Moving

I didn't move much between places in my life. I have enough fingers on one hand to count them. Every time I moved I knew I could go back to something familiar and comfortable that I knew and felt safe with (back home). So it's no wonder that my CEO reached the conclusion that I have traits that are attributed to the Bedouin clans of the Sinai Peninsula. But this time around I don't feel there is such a place. I'm moving without a fall back. I don't know where home is anymore. You probably think that I moved 3 months ago, but that was temporary (at least feeling wise). I still had my old apartment available for me. I still had somewhere to go back to. My old apartment still felt like home. But now I'm in the process of packing it up everything that is mine. It will be up for rent after some much needed maintenance work is done on it. It won't be my home anymore. It will be someone else's residence.
Like in Leon my I felt my real pilgrimage started, I feel now that I'm turning into a real pilgrim in my real life. I feel I just wonder from place to place without a place to call home. Without a place to go back to and feel safe when shit will hit the fan. It always does, that's why life stinks ;-) well in most cases.

Alone

There was a rather stupid reality show on television on Israeli channel 2 tonight. They took 2 girls and locked them in a loft without any connection to the external world. Brought 4 guys and let the girls choose of of them as a possible love candidate and all in 48 hours. One of the girls stroke a cord in me. She was my type: jet black hair. Medium height and build and sensitive and cynical as hell. I really wanted to watch the show, but the level of the show made keep flipping channels at a certain point I decided to go to bed and sleep (I'm very tired), but looking at the bed made me aware of the very unpleasant feeling of being alone and kept me from going to bed even though I'm dead tired. The thought and feeling keeps me wide awake and looking for something to catch my attention and distract me from the thought and feeling. But since it's the middle of the night there isn't really anything good to really attract my attention.
I will try to put myself in bed regardless. You will probably read another post about the outcome of it.

hasta mañana

sleepless

When I lived in Herzlia I used to be sleepless. It would be very hard for me to put myself in bed and fall asleep. I would put myself in bed only when I felt exhausted and fall asleep in front of the TV, very late at nigt. I used to think that it has to do with me being a night owl. But recent months disproved this theory. I always was more than happy to put myself in bed when I felt I was falling asleep or felt tired. Even on the inflatable matress that was my bed in the last couple of months.
I'm temporarily back in Herzlia and I'm at the same situation that was my daily thing for me while I lived here: I'm holding myself from putting my self in bed and sleeping. I don't know what it is, but something is definitly holding me back. I'm tired, there is nothing that atracts my attention and I'm actively looking for something to atract my attention and there is nothing. So I'm just drifiting hoping to find something that will atract my atension without me needing to go to bed. There is something about the house that makes me restless.
I thought on the way that I will feel some kind of connection to the house After all I lived here the majority of my life. But I don't feel any connection to the place. I actually feel repelled by it. I don't want be here. I feel bad about it. I feel like I'm bitraying my memories. Bitraying my parents memories. Drifting in the void of emotional space, not willing to attach myself to anything.

The right thing

Today I feel I did the right thing for a change. It's a rare thing for me to feel that I did the right thing and so it's worth a post ...
I had to buy a few things outside of the office, but being carless and driver license less (long story, maybe in another post) I asked my friend P to take me to the nearest home depot to buy the things I needed. With the hour being past 5 I asked him to take me home instead of back to the office (as originally planned). I diverted him because I decided that my dog is more important than work. (cinical mode on) My dog has an expiration date, work doesn't (cinical mode off). First thing I did when I got home was take him out. He took me to a corner of complex that has 'dog walk'. The 'dog walk' is a short path that goes through a small yard at the corner of the complex. It's pretty secluded and out of the way that it's usually empty. I also took some tennis balls with me so I could throw them and make him run a little (usually after 5 minutes he sits down and gives up on running after the tennis balls). I started throwing the tennis balls and indeed after a couple of throws he decided to strike: Sat down on the grass and start chewing on one of the balls. I decided not to give in and instead play with the second ball by myself. After a few moments he gave up and came by to try and get the ball from me. I threw it as far as I could and he ran after it. The game of 'fetch' went on for the better part of an hour. I decided to stop it because it was obvious that he was exhausted. Now an hour later he is still trying to recuperate from the game. It's been a couple of years (if not more) since I managed to make him play 'fetch' for so long. We both enjoyed the game so much that it made me feel like I did the right thing :-) It's times like this that I thought of when I decided to be selfish and bring him here.

about time (too)

This posting should have come in two parts. The first part was supposed to be published on April's fool day and te second one two days ago.

The post from April fools day: For a little bit more than two months my friend P housed me. Being a new guy in a new country and not having where to stay he let me into his home and let me disrupt his life for a very long time. Even though he doesn't like (or want) flat mates, he was a really good sport about my audities and my very different life style. He did complain when he thought there was place to complain (and when there was no place to complain, just of the sake of complaining, right P)? and I mostly ignored his complains. Sometimes I did listen and tried to accomodate his "peculiar" requests. All in all they were two very good months and even though he claims it wouldn't work for us as flate mates, I disagree.

So P. I owe you a very big thank you. I will never be able to repay you for your hospitality.

The second part is also about P ...
Because of a mistake done by the Israeli Immegration offices in his ID card there is a different birthdate than the original one. So instead of having 2 birthdays (like all Israelis) he claims to have 3: Original, Israeli INS one (which coincedently is also on April's fool day) and Hebrew one. In any case: His' original birthdate was two days ago. Happy birthday kiddo!!!

Bedouin

About a week ago the CEO of the company I work for asked me a question. My reply prompted him to categorize me as a Bedouin. My initial reaction was to answer: No I'm not (which is my instinct reaction whenever someone tries to categorize me). After putting some thought about his characterization I reached the conclusion that he is mostly right; Many years ago, just after Israel pulled out of the Sinai peninsula there was a TV show about the peninsula. Among others it talked about the Bedouin people that occupied it for hundreds of years. One of the things they said was about their habit of moving as lightly as possible and to enable that they used to fold everything into the tent cloth and hang the tent cloth on a tree. A Bedouin knew which cloth is his and which isn't. They respected each other privacy and didn't touch cloths that didn't belong to them (something that the Israelis traveling around the peninsula unfortunately didn't). I loved this rule of theirs. Years later I decided to adopt it and make my own rule out of it: What is mine is mine and I do what I want with it. What is others I don't touch before the person it belongs to gives me his consent. I called it: "live and let live". But since most people equate "live and let live " with something different I added "to the extreme" and when ever I tell people that I believe in "live and let live to the extreme" without explaining they shrug and go on without understanding.
But apparently it's not the only thing I've adopted from the Bedouin way of life. There are a few other things that I realized I took from them:
1. Be rootless.
2. Travel light.
3. Leave behind things you don't need for the journey. No one will touch them.
4. Material is just material. It can be replaced.
5. I will be able to go back and find the things I left behind the way I left them.
6. Do not touch other people's stuff unless really necessary.
7. Must ask for their permission.

I took me many, many (too many) years to understand that this simplistic way of thinking fits the secluded life the Bedouin people experienced, but doesn't fit my environment and way of life. I wish I was totally over it, but I'm not.
And maybe I got it all wrong (that won't be the first time, nor the last time).

hasta mañana