Our two months here have been filled with activity, leisure, indulgence, entertainment, visits with family & friends, outings and travel – non-stressful and relaxing, to say the least.
We head back into uncertainty, turmoil, stress and aggro….and our home, more family & friends, pets, a new school year and work and social obligations and events.
To write that the current situation doesn’t concern me or to play it off as a “we’ll conduct our business as usual” would be to trivialize and falsify for the benefit of appearance. Despite the we go on with life as we always did message sent out on many HLC blogs, the underlying tone and obsession with news and the situation conveys a quite different communique. It is not life as normal. Even though I’ve been there in the past for turmoil, it’s different each time. And now, I’m responsible for someone else’s well being.
Yes, I’m worried. About escalated violence, a broadened campaign, the general mood of the country and the ultimate impact of it all on myself, and more importantly, Raphael.
I have contemplated the obvious, as parents do: What would it take for me to grab Rapha & head out of HLC? A ground campaign inside of Israel, air or rocket strikes on Tel Aviv, a large scale war…??? Impossible to know until we’re there.
Already, however, I’m feeling the upped ante. While listening to a radio report yesterday in the car, I screamed curses at the top of my lungs hearing Syria’s Ambassador to the United States feign a victim’s stance to the NPR interviewer.
During yoga class this morning, I was unable to let go of thoughts of THE SITUATION looming ever closer. Despite a yogic teaching emphasizing presence in the moment, my thoughts scattered wildly.
The class, ironically, was held at a studio in Lebanon…Ohio. Historically Lebanon is famous for being home to astronaut John Glenn, for the 70’s filming there of the movie Harper Valley PTA and for its early 1800’s inn visited by 12 U.S. presidents.
The town’s epicenter is filled with tiny specialty shops criss-crossed by a series of tracks traversed by passenger and freight trains chugging through. Corn fields hug miles-long stretches of the 2-lane Route 42 leading into town and magnificent 19th century mansions dot the city limits.
After class I stopped at a roadside Sweet Corn stand and found, instead of humans, a tractor trailer brimming with ears of Silver Queen still in husks. A bucket on the passenger seat marked “Baker’s Dozen: $4.00 for 14” held assorted change, singles and five dollar bills. Silence. Not a soul in sight. The honor system. I dispensed my cash and carefully chose fourteen.
While munching one of the fresh purchases back home, I checked e-mail. One from my friend Susie. “Shelters in the Central Area” was printed in the Subject line. Inside was a listing of public bomb shelters in Tel Aviv, Raanana, Jaffa, Kfar Saba, etc.
Reality is seeping in.