NY Silent Peace Walk

NY Peace Walk

I went on a silent walk for peace last week.

It was organized as a demonstration to show support for Israeli-Palestinian solidarity. Designed with Buddhist principals, there was to be no shouting, no posters. Just walking and peace. About 500 people showed up, and after some introductory remarks by event organizers and peace leaders, we walked in a single file around Central Park for almost 2 hours. We were given white sashes to wear over our raincoats. The walk concluded inside the park where we split into small groups for discussion.

I met other like-minded people, which felt surprisingly more rewarding than I would have thought. I don’t go to things like this just to meet people who already agree with what I feel; I don’t really know strongly how I feel about certain things, but when you meet people who affirm certain notions you have but aren’t yet sure how to express them – it’s a actually a really beautiful thing.

NY Peace Walk

The experience was powerful in a number of ways for me personally. One of which involved me deciding to stay involved with the organization that coordinated the walk. It was also very meditative, and I enjoyed the deliberate pace at which we were walking and the deep reflection it lent itself to.

Coincidentally, the date of the walk, October 7 2012, happened to fall on the date of Simchat Torah – the final day of Sukkot, traditionally celebrated by circling the Torah 7 times. We happened to be walking around Central Park on a holiday that’s celebrated in pretty much the same motion . . .

NY Peace Walk

This Feels Pointless Sometimes

I don’t know why I’m keeping this blog really. My last post was not written in “my” voice. My mom wrote in the comments that other than my comparison to myself as a pedofile (as a reference to how I’d feel going to dog parks without being a dog owner), the post was “warm and heartfelt” — something syrupy like that.

I don’t like syrupy bullshit (a term coined by my dad recently), and I immediately called into question my purpose in blogging when I saw I had oozed the very substance I loathe into the blogosphere.

I just don’t know what the point of this is.

I have this need to “record” my experience in Israel – but I like the idea of recording it as a series of experiences, with common threads perhaps, but not necessarily so they all lead to one underlying message. I could just write this in a journal or on a file on my computer.

But I have an urge to get this out – beyond just me.

I just hate how wishy-washy this feels. And what is “this” anyway?

Part of me just wants to preserve the feeling of having recently lived in another country – that felt so much like home sometimes . . . but also not like it at all. I learned more about myself and the world in the last 4 years than in all the other years of my life combined. More than in college, by a long shot. More than the years right out of college. And I just hope I continue to feel that way, regardless of where I am living. I think my insecurity stems from an anxiety I feel, that if I’m within my comfort zone, I’m not testing myself. And if I’m not testing myself, I’m not affirming myself. Is this a condition? Do other people experience this constantly? Would it be alleviated with more creative expression?

That’s another huge problem of mine. Art. The constant berating myself for never making any. If there’s one thing that makes me attain a higher sense of self other than travel, it’s participating in the creation of artwork that feels as though it’s beyond my control. That I’m the one creating it, but it’s not just me – there’s something coordinating my eyeball and my hand in such a specific way that everything just makes sense.

OK that’s it. From now on, this blog will be my own voice. I’m worried of sounding too liberal or naive – but I kind of like being liberal, and a version of “naive”. . . there’s actually a Hebrew expression that means “false naive” but I can’t think of it at the moment, but that’s me. False naive. I know better, but like to challenge what exists by assuming ignorance.

So it’s decided. This blog will contain a selection of “false naive” pieces composed as a result of my living in Israel. Yofi.