Aliyah

With all our WhatsApp groups welcoming new olim to Israel (and answering millions of questions about banks, schools, and WIFI), the exciting NBN posts of families getting off the planes, and people assuming we are new olim because we are new to the neighborhood, one can't help but feel a bit wistful.

Those first few months, and that first year - everything was so exciting. So frustrating. So new. We were so new to this place; open, young, and ready to start a new chapter. All that fabulous idealism!

I was looking back at our own aliyah pictures today and was just thinking about how we had no clue what was coming down the pike- not just in terms of aliyah, but in terms of how the world would change in these last seven years. How Israel would be affected by it all.

Everything that would happen to us as a result of our choice to be here.

If I could go back to the woman in this picture and say anything, it would simply be, "You made the right choice for you."

The fact that you came here, is going to make whatever comes next bearable.

Your love of this land, and assuredness that the front row seat to the Jewish future would be worth it, will sustain you through the craziest things you can imagine.

I would tell her that life will change in a million different ways, and all the assumptions that she's made about what will be or could be, for good and bad, were wrong.

I think mostly I would tell her to continue to be as joyful as she felt; go on every road trip she had planned, see everything, meet everyone, keep opening herself up to everything she was afraid of.

That when everything closes, it will also open up again.

That when things get frightening, the skies will clear.

I would say that this land will change you.

Free you.

Nurture you.

And it will be better than you could ever imagine, even through the darkest times.

That you don't know the meaning of chaos yet.

Of disruption and grief and hope.

I don't know if I envy her or feel bad for her, Shira of 2018. What a ride it's been.

Anyway, mazal tov to all the new olim.

I pray this land and our people embrace you and make you feel like you're finally at home.

I hope your klita (absorption) is smooth and simple- exciting and full of joy.

I hope you discover all the beauty of this place, the power of its history, and how you can be a part of its future.

I bless you with good WIFI and a great butcher, easy parking by your new home, and kind neighbors that don't do karaoke on their mirpasot.

You're going to love it here.