So lately I’ve been getting a lot of questions.  “Why Israel?”  “Why aliyah?”  “Why NOW?”  And my all-time favorite, “So are you Jewish?”  The former and the latter are generally proffered by non-Jews, but all are accompanied by a note of incredulity and a facial expression involving wide eyes and a gaping mouth.  I spent the past week in Seattle saying goodbye to my family and friends there, and answering the endless interrogations.  Because there are still so many details up in the air, I had a hard time satisfying everyone’s need for complete answers.  The concerned stares this tended to evoke left me feeling vulnerable and full of doubt.  I am currently feeling an intense (and perhaps defensive) need to justify this decision of mine, even while I am unsure of the justifications.

            So why Israel?  Well, there are the standard responses that always sound so trite coming out of my mouth, but are so true.  I love it there.  I feel at peace with myself, and I feel a part of something beyond myself.  As much as I’ve enjoyed certain parts of my life thus far, America has always felt very dead to me.  I believe we have paid a price for our ease of living, and our fanatic commercialism.  I frequently feel a very palpable lack of spirituality – not a lack of culturalism, or even of religiosity, but an utter absence of a genuine connection to something larger than ourselves.  And in Israel, despite all the other issues that must be dealt with, I feel an overwhelming sense of belonging.  When I look around the streets of Jerusalem, I am constantly struck by the realization that most of the people I see have fought for their country, and have made great sacrifices for their beliefs and lifestyle.  I see the collective struggle behind their eyes, and I see a love that transcends the traditional boundaries we set on our emotions here in America.

            And why aliyah?  Well, I’ve been there five times already as a tourist.  I’ve literally “been there, done that.”  I’ve attended a high school program there, and I’ve participated in a Holocaust study mission.  I’ve worked as a residential counselor in Hod HaSharon, spent time on a kibbutz in an Ulpan program, and I’ve even spent two months washing floors and laundry in a youth hostel in Jerusalem.  So I guess the only thing I haven’t done in Israel, and the thing I long to do the most, is really live there.  I am forever jumping from one trip to the next; packing just the bare minimum for a visit; spending my time in America plotting my next adventure.  I’m tired of just visiting Israel – and I’m realizing that I’ve never really invested in my life here because of my constant desire to be there.

            A few weeks ago, I was talking with a woman who made aliyah over thirty years ago.  She told me that my most formidable obstacle in this process will be negotiating my sense of identity and belonging.  She said it took her three decades to feel truly Israeli.  And until that point, she felt constantly at odds – never really American, never an accepted member of Israeli society.  She spoke of an all-encompassing loneliness at times.  Although I know that I will not be able to fully comprehend this until my arrival, I have felt a facet of this for years.  Since my first trip, my identity has been utterly bound to Israel.  When I am here, I talk only of going there – and yet, when I am there, I am the quintessential American in many ways.  It is frustratingly paradoxical.

            So why make this move now, you ask?  I will admit that it may seem insane to some.  And yet, I feel more strongly pulled towards Israel than I ever have before.  It has been said that adversity can create a much more intense strength and bond than times of calm, and I feel drawn to experience these challenges as a member of Israeli society rather than as a spectator peering through the windows.  And besides, I’m just tired of waiting.