Dead Lizards, Gardens, and Being Home in the Sun
So I unsuccessfully tried to sweep up his bleeding body with a dustpan as Ash (cat number 3 1/2) got distracted chewing up the still-thrashing tail. I took the distraction as my chance and screwed that up royally. In my hysterical effort to try and save the dying lizard, I bashed his head into the wall and did succeed in dropping his now limp body
onto the what was once our grassy lawn. Oh well. That’s that.
I’ve since then mopped the entire house [note bloody remains all over floor in next picture], picked my nose, made organic rice with grapeseed oil and regular rice with canola oil (taste test of health for my family). I’ve cuddled with Kitty Cat (cat number 1) as he ate and listened to Kobi’s conclusions from the article he read about how the body actually sucks minerals out of himself in order to digest white sugar. Earlier, I was pulling out weeds, admiring our broccoli and lettuce (and that glorious huge snail to the right of them). I noted the new white flowers on the apricot tree and breathed this deep and slow sigh of gratitude for my life being exactly how it is today.
When We Fall Apart
During the weekend, we went to Kibbutz Hanita to hang out with my sister and her kids. Most times we go there, we have a marvelous time and I get confused all over again. They have a huge cabinet always loaded with junk food and sugar, technology reigns, there are tons of expensive perks, and her kids actually sit in a classroom and learn academic material like most normal kids in first world countries do. Her kids have endless wide, open spaces [Dixie Chicks] in which to ride bikes, go on adventures, hang out with friends, and be out there doing the one hundred and ten activities their kibbutz life offers them.
And that overwhelms me all over again. I’m good with limiting the garbage that goes into their body and the hours they spend masterbating [figuratively] online. It’s not easy when most kids around them live a different reality, but I’m still good with that part. I’m also really good with the fact that my kids attend more of a summer camp educational system then an academic one. I’m very good with that for a thousand and ten reasons, including but not limited to the fact that I want them to learn how to love themselves, have fun, learn from passion, and not have their head stuffed with endless hours of meaningless garbage that they need to regurgitate back in order to meet some external standard of success. So, I’m good with their educational environment.
It’s just when you put us there, and the FOIL is so strong, and they’re outside doing so much and then that one dream on my list that I think won’t come true during my kids’ childhood flairs up and I get confused. Now, my mind can tell you a thousand reasons why we are so blessed to live exactly where we are, how we are, in the life that we live today. Like… We own our home and both Kobi and I are at home and available to our kids and if we lived elsewhere we’d be living a life under tremendous financial stress and all the ripples that comes with that. Our home and garden themselves give us great joy, tons of spaces to relax and go within, and is our safe haven of quiet solitude. Because my sister is the best host in the Universe and always welcomes us with open arms, my kids can enjoy many of the benefits of kibbutz life without the negative sides of it (and often we’ll put the older two on a bus for the weekend cuz they want to go when the rest of us don’t). The list goes on… including that I know many people who live on kibbutz and don’t enjoy nor really benefit from the issues that I think are fantasy-like-perfect and rather suffered from the closeness, gossip, intrusiveness, and lack of boundaries. So… I’m dealing.
How Blessed Can We Be?
I’ve also come to the grand conclusion that because my basic needs are all met with great blessing and flair- food, clothing, income, couplehood, health, normal and beautiful children, I have the honor to delve into those nuances, those finer points in life that I am privileged enough to dwell on. I’m looking at some painful childhood issues that are flaring up and dealing with how they and other dramatic stressors are housing themselves in my physical body. I’m so lucky to have all that I do in my life, to be married to this unreal partner, to have such light-filled normative relationships with my budding teenage children, and to be working in my passion. I’m living my life purpose, teaching parenting classes, bringing light to those who are motivated and open and ready to learn and get the unreal honor to watch them unfold and grow wiser and stronger and clearer in their own progress. It, and my gardening and my life (and my growing religiously devote in health, and my friendships, and the time I have to do all that my soul desires), is beyond awesome.
Was That Really Us?
I watch Angela Tabora’s remarkably well-done The Nomadic Family Pitch Video [above] and occasionally open up the site to remember that side of Who We Were. I read some blog entries and receive random emails from people sharing how my writing really works from them, and I’m happy. I’m happy we made that huge, insane dream come true when we did, for then it was right and perfect and now it is not. Now, my kids need to be home, dealing with social issues and learning how they fit into their homeland, and later, again, I am deathly certain that it will be right again for them and for us (but not necessarily together) to travel again.
In our seven-week Baltic Summer adventure through Sweden, Latvia, Estonia, and Finland we learned quite painfully that long-term, close-quarters, intimate travel without a structured lifestyle that allows for individual space and distraction is not what we would sanely do anymore. We look at the conditions we lived under , the risks we took, the voluntary homelessness we took as a given in our modest, trust-the-wind-and-the-kindness-of-locals nomadic lifestyle; we’re curiously confused and amused. “We did that shit?” and I read another blog entry and see some more YouTubes or look at those pictures and I’m convinced that it really was us, out of our home for three and a half years… Oh, the Places You Will Go.
Right now, I’m soooooooo ridiculously happy settling into our lives in Northern Israel that I even vetoed this summer’s planned adventure. “I want to stay home, Kobi. We have cats now. We have a garden” and so it will be.
Kobi and I will travel again. We’re already drooling over this and that adventure (including but not limited to driving a van from Alaska to Argentina, biking for a year through Europe, taking the kids to Boulder Colorado for their university years, and RVing in Australia) but not now and we’re not sure how even when we get there. We adore our kids and though they will grow up and more out of our lives, we can’t imagine disconnecting so much that we are not there for them (or our grandkids) in any way.
Kobi just started in April an 8-month travel guide course so that he’ll be certified to take groups of Israelis on trips overseas. I may take the course in November. That may be another form of short-term adventures (that bring income) that we go on. I’m hoping that in the next two years my kids settle better and better into their lives here. Dahnya went from absolute hell to a relatively steady and healthy place and we’re so happy to watch her blossom. Orazi and Solai are chugging along on their developmental journeys and we’re here for them in all the shades of that growth. I’m hoping to keep reconnecting to old ties from my career here before we left and keep finding groups and work that will bring us income and bring others and myself light. I’m hoping my mom’s health stabilizes and that only good blessings come to her and her life so that we can enjoy her in our lives and less worry. I’m hoping my healthy journey continues to embrace all that I am and that Kobi and I keep on this current trend of loving our relationship, learning from each other and appreciating every aspect of our lives.
Our Plans Next Summer
We’re planning to come to the States next summer (2017) to attend my baby brother’s marriage to his partner Daniel [!!!!!!!]. We’re hoping that cheap flight tickets, a free RV, and lots of great sponsorship and friend opportunities open up for us in the Rhode Island area, the Northeast, and Canada so that we can afford this amazing adventure that we know will be revolutionary for our family. If you’ve got connections or would like to invite us to anything (including but not limited to free meals, speaking opportunities, and free places to stay like housesittings with pets; no sexual favors in public, friends) let us know! Our entire Baltic Summer was an unreal display of staying 3 weeks at a friend’s house in Latvia whom we met in India, 3 weeks at two different friends’ houses in Sweden (which we met in Peru and in Malaysia), and a few God-kissed sponsorships in Lapland, Finland (We love Rovaniemi!!!), with carrentals and with the awesome folks at Talink Cruise Ships we sailed us all across the Baltics.
The Universal Giving and Revealing Herself
We’ve seen how the Universe invites us to explore, how the silver platter of opportunity and human kindness just magically unfolds before us to allow us to afford travel adventures that we simply have no way of paying for. We’ve seen it in the Baltics where our seven-week family adventure cost like two weeks, in Turkey where we were hosted for 6 weeks straight (and made gorgeous Muslim friends for life), and in Malaysia where we literally paid for 4 nights of accommodation during our three and half months there.
We know that these mini-miracles will continue to occur for us whenever and wherever we go in life. They are actually unfolding like the wings of a soft light-sparking firefly all, all, all the time. We’ve just got to slow down enough, stop enough, and witness it in every leave, in the wind, in people’s faces, and in our own unraveling personal life tapestries. It is so.
All my love to you on this glorious Spring day in Northern Israel,
PS: I’ve been offline and onlife for a while now. I’d be touched to read any reactions you may have. Mwah.