign country, on a different continent, in the middle east. I was, and am, a ger. In every sense of the word.

But it's not about medinat Yisrael; it's very much an eretz Yisrael thing. Regardless of how I feel about it, something about eretz Yisrael has a claim on me that I didn't understand until I went there. The land doesn't in any sense "belong" to me, and it wouldn't even if I made aliyah and purchased a house there. I belong to it in some way that is as real and concrete as it is ephemeral and impossible to explain, no matter where I live or go.

This longing to return home, to end the diaspora, to bring about Olam HaBa - so much of our liturgy - it now makes sense. I didn't get it before, but now I do, and I really don't know how to process this information.

How do I explain this to myself, never mind anyone else? How do I explain that a Protestant-raised white-bread kid from the US who has no known Jewish ancestry and who converted as an adult on nothing but a shot-in-the-dark spiritual longing and numinous experience of the Divine, could go to a country where I am very much an outsider and a foreigner, and have it grab me by the kishkes and say hey - this, too, is part of your covenant. You will be held to your word. You belong to this place now.

Tisha b'Av hit so much harder this year for that reason, and I predict a lot sobbing in shul during the chagim.

Galus, indeed.

#you can reblog but don't be a jerk please #ארץ ישראל #this post was definitely prompted by visiting my home state and it feeling like home... but also not #and this isn't the only reason why #but it's definitely a large part of it

[aestheticsofshirim]

illegal - agas kimmel moodboard

#it's my 18th birthday today!!! so that means that I'm officially an adult aka legal #israblr #israel #israeli music #ישראבלר #מוזיקה ישראלית #music #ישראל #aesthetics #aesthetic #moodboard #illegal #agas kimmel #לא חוקית #ארץ נהדרת #אגס קימל

[anaella]

🤍

#michael laitman #פוסט בעברית #ארץ ישראל #ישראל #Instagram

[anaelllllla]

קַבָּלָה וּנְתִינָה

מתוך "מאמר לסיום הזוהר" של בעל הסולם

יֵשׁ לָדַעַת

שֶׁעִנְיָנִים רוּחָנִיִּים

אֵינָם כְּעִנְיָנִים גַּשְׁמִיִּים

שֶׁבָּהֶם הַנְּתִינָה וְהַקַּבָּלָה

בָּאִים כְּאֶחָד.

כִּי בָּרוּחָנִיּוּת

זְמַן נְתִינָה לְחוּד

וּזְמַן קַבָּלָה לְחוּד.

כִּי תְּחִילָה

נִתָּן הַדָּבָר לַמְּקַבֵּל,

וּבִנְתִינָה זוֹ נוֹתְנִים לוֹ

רַק הִזְדַּמְּנוּת לְקַבֵּל,

אֲבָל עוֹד לֹא קִבֵּל כְּלוּם.

שרטוט רב משיעור (25.04.08) על "מאמר לסיום הזוהר"

עַד שֶׁמִּתְקַדֵּשׁ וּמִטַּהֵר כָּרָאוּי,

וְאָז זוֹכֶה לְקַבֵּל הַדָּבָר,

בְּאוֹפֶן שֶׁמִּזְּמַן הַנְּתִינָה

עַד זְמַן הַקַּבָּלָה

יָכוֹל לְהִתְעַכֵּב זְמַן מְרוּבֶּה.

#משלי מקובלים #בעל הסולם #יעל ליאור #הרב מיכאל לייטמן #הלב מבין #ארץ ישראל #מדינת ישראל #יום העצמאות #עם ישראל #חג שמח #יום העצמאות 2023

[ani-lo-daredevil]

אני לא אבכה ממערכון של ארץ נהדרת אני לא אבכה ממערכון של ארץ נהדרת אני לא אבכה מ

#המערכון עם גולדה הרס אותי #האחד של התצפיתניות בכלל #ישראל #ישראבלר #עברית #ארץ נהדרת

[mediail]

🔊 אודי כגן מספר כיצד סטנדאפ והומור הפכו לו לחרב ומגן במאבק בפוסט טראומה. 'אתה גם חווה את הקושי, גם את הייאוש וגם את התקווה.' קראו על המסע שלו מחושך לאור.

#סיפור אישי #אודי כגן #סטנדאפ #סטנדאפיסט #דופק #כתבת עומק #פוסט טראומה #ארץ נהדרת #קארפול ישראל #בן בן ברוך