Fields of Heaven

Three weeks had passed since Saul's visit to my home, my condition had improved greatly, and I was already able to walk quite freely. The pain also decreased considerably, although here and there I still felt stabbings in the chest and shoulder, especially when I wasn't careful and made a sudden movement.

But I haven't returned to work yet. From time to time, a colleague called me and asked how I was doing, and of course we had a courtesy chat, but at this point I still didn't open up to him and the other interested parties showing them some kind of opening for hope that I will be back soon. I wasn't ready for it yet.

The truth is: taking a break from work did me good. In years past, even when I took a vacation, it was hard for me to disconnect. My thoughts always came back and dealt with open-ended questions, and emails continued to flow and demand my attention. This time, apparently out of consideration for my situation, my co-workers refrained from bothering me and left me alone, wishing me to recover and return. I, for my part, quite enjoyed the freedom, which left me ample time for thought and reflection.

One day, Yael came up to me and suggested that we go up north for a bit and spend some quality time, just the two of us. She thought the change of scenery would help my recovery process, and I readily agreed.

I sat on the balcony in a guest house in Karkom, overlooking the mountainous Jordan. The view was stunning, the weather comfortable, not too hot and not too cold, just pleasant. A light wind blew and shook the leaves of the trees slightly, and on the horizon due south, stretched the Sea of Galilee bounded by the mountains of the Lower Galilee and the slopes of Gilboa to the west and the Golan Heights to the east. It was towards the end of spring, and the contrast of colors between the blue of the sea and the yellowing green of the surrounding mountains was spectacular. I knew that in a few weeks the landscape would be all yellow, and the heat in the area would become unbearable. It seems that the things that are ephemeral are the most precious to us, perhaps because by knowing the approaching end we try to make the most of every precious moment of the experience.

It was early in the morning, and I enjoyed the peace and quiet of those hours. As the day awakens, nature can be experienced without the hustle and bustle of modern life, which usually begins later. There is a price for my habit to wake up early, of course. When evening comes, I am devoid of energy and go to bed and even fall asleep well before midnight.

Yesterday, for example, we arrived at the hotel room quite late, and after the long drive from Modiin, I stretched out on the bed and fell asleep almost immediately. Now, sitting here alone, I remembered the dream from which I had awakened.

In the dream, I went back to being a child, and saw myself sitting with my father at a magician's concert. The magician was very agile and gave a convincing performance. He pulled out all kinds of animals and objects out of his hat, and it looked like the hat had no bottom. Another rabbit, and another dove, and a handkerchief, and a knife, and even an umbrella! In my dream, I remembered the movie Mary Poppins, in which she pulls out countless objects from her bag in an absurd way relative to its size. I asked my father in the dream, "How could the magician take so many things out of his hat?", and my father looked at me with a smile and said, "He's not taking them out, he's making them up." And as sometimes happens in dreams, suddenly I was an adult, and I sat again, this time alone, at a magic show by the same magician. The magician was now an old man, his movements were slow, and I noticed that he had a small workshop under the table, where he created all the objects and animals. I woke up with a sense of relief that lasted all morning.

I smiled to myself. I thought we were having dreams in which the occurrence could be completely imaginary. That is, it is usually made up of characters we know, but the action itself, the scene that unfolds during the dream, can be almost as wild as in science fiction movies.