This Morning

View of Jerusalem from my cafe. Signs to Ma’ale Adumim (the largest Israeli settlement in the Occupied Palestinian Territories/West Bank) and to the Mount of Olives.

I walked out of the August Victoria Hospital compound where my guest house is.  Just outside, to the right of the main gate, was an Israeli army truck and five or six armed soldiers standing around.  I noticed the bulletproof vest of one woman in particular.  It overtook her entire torso, practically swallowing her petit figure.  It was packed with eight, maybe ten, tear gas canisters.  She was probably 20 years old.  

I proceeded along the narrow dirt path toward the café where I was headed.  I soon spotted many more soldiers where I’d seen just four the previous two days.  They were on both sides of the street.  Standing in front of a gate across from me were a handful of armed soldiers as well as men in official black polo shirts with Hebrew writing on them.  The gate was open today, revealing a sort of paved park with a pop-up canopy.  There were a few small groups inside and more Jewish Israeli families arriving in number.  Most notable was a cluster of 18-20 young people of army-age with large Israeli flags and a few other flags, perhaps of their battalion. 

I continued on my way.  More armed soldiers stood at the roundabout.  I turned left.  A few minutes down the road I heard chanting.  I paused, put my hand over my brow to get a look through the glaring morning sun and dust.  The cluster of youth with the flags were marching down the Mount of Olives, chanting, their flags waving high. 

It disturbed me.  I wish the sight of them stirred up positive feelings in me.  I wish this were an innocent, lovely, demonstration of delight.  But I knew their marching and chanting was not simply a celebration of Sukkot and collective joy.  I knew it was also a provocative action, inciting.  Only Jewish Israelis have the freedom to march where they please.  Only Jewish Israelis can call on the military to stand guard while they go to predominantly Palestinian areas, to intimidate or protect, whether the threat is real or imagined.  The sheer presence of the military reflects societal criminalization of Palestinians, assuming they would attack Jews.  (This made me think of how black people are treated in the U.S.  The policing and targeting of black people.  It made me think of the police exchange program, GILEE, the U.S. police have with the Israeli military...)  Never could Palestinians come to a predominantly Jewish area to march, chant, or just hang out.  The military would not come stand guard for Palestinians, even though they are the Israeli military and the Palestinians here are also Israeli citizens.

The Jewish Nation State Law passed last year clearly states only Jews have the right to self-determination.  Only Jewish people have the ability to do as they like.  Be as they like.  Go anywhere they like.  While Palestinian Israelis do not have these rights.  They are not equal.  They are second class citizens.  Even their native language, Arabic, is no longer an official language according to this law.  This is what disturbs me. 

Most days I don’t witness such clearly provocative actions.  Most days I just see soldiers here and there.  I see the Jews and Palestinians weaving in and out of each others’ presence in the Old City, some even socializing together.  Daily I have conversation about the occupation, see the separation wall and checkpoints from my guest house on the Mount of Olives, but I don’t witness incitement like I did this morning.  And this was minor, so minor, and yet it still had such an impact on me.  The strong emotions always take me by surprise because in theory something like a march doesn’t seem like it would be so disturbing.  But then the emotions hit you and they inform you something isn’t right.  They are talking to you.  And you can choose to listen or not.

I walked on.  I thought about the “Mindful Moment” that had popped up on my phone this morning: “We can’t control everything that happens, but we can change our experience of it.” Then I thought about the verse from the Beatitudes of Jesus I had read earlier this morning, “Blessed are the forgiving for they are free.”  I paused, looking across the valley to the hill the group was tromping down.  I took a deep breath and let out a good, long exhale.  I released the emotions.  Remembered I am not the emotions.  I am free.  I turned my heart to toward the marching crowd, I offered them compassion and peace.  Be free to love.  Free from fear.   I forgave them.  I prayed for peace for them.  Then I smiled as I took note that I’d put on my bracelet that says “Peace” this morning for the first time in weeks.   

Everyday, twice a day, I receive these Mindful Moments and read a different beatitude, and most days they wash over me.  I receive them, but they don’t waft back up as they did today.  I was reminded of the value and importance of daily engaging wisdom that can guide us with clarity.  Many days I don’t need them.  But anything can happen, and on days like today when circumstances stirred up aggravating emotions, I was able to notice them and not get swallowed up by them.  The wisdom provided me with clarity about how to respond to these things I witnessed, guided me into a new, life-giving way.  Not being clouded by emotions, and also not denying them.   

For now, what I have the capacity to do is not engage closely with people acting aggressively.  I observe them and offer them compassion and love. But don’t feed hate or fear.  And when I notice anger, grief, or disturbance rise up in me upon seeing them I make the choice to turn to love, offering love to myself and loving energy to them. 

I continue to ask myself, what is my role here?  What is mine to do?  Who am I to be?  I keep coming back to light and love.  These are my essence and thus this is who I am to be and in turn emanate out.  Love and light guide me in when and how to speak out with my voice, my actions, and my presence. 

I truly believe love is the greatest power there is and through it miracles happen.  Miracles are what are needed here.  Miraculous healing.  Freedom, equality, dignity, harmony, unity through miraculous loving power.  And this is all possible.  If we all turn our hearts and minds to such a beautiful reality, the reality of how we are meant to live, in unity with one another and oneness with the earth, the sooner it will arrive.  I hope you’ll join me.