Full Moon Feelings in Eretz Yisrael

Why can’t I just feel “good”?

I keep resisting whatever this is inside.

The uneasiness is hard to explain.

Like I’m uncomfortable within my body, here in this place.

What is this place?

It’s not where I’m meant to be. Not really, anyway.

My soul knows; it’s not natural.

But I — like other souls in human bodies — usually try to ignore the feelings of discontent.

To numb or distract it. Tasks. Work. Food. Scrolling. Medication.

Many names we use for the internal unrest — anxiety, depression, ADHD.

After all these years as my internal companions, I know you have messages for me.

But too often I forget — and instead I judge, resist.

This time, I choose to pause.

“What do you want?” I ask. “I see you. I hear you.”

“It’s okay that you’re feeling this way,” my inner loving parent tells the scared child within an adult body.

The authentic me wants me to express what’s inside, the thoughts and feelings so often ignored.

So I make us some almond tea with honey.

Put a hand to heart.

Deep breath in, long exhale

I notice the body. Toes, feet.

Legs, thighs, stomach, chest, shoulders, arms, hands.

Throat, mouth, nose, eyes, forehead, scalp.

You have done great things, You, O Lord my God. Your wonders and Your thoughts are for us. There is none to equal You; were I to tell and speak, they would be too many to tell.

Tehillim 40:5

Deep breath in, long exhale

Deep breath in, long exhale

I notice the thoughts of the mind.

And let them float through like clouds.

They aren’t real. Past and future, not this moment

Full moon, luteal phase

Sukkot, Hashem’s embrace

I sit on the ground in the park with my daughter and our foster dog, who was abused and tied to a tree in an Arab village. Her name, Lieby, is Hebrew for “my heart.”

I am now in Eretz Yisrael, the Holy Land, with my family. We made Aliyah last month.

For the first time in this life, I know I’m Home. But the inner messages are stronger here, more persistent, harder to ignore.

I feel the breeze on my face, see the fig tree leaves gently rustle.

Later, I dance the merengue with my son to Paul Eugene exercise videos.

Gabor Maté’s Wisdom of Trauma and epigenetics, we transform darkness to light.

Jewish progroms, persecution, exiles — my great-grandparents flee from the unthinkable, across borders and oceans.

I am a Jewess, Morasha bat Chaya Leah bat Sadie bat Lizzie… in an unbroken chain connected to our matriarchs Rivkah, Leah, Rachel bat Sarah…

Like the holy women who came before me, I turn to You, G-d, in prayer and gratitude.

Healing is a non-linear journey. As Rumi says, “The wound is the where the light enters us.”

Not feeling “good” is my guidepost, my reminder to feed my soul. To seek the light

To surrender, and let You be my loving guide

Blessed are You, G‑d, our L‑rd, King of the Universe, for having made me according to His will.

Mindy Rubenstein has worked as a professional journalist and writer for more than two decades. Her essays and articles have appeared in publications around the world. She also serves as founding editor of NisheiORA, a literary and arts magazine for Jewish women. Mindy is a mom of four living in the hills of northern Israel. Read more here.

Sukkah in the Holy Land

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