I began writing this post in English, but soon enough, I found myself going in directions I didn’t aim for, and so I’m trying again, this time in Hebrew.
(So here is the translation into English)
In my native language sentences have a different tone, and I can go into descriptions at a different depth.
I found I can be “at home” through language. Who needs a plane ticket and the headache of airports and two weeks’ quarantine when I can be teleported by using an associative tool that sends me to Israel straight away while I sit in my temporary living room in Costa Rica?
And it’s not just the language. The best way to feel “at home” is actually through flavors: delicious pita bread, tahini, vegetable salad, and tuna … all remind me of dinners in the kitchen with my housemate. The same kitchen I managed to cram with electric appliances and jars. Against all physical laws the light succeeded in permeating the kitchen space to leave it roomy and bright after all.
I notice now how I miss the same kitchen whose floor is not covered with small, biting ants, or the largest red kind (though you’d imagine those would be nasty- that’s the type that won’t do any harm), or the silver-blue beetles climbing over my feet in the villa in Santa Teresa.
As Einstein once said: “Everything in life is relative.”
I miss the atmosphere in the streets, the sea which was a few steps from almost every corner of the city, the weather, the atmosphere, the tasty food.
Despite longing for my home in Israel, today it is clear to me that Israel is simply one dimension of home.
But as the wise have already said: a home is not a block of stones and cement, nor a geographical location on the globe. A home is where the heart is.
And my home? It is with the person I love.
But to tell the truth, until I got to know my significant other, most of the time I had no urgent need for a life partner. I felt I could fulfill all my needs and even appreciate my quality time with myself.
As an “independent and strong” woman who came out into the world in search of self-fulfillment, seeking to create a meaningful life and a meaningful career for herself, one could say that my path took a turn, as I realized there was something even more important to me than that.
As the singer, Eviatar Banai said on Shavuot night: “I needed the pain to open my eyes.”
But first, the story opens with the celebration of freedom, two months after leaving the country: believing in my new path, accompanied with a sufficient determination that was needed. I found myself utilizing an “office” to write from every day – an office that is also the best coffee shop in Santa Monica (a coffee shop to me is not a trivial matter; it must have just the right amount of natural light inside, tables and chairs situated in a harmonious relationship between themselves and those sitting on them, music at the right volume and rhythm, and some other features, but this is not the place to elaborate. When all the conditions were found to be appropriate, I started writing vigorously in my new office. Writing a book on “Breaking Cages” days went by and the book began to grow, and the work was underway, but deeper inside me, something did not feel quite right.
Something was missing.
I set out to the world to write; and found myself alone. My body began to crave forhuman touch which suddenly turned out to be a precious commodity, but, like toilet paper in Corona days, it was unclear where it could be obtained, if at all.
I set out for self-fulfillment and found that despite what I initially believed, self-realization is not everything in life.
Suddenly I experienced not only the light, optimistic and happy side of being on my own, but also alienation and loneliness like a puzzle without the central piece.
This latter understanding made me worry that perhaps it was too late. Achievement is the fuel that drives me, but it is no longer enough to make me happy.
That feeling became so acute that I could no longer ignore it; and it was probably just what I needed to finally open my eyes.
As I watched my vision of my success every morning, I saw how the spotlight was slowly shifting from my personal success. The publication of the book, a trip between different retreats while training the “Happy and conscious life management”- was no longer the main thing.
My “desired future” shifted to focus on a life partner who was very present in my imagination, although his character was somewhat blurry and slightly ridiculous due to the lack of facial features.
However, the concept of a relationship was as a small, distant point in an unknown horizon, and alongside my growing awareness of the lack of a partnership in my life, loneliness gained more presence in me.
Sometimes to alleviate the lack of human contact, I picked two high-end palm trees, which were particularly well-suited for stolen hugs at the end of a run on Venice Beach.
Fast forward, almost six months later, with my arrival in Costa Rica, I felt my lonely state striking powerfully, while inside my isolation was magnified against the loving couples on every corner and took me to the limit of being able to endure my ongoing loneliness.
Finally, it happened. I crossed the line no one wants to cross: the line at which pathetic desperation took over. It seemed that once you have crossed the line to the “desperate single” it is difficult, if even possible, to return to being the attractive woman who enjoys herself and shoots vital and intriguing energy in all directions.
I found myself sharing with strangers my heartfelt feelings, and my intentions of finding a partner, as if I was talking into an earpiece on the other side of the universe so it could hear my request: “I’m ready for a relationship. Now, it’s said out loud. Can you hear me?!”
Up till now, my preferred hobby was to take myself to the beach for a lovely quiet sunset, sitting in a cafe by myself with the pink laptop as an ultimate partner I never tired of. I enjoyed eating cream-banana-chocolate cakes on my own so brutally, that anyone who entered the cafe and saw the delight on my face was tempted to request the same treat for themselves. My pleasure alone was so good that it was boundless.
But it wasn’t enough anymore.
“I want to share the pleasure.”
Fortunately, just before desperation reached new heights, one morning I woke up and told myself: “No more. I loosen the grip of this desperate need for someone else in my life.” Yes, it is something I wish for, and the necessity is real. I want to be comfortable in my ownskin again, not to be sad about what is lacking; but to be happy with what I have got.
So what can be done instead? I could go back to doing what always brings me to my center: trust.
I can exist without expectation, return to enjoying myself and my freedom, and recovering my confidence in my own way and the belief that it will happen when it happens– in the right place at the right time. And until it does, I am grateful for life as it is. I return to celebrate life!
What else happened on that “other” morning?
As if I was instructed to prepare for the evening,
I wrote a farewell letter to my solitude, calling it “my last loneliness ” as if “preparing my system” to be ready to say goodbye to the loneliness, yet not a desperate goodbye, but a happy and liberating one, that began to vibrate in my blood.
I also blessed a cookie with the intention of relief and happy energy, then had it, taking my time with every bite.
After all that energetic shift, I walked into the sea which seemed to be receding into itself, pulling its waves back far from the shore, leaving only small pools of smooth, clear water. A small pool was created between the rocks, and I dipped my whole self into it like a “Mikveh” ritual. As if something inside me knew.
That evening, at a beach party in Santa Teresa in full moonlight, like two magnets with plus and minus, the mutual attraction between J’ and I was born.
At the right time and place, the meeting was created. Since then we have been isolated together away from Corona on desolate beaches or on the foot of a volcano or in a thick jungle. Living with meaning – together.
And my home? It is where my heart is, where J’ is.
(Thanks to Alice Markowits for the English editing)
