in the moment..

It’s amazing how the memories that pop into my head are rarely the ones that were created at major events. When I lie in bed and daydream, it’s always flashes of emotions that trigger the images in my mind.

I don’t particularly remember my first trip to the kotel, or most of the other times I was there, but I often remember this one time I went there alone, and sat at the back of the plaza and people-watched. I don’t know how long I was there, but I remember the afternoon breeze, I remember the sun setting on the kotel stones and I vividly remember how I felt - this incredible feeling of connection. I don’t remember when it happened, or what I did before or after, but the memory of me sitting there and feeling this moment of complete inner peace never left me.

When I get homesick, I don’t think about all the great things I've done with my family, the big celebrations, the exotic trips or the big family dinners. What comes to mind is the tight hug I got from my dad at the airport before I left to Israel or the phone call to my mom after my big heartbreak and her strong, soothing, non-judgmental voice telling me I made the right decision and I’d be ok.
Sometimes, I think of that Sunday morning in Tsfat, sitting by the window of our hotel room, overlooking Meron, my parents eating fresh figs and me delighting in their newly discovered contentment and serenity.

When I was becoming religious, I attended countless lectures and shabbatons, but one of the moments that stand out in my mind is a Shabbat afternoon I spent with some girls. I don’t remember who the girls were, I don’t remember who’s house we were at, I don’t remember much else of what we did before or after that day, but I remember listening to them sing and talk, and my heart feeling like it had just discovered a secret passageway to a hidden treasure. I remember feeling overwhelmed by how strong those emotions were and wanting desperately to connect to the source of this beauty.
I remember feeling my soul come alive.
And I remember crying so hard thinking that I would never find my way back to this treasure, once it was gone.

I remember that Friday night I spent on the porch of the hostel in tsfat. Traveling on my own, discovering the world, and myself, I took a mattress and sat out facing the mountains. Taking in the mystical beauty of my surroundings, I relished the harmony I felt myself becoming a part of. I remember the cool wind, I remember the graying sky but most of all, I remember the longing I felt deep inside me, that longing to attach myself to my beloved Creator, to the source of me, that mountain, the wind, and that Shabbat. For a moment i disapeared as a distinct entity and became an indivisible part of a connected universe.

I remember that time I prayed alone in an empty classroom, completely surrendering myself to G-d, throwing my head down, and my heart up, and begging for Him to take care of me. I remember opening my eyes at the end of that prayer and feeling surprised that I was still standing there, surprised I was holding a siddur, surprised how nothing around me had changed, and how everything about me had.

I remember random little stolen kisses and glances. I remember that all-night road trip we took, and the deer that crossed the road just as the sun was rising, and feeling like only we existed. I remember that look in his eyes, flowing with so much love. I remember those sad Sunday morning bus rides home and that desperate feeling of not wanting to let go. I remember that last kiss, the smell, the taste, the feel of it. I remember that ripping in my heart and that hopeless feeling that it would never heal.

I remember that feeling of trust and strength and clarity I felt when my friend would sing to me my favorite song before I went to sleep. Late at night, when the world was asleep, she would sing to me, her heart comforting mine through her powerful voice. I dont know if she realized, but sometimes it was the only thing that would quiet the demons inside of me, just long enough for me to fall asleep.

I have so many positive memories. My family and friends have helped me celebrate every milestone and important event in my life; pictures and gifts will attest to that. But what amazes me is that those memories that creep into my mind when I least expect it, are often those that did not seem momentous when they occurred. They are not memories of events but memories of emotions. The strongest emotions, those that left a discernable imprint, are those I experienced fully. Those times when I stopped and let my senses and emotions guide me are the ones that made an impact on my psyche.
It leads me to wonder how many more of these memories I could have if I took the time to really feel and really be and really live in the moment. How much richer would life be if I didnt just survive through each day, but actually took the split second it takes to live with intention, to stop and feel each moment as it comes.

(thanks to my beautiful, talented goldie for that stunning picture of the pink flowers)