Day Eight: Adjusting to the New Reality
Inspiration from a shliach
Today was a slow day. The sort of day you have when you’ve adjusted to a new reality. When you’re not spurred on by the adrenaline of adventure, and the sort that comes when you realize you should probably stay close to your nearest bomb shelter.
There’s a lull that has descended upon Jerusalem. Not a sleepy lull; a tense one. Not the tired feeling you have when satiated, but the kind that comes when you’re tired. That’s how I felt when I woke up this morning. Actually, I didn’t wake up. I failed to fall back asleep after last night’s latest air raid siren.
It came at about 4:15 am. I went down to the shelter with my cousin and we just sat in silence. I passed the time by sending his mother voyeur shots of him, droopy eyes and all.
We sat there for exactly 15 minutes and went back upstairs. I tried to fall asleep but I couldn’t. Instead I went for a walk through the quiet streets of Jerusalem. My headphones played for me a symphony of my favorite neo-classical tunes, vacillating between Roberto Cacciapaglia and Wim Mertens. Then I had a change of thought and switched to a more location-appropriate Mordechai Ben David and Avraham Fried. You’ll notice the lack of Ishay Ribo and Chanan Ben Ari. I don’t really care for their music between me and the world.
My walk was long and uneventful. I returned to the apartment a couple of hours later and managed to catch a couple of hours of fitful sleep, my phone ringer on loud just in case an alert came through.
I woke a little later, ate my pesekzman and headed to my cousins for a coffee, hung out there for a little while and then returned home.
I took care of a few errands, grabbed a shawarma (6.5/10 bh, getting better), and then got some work done.
I had the privilege of speaking to Rabbi Menachem Mendel Gluckowsky, the chief rabbi of Rechovot, for a story I wrote for Chabad.org.
In the course of my work for a mosad, I have had the privilege of speaking to many shluchim from all corners of the globe. Some stand out to me more than others.
Some for their earnestness, others for their impressiveness, some for their zichronos they share with me of their time with the Rebbe, some for their menschlichkeit, some for how cool they sound or how innovative their programming is. There are some who are on the ball, others who are one step off the ball but close! In short, there are many impressive shluchim out there.
Rabbi Gluckowsky is one of them.
He told me about the work he’s doing in the wake of the devastating missile attack this week and of the lessons he shared with his community. Where I was sitting in my shelter quietly trying to observe, in his shelter in Rechovot he was leading his community in prayer and in Torah observance.
And as I sit in Israel, an Australian born, American made chosid, the words of Rabbi Gluckowsky ring true:
“It’s important that we are able to cut through the pessimism and give in to optimism,” he told me via WhatsApp video call, minutes after he taught a Torah class to his community. “The Rebbe [Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory] always said that ‘peace’ agreements do not bring about peace. We knew about this. What we’re seeing right now is that in addition to the warnings, the Rebbe also gave us ammunition to deal with this—namely, through spreading the observance of Torah and mitzvahs.”
And any shliach who in the course of regular conversation finds a way of bringing up a sicha, or any other vort from the Rebbe, gets my respect any day of the week. Many don’t.
And that’s how I plan to hit tomorrow, with my ammunition in hand, ready to take on the world.
It was a pleasure to speak to you Rabbi Gluckowsky and I hope to do so again soon.
That’s where I leave you this evening after an uneventful (if you can say that about life in the middle of a rocket zone) yet fulfilling day. Thanks for tuning in! See you tomorrow!
