Do you see the tiny bench on the bottom left corner of the picture? That's where I sit. And from there, here is what the view is like, to my left:
And to my right:
"Never in my whole life have I felt as far from human perfection as now, and never has there been in me as strong and deep a desire to begin deliberate work to perfect myself towards the great ideal of moral improvement."
Zvi Schatz, 1913.
This is what he wrote in his diary. He was a "chalutzim" [which means the olim who went into agricultural work in the 1900s, in what was then the land of Palestine. "In modern Hebrew, chalutz connotes above all service to an abstract idea, to a political movement, and to the community." (Elon, p.112)] Probably not in this intensity, but this is how I feel about myself and my life, lately, or maybe for quite a while. I remember myself, thinking about my life couple of years before moving to the States. But it was certainly after my news documentary reporter experience. I knew I had to leave. So I did. And by the end of my first year at UM, I was almost sure what I really want to dedicate my academic work to. And it's not just antimilitarism, anti-nationalism, anti-war, documentary cinema, cinema, sociology, history and finally the whole world; it was not just one of them but a several different junctions where two or more converge. But it wasn't just academic doodling I wanted to do; and still I want to know, I want to see, explore, meet people, learn, and during or after every exploration, contribute something to the immensity of works (written down or physically achieved), hopefully nothing so cumbersome.
Reconsidering all that and more about productivity, made me go back to a chapter I have read in Amos Elon's "The Israelis, founders and sons" book. It's the same chapter that the above quote from Schatz comes from. Almost half way into the book, Elon talks about the second aliyah wave and what labor meant to them. I'd like to share some parts here:
"In some of the pioneers of the second wave, physical labor assumed an almost transcendental meaning; it afforded most of the psychological satisfactions commonly supplied by religion. The word avoda in Hebrew means both labor and worship. Labor was worshiped. The harder it was, in terms of pure exertion -and at times it led to total exhaustion- the more it was held up as a means to realize one's true self." Delirium, feeling satisfied and so happy after cleaning up, after running, after capoeira, after swimming, after squishing your food, planting seeds, working the soil. Feeling productive, being part of that productivity and the product.
Elon also introduced me to Aaron David Gordon (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A._D._Gordon). An interesting and inspiring person who was referred to as the prophet of the religion of labor despite the fact that he refused any kind of an association of that sort. The wikipedia page on him, although not so elaborate, seems like a good way to get encouraged to read more about Gordon. In Elon's book we find out that "at the age of forty-seven, a weak and ailing man with a flowing white beard, he became a manual laborer in the fields of Palestine... His teaching was a curious amalgam of cabalistic mysticism, populist agarianism, Zionism, and socialism, in that order of importance. He preached that only through physical labor could a man be redeemed. He called upon his fellow pioneers to become 'zealots of labor.' This was their only cure as men; as Jews they must not live by their wits but by their sweat. Gordon slaved by day in the fields. At nigh he would join the young workers in dancing the hora." (p115.)
"Gordon was a pacifist. He had a profound horror of all bloodshed, of force, and of all government. There were no racial or militaristic features whatsoever in his teachings. In the tradition of of Tolstoy and of the Hebrew prophets he did not believe in state power or politics, but in ethical action by the individual."
"Israel Giladi refused to wear shoes and walked barefoot as a matter of principle. His feet were covered with scratches and nasty wounds but he insisted stubbornly and said "Our feet must get used to the soil of the Land."
Why kismet? Oh, because I couldn't go to Tel Aviv today, as was planned. Why? Kismet. Well actually no, it's because of the scarcity of public transportation during Shabat. It's cool and all but I wish they had non-Jew drivers, for instance, for people who really don't mind taking advantage of the buses on a weekend! Anyway, it also started raining and I decided to ask Halim for a day off, on Thursday perhaps.
But this week will be nicely busy. Here's how:
Tomorrow: Capoeira with Adan and Halim,
Tuesday: Jerusalem with Timo
Thursday or Friday: Tel Aviv
Sounds good.
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