Efshar od echad?

Life is constantly peppered with questions and decisions about practically everything. No deep epiphany in that sentence, surely.

But for some reason it is now that I find myself thinking hard and asking: What kind of person am I? Is that the kind of person I want to be? Do I even know what kind of person I want to be?

In short...well, there is no short.

Since moving to Kibbutz Gaaton in August '09, I have been able to do a lot of self reflecting. As people have moved in and out of my life (and the kibbutz), I have developed a deeper, though not necessarily clearer understanding of myself and my perceptions on life, art, and social interaction.

In dealing with a diverse range of personalities agreeable and otherwise, I have realized that I can be incredibly difficult, hurtful, selfish, dismissive, resentful, and jealous over the tiniest things. I read a self-summarization by a character in a Philip Roth novel who declared that she could be thrown by a syllable and goes through 80 emotions a minute. Not surprisingly, I related.

But to cut myself some slack, I've also learned that I can be selfless, thoughtful, and giving. I've learned to listen to people when they speak. I've surprised myself by just how much I can care about others. I've made a nearly 180-degree reversal with my artistic intentions. I have new things to say. Things with meaning. At least to myself.

So to answer the first question, what kind of person am I? I am constantly evolving and learning. I am stubborn but willing to compromise. I don't know what I want, but I know what I don't want. Everything is instinctive. I am incredibly and sometimes unreasonably sensitive. But I love and feel deeply. And I am ridiculously self centered, but I'm working on that...

Where I go from here is any one's guess.

******

I spent the last few days in Jerusalem. I drove there by myself, an idea which initially frightened me. As I approached Jerusalem on Highway 1's narrow and twisting roads, I was filled with a mix of giddy excitement and anxiety about the upcoming traffic situation. But no matter, I felt an immediate sense of gratitude for being able to just drive into Jerusalem. A city that people dream of visiting but never do. Or they do, but only once in their lifetime. And yet here I was, driving past the Sonol and Paz petrol stations that signify, at least to me, the entrance into Jerusalem.

I parked as soon as I could and headed to the Machane Yehuda market seeking out my friends. When I asked Sophie where she was, she replied "surrounded by fruits and vegetables and a cheese store." She may as well have added 'nuts' to her sentence, for fruits, vegetables, cheese, and nuts are practically the entire contents of this market. Luckily I found her along with Arianna and Alex within seconds. Nothing short of a miracle in the Machane Yehuda market...

I spent the rest of my day having a goodbye lunch with Arianna who was to return to the US the next day and with Brittain, my former kibbutz neighbor turned reluctant Yerushalmi.

The next day I took some time to wander around the Old City. No matter how many times I go there, I always find something new. I took Sophie and Delphine to the roof of the Austrian Hospice, overlooking the roofs and narrow alleyways of the Old City and boasting a splendid view of the Dome of the Rock at a close distance. Its in moments like these where I can feel the weight and magnitude of everything, the world, and both the triviality and enormity of my own existence.

******

Now I'm feeling only the heaviness of weight on me that I cannot place. I know that everything will be okay.