Lately I find myself wrapped up in this big old city and wonder "How does one find meaning in the mundane? How does one find the oneness of it all?" Too many times I am wrapped up in memories of myself at 19, 20, 21 and 22 when it all began. Like blankets they warm me, and when it is too much I begin to shed the layers. Nineteen I lost and found myself. Twenty I grew stronger. Fell in love. Twenty-one I grew even stronger still. Found Israel. Twenty-two I unravelled, fell out, fell hard, fell more deeply in love with Israel still, lost myself.
When the memories rush like waters flowing from a broken dam, I find myself uncontrollably caught falling downstream with them until I wash up on the shores of serenity. If only I could find a way to stay on those shores.
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