My Garden

I live in an area called Katamon. Its about a twenty minute New-York-City-paced walk south from Old City Jerusalem. This neighborhood is residential with white stone houses and huge gardens; gardens overflowing with succulents, palm trees, and the most deliciously fragrant flowers; gardens that more closely resemble tropical forests rather than manicured front lawns; gardens similar to the meadow Alice finds herself wandering through in Wonderland. Among the vegetation, one can find the five fruits of Israel in all their glory, basking in the Mediterranean sun. Over ripened pomegranates dripping bloody juice, staining the underbrush, olives and grapes in bunches so large the trees are developing a lean, dates and figs crystallized from the saturation of their own sugar. How can this be? How come all these plants, fruits, and flowers aren’t tended to? Pruned? Eaten? Or Harvested?

The answer, which sounds absolutely bizarre, archaic, and economically reckless, is that this past year was a Shmita year. Shmita is an event that occurs every seven years in the Land of Israel and literally means a Sabbatical year, kind of like a Shabbos for the trees. During this time, no one can gain or profit from the land. Just like everything I have been learning, there are a lot of reasons behind keeping Shmita, I'll provide two. The face value of shmita are the agricultural benefits allowing the soil to regenerate its nutrients. On a deeper plane, it represents putting your faith into G-d’s hands and trusting that sustenance will be provided. Interestingly, it always rains early in the season during Shmita (which is no small deal since Israel is a desert, in fact praying for rain is an integral part of the blessings a Jew makes every day). The Shmita officially ended with the celebration of the New Year, Rosh Hashana, last week. I feel very fortunate to have witnessed it at its pinnacle. The untamed, uncultivated gardens are sown into my memory.

On the topics of wildly untamed gardens, I have been given an incredible opportunity this past week. Allow me to preface this story by introducing the concept of “Hashgacha Protis”. Think back through your life. Just try and identify all the times you've encountered a mind-blowing coincidences or event that you just know was divinely ordained. Times that made you believe, if even for a split second, that everything happens for a reason, that there is a bigger picture, that you are a part of the divine comedy starring your favorite actors: you and the universe. Explaining Hashgacha is extremely difficult however the sages taught us that stories are usually the best way to illustrate a concept.

Here's the story:
Last week I was confronted by my body who sternly told me that I needed to improve my lifestyle. I went from living a very healthy lifestyle (eating organic foods, walking for miles, doing yoga) to sitting in a classroom from 7 AM to 9 PM breaking only to eat dodgy food from a miscellaneous catering company, not to mention that there is a bottomless jar of chocolate spread (how dare they put one of those in a building with thirty women!!!) sitting on the table that taunts me in my sleep. I give in to the chocolate, convincing myself it’s not so bad since I am dipping carrots. Nevertheless, my body was desperately screaming for me to find a balance, to bring some activity into my life. My body even started threatening me with "you're going to mentally burn out" "you're getting fat" "you'll miss the most beautiful season in Israel". As I am debating in my head, the head of the school was debating about what to do with all the gardens surrounding are campus now that the shmita is over. Somehow the Rabbi and others on the program got the notion that I am miss mother earth, which is actually quite funny since anyone can attest that my luck with plants is very little. That I tend to overlove them, resulting in their untimely death. That my green thumb is actually a sickly yellow. But nevertheless, someone planted this notion in their heads and I was asked to take charge of the landscaping on campus. I accepted the position. I love the gardens that surround my school. Every morning we have an hour for prayers and meditations which I spend in the middle of a purple lilac bush, eyeing the pomegranates ominously swinging over my head, watching the six foot rose bush's bulbs burst open. This is incredibly excited. I am hoping to hone my gardening skills. This also means that I’ll have an obligation to be outside toiling in the land of Israel. Now I really have gani (refer back to 1st blog entry)!!! Hashgacha Protis.

Anyways, I had a lot more to tell you about…my roommates, my classes, the holidays in Jerusalem, the temple down the block that resembles a hippie commune. But I’ve got to run, my cousin Harry and his wife, Rachel, just got to town (which means my suitcase is finally here) and Yom Kippur starts tomorrow which is followed by Sukkot, an awesome holiday that entails building huts and making parties in them (a grave oversimplification but worth noting).

With Love