Shabbat

Sometimes you don’t realize how hard you’ve been working until you stop. Clearly my body discovered that in a profound way today. I mentioned yesterday how I was looking forward to some rest this Sabbath day. That was my mind’s version of the situation. My body had a different take. It shut down like Mea Sh’arim on Yom Kippur. If I even dared to move (even to worship) it threw stones at me as if I had just violated the most sacred commandment.

I went down to an early breakfast—7:30 am—ate and shmoozed briefly with some ride buddies so as not to miss our tour guide’s walk to the edge of the makhtesh. Contrary to my report yesterday, we are not on the rim of a large crater or a canyon or anything else you have likely heard of. There are few makhteshim in the world—three notable ones, and a few others scattered about the Middle East. Their geological structure is unique. Wikipedia it if you want the details. What I find amusing is that this Hebrew word “makhtesh” is the common word used by geologists world over. Someone pointed out that “lava” as a term is similar in that it is a Hawaiian word.

The important thing is that the crumbled mountains of the makhtesh have created yet another spectacular view. We will get a close up look at the makhtesh tomorrow when we cycle however many meters down into it. I’m not sure how much climbing will be required to exit it!

This morning my intentions were to go straight from the walking tour of the makhtesh to Shabbat services. I carried my siddur the whole way. When we arrived back at the hotel my body started to protest. I had no option but to nap. After 20 minutes I was up and ready to go to services. Somehow, on the way, I ended up back in the dining room having some more breakfast with another set of ride buddies. At the conclusion of that I picked up my siddur and tallis bag. I had brought them with me in a second vain attempt to go to pray. Once again my body cast a veto. Unlike at home where I have been known to go to shul and occasionally nod out for a few minutes during the Haftara reading, this time I went directly to my room for another two hours of sleep. Finally, it seems, I had gotten the message that these short nights and long cycling days were demanding physical renewal on Shabbat far more than spiritual.

I woke up in time for lunch! The Israelis real know how to put out a spread of food. Enough said.

Later we all gathered to listen to the young alumni of the Arava Institute describe their experiences there. Very inspiring, not only regarding the environment, but all the more with regard to breaking barriers and stereotypes between Israelis, Jordanians, Palestinians.... Each young person had a unique story and they all had a common thread. The vision is that \these will be the future leaders of their respective societies and will help break down barriers for all.

When the program ended one of the ride leaders started describing the rest of the day’s events as were approaching the end of Shabbat. Tears literally welled in my eyes at the very thought of seeing this Shabbat slip away into the night. I never needed Shabbat more in my life and I never wanted to hold onto it more. While this response is very much situational it also suggests to me the possibility of looking more carefully at Shabbat back home. This week is an extreme example that points to how hard we work and how much we need to take a break. It is easy to overlook the stresses of even a “normal” week and how important Shabbat is every week.

The day ended with a briefing on tomorrow’s ride—hard to believe we will be back in the saddle again. Dinner followed the briefing—of course!