Cathy's TravelingGeek Wrap-up

May 21, 2008 | Comments (0)

With the mental maelstrom sorted, I'm clear of mind enough to hammer out some final thoughts from my Kinnernet/Traveling Geeks 2008 adventure in Israel.

In the spirit of brevity (and clarity), I'm opting to embrace my not-so-inner-Virgo moon and clear out these last items in short order.

So fasten your seat belt, and perhaps keep a crash helmet nearby, as I whip through a series of powerful and impactful events:

Rogozin School
There is, at some point, a far more in-depth commentary from me about this visit. For now, however, I'll defer to the words of my fellow TG, Robert Scoble because his truly touching post paints a lovely picture of our visit.

Peres Center for Peace
In December 2006, I had the pleasure of hearing Shimon Peres speak at LeWeb. He said that while governments might posture and make noise about peace, the truth is that it was up to the private sector to establish the infrastructure necessary to maintain and grow a peaceful society. That is what the Peres Center for Peace endeavors to do - bridge chasms between disparate groups by bringing the sides together to tackle common issues (education, agriculture, children).

Good Vision
Sadly I missed most of this presentation. As was the case with pretty much our entire week, we were running late. Based on an earlier version of our schedule, which showed Thursday afernoon open, I had arranged a series of meetings with entrepreneurs in Tel Aviv.

My TG colleagues who took part in these meetings each offered glowing reviews. But rather than try and paraphrase, I'll point you to Renee Blodgett's accounting of the visit.

Israeli Entrepreneurship - the Ladies' Way
This trip to Israel brought with it several opportunities to meet a few of the powerful women rising in the ranks of this innovative community. Susan Mernit wrote a great post that captures the essence of how the woman who populate this incredibly aggressive and rapidly moving technology market manage to blaze trails while remaining utterly committed to forward movement of technology and in supporting other women in the market.

My last meeting finished up at about 7:00pm. The Traveling Geeks were to have one last dinner together, but unfortunately some pressing deadlines back in the States required that I work through dinner (since I'd spend the entire next day on the plane).

I sent the last email, got my bags pretty much packed, and that's when I made a decision that, while perhaps not the most intelligent choice I've ever made, certainly was fun.

Our flight was to depart at about 8am. That meant getting to the airport by 6am. Which meant leaving the hotel around 5:15am.

"No problem," I thought to myself. "I just won't go to sleep."

Oy.

While the tales of the evening are amusing, I have to think about whether or not they're appropriate to share ... (and of course if I have to think about it, that probably means the answer is that I shouldn't).

But in any case ... with the trip now in the rearview mirror and many adventures on the horizon, I conclude this last Traveling Geeks Israel 2008 post... and look forward to the future and more TG adventures!

The universe whacks me upside the head... Well, more like a kick in the calf...

May 19, 2008 | Comments (0)

It's been a month. More than a month, actually. On the one hand, the time has flown by. But even with the rapidly flying calendar pages a month can be a very long time.

Especially when you find yourself creatively constipated.

In my case it's largely due to the fact that for the last several weeks (four weeks, to be specific) I could have sworn I was sitting on a large pile of what felt like five or six chewy blog posts.

That rather lumpy mass, however, was something else in disguise.

Procrastination.

My last post to this site, was part of my ongoing ruminations from Israel. The trip, sparked by my participation at Kinnernet 2008 and enabled by my inclusion in the TravelingGeeks, largely fell into the "business" category of things, but after a powerful day in Jerusalem I found my pattern of posting from the road interrupted.

We had several more great experiences on the trip, each of which inspired an array of ideas for commentary. All of which I began - and then abandoned to the draft folder on my computer.

One by one the stories emerged, and one by one I began the dutiful process of capturing the ideas and beginning to sort them. (My first pass on writing anything more resembles a ball of yarn after a kitten's gotten hold of it than something with any semblance of reasonable sequiturs.) Overstimulated with little time to process each adventure, I found myself unable to focus on completing anything.

Thus the stories began to back up, and as the trip was coming to an end I knew that once I got home, it was back to the rapid-pace adventure of Seesmic business development with little to no opportunity to clear out the backlog.

A bit of time passed (don't recall how long, but it was within a couple of weeks) and the TravelingGeek squad began tossing around emails regarding closure for the live chronicling of our adventures.

Shit.

I had these posts to do and there was no WAY I'd get them done.

Rethinking the situation I figured why not just toss out a set of bullet point observations from the balance of the trip, perhaps with a dash of pith and eloquence (or at least a smidge of wit), and call it a day.

Even that proved impossible. Hitting the ground moving at about Mach 4 upon my return, the brief window of respite required to give me the time to focus even to jot down a list eluded me. Days began to whip by even more quickly, and each day my to-do list had the glaring entry - 'FINISH POSTS FROM ISRAEL'.

But alas even increasingly large print, all bold, all capitalized please from my own psyche failed to work.

Then the universe helped me out.

It was May 16, 2008. My pal Jessica Corbin and I had agreed to play in a softball game. It was the first inning. It was a bit of an odd start - mostly because I found myself playing 3rd base. (Generally an inadvisable place for a leftie to play, but that's neither here nor there with this tale.) About four batters in, with one out and a runner on first, it happened.

It was a beautiful pitch, and the batter connected.

Crack. (Well, more like "ping" since all the bats are metal alloys these days.)

Flying off the bat, the ball soared over my head - clearly a shot headed for the outfield.

Then the wind shifted. The ball began to drop short.

It was very clear, very quickly that the ball was going to drop just behind me. A bellow from the center fielder who had a clear view of the ball's trajectory confirmed my assumption: "BROOKS! It's yours!"

Turning I took two steps back, placing myself well in position. I then pushed off my right leg to give myself the extra height I needed to snare the ball.

The first sound was a welcome one. The ever-satisfying and resounding contact of ball meeting leather.

Thwack!

The second sound - well, more like a sensation really - came simultaneously ... and was far less pleasing.

Pop!

That came from my right leg.

The good news is that I held on to the ball, and we secured our second out of the inning.

The bad news is that I spent what was left of the inning standing on one leg, realizing that something was awry in my right calf.

Hobbling off the field after the next out, I headed for the dugout.

More good news - the team that played just before us was a group of pharmacists and doctors. Running me through a series of "Does it hurt when you do this? How about now? Can you move your ankle?" the group consulted and then agreed - either a deeply pulled muscle or perhaps a tear. Now that tear could have been a small tear in the muscle itself or perhaps off the bone, but regardless the treatment would be the same.

RICE - of course referring to the acronym and not to the application or consumption of starchy grains.

My personal experience is that the universe has an uncanny knack for serving up precisely what you need at the time you need it.

My writing style needs space - mental and physical. It also needs light. With the substantial clog of partly formed story bits in my brain, none of them could form. And I certainly couldn't get out anything new until I stopped to breathe.

Or until something knocked the air out of me.

So here I sit ... well ... here I lay, actually. (There's a sad decadence to typing away on my computer while propped up on a frothy stack of pillows with my bum wheel perched atop a leg wedge from my chiropractor and a sack of frozen peas.) And so in this diagonal state I'm choking down a massive serving of content bran, which in my case means I've cleared off my kitchen table, sorted and taken care of the stack of mail, and most importantly, I let myself be still and wrote this blog post; which means I can finally tie up the loose ends from my Israeli adventure in April and truly turn my eyes towards what's next.

From Old City Inspiration to New Ventures: A day in Jerusalem

April 16, 2008 | Comments (0)

The last 24 hours have been somewhat strange for me. There's been a sizable amount of meshugass on this trip - misfired communications, sardine-like conditions of our "bus" (which was actually a late model Ford van that the Israeli Consulate very graciously replaced today with a proper tour bus... YAY!), and the TG gang consensus that our goals for the trip and the itinerary were a bit off kilter.

Fellow TravelingGeek, Sarah Lacy, wrote a bit about our rebellion on Monday - an act that set into motion quite a few interesting activities and experiences.

As a result I have several half-finished posts sitting in my draft folder that I've just not been able to complete. (Confession: I'm a relatively newly minted blogger in terms of style. My writing has always tended to be a bit more in-depth analytical second day story type of stuff, so this whole rapid-fire writing thing is a new challenge).

In any case, that mini-backlog of items is going to have to wait a bit longer because after today's adventures I'm focused on something deeply important to me.

Faith.

More specifically the way in which faith inspires.

It's funny to think that on my first trip to Jerusalem in the summer of 1995, I found myself nearly paralyzed at my first approach to the Western Wall.. While I've only returned to the spot twice since that time, I've had exactly the opposite experience on each return. Rather than feeling repelled by the energy that comes off of this majestic edifice, it's as though a tractor beam grabs me, pulling me in.

But I'm getting ahead of myself... the story begins when we began the most enjoyable forced march you can imagine.

The TravelingGeek squad arrived in Jerusalem this morning and was met immediately by the warmly intense visage of Tikva Levine - the woman who was to be equal parts tour guide, historian and drill sergeant for our marathon morning. We had two hours to conquer a pretty substantial amount of territory in the Old City.

With Tikva charging in the lead, conquer it we would.

We began on the sun-drenched perch that is the Walter and Elise Haas Promenade. Tikva gave a superb overview, explaining the physical geography of the City, the history behind it, and the outlined where we'd go. Then it was back to the bus and off for the walled City.

Unlike my first Old City walking tour, which focused wholly on the Jewish aspect of this place, our tour encompassed the Christian Quarter and part of the Arab Quarter as well. We entered through Zion Gate, one of seven open gates into Old Jerusalem. With little time to spare, we proceeded in a near sprint from spot to spot - David's Tomb, the room in which The Last Supper is said to have taken place, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.

(Note: I took quite a few pictures, as did Renee Blodgett, JD Lasica and Susan Mernit. When those get posted I'll add in the links here)

Out of deference for the personal experiences of my colleagues, I won't share what specifically occurred for some as we made our way along. If they wish to share what they felt, then they will do so in their own time in their own way.

These are personal experiences and not everyone writes with their heart stapled to their sleeve as I do.

Suffice to say that for more than a couple TGs there were tears accompanied by statements about feeling connected, overwhelmed with a sense of belonging, and ultimately a sensation that whatever feelings or beliefs they may have held before, their lives were now changed.

For me, the wave of emotion hit upon emerging from the Arab Quarter into the bright light of the plaza by the Western Wall. My body went into autopilot and I made a beeline for the spot where I have gone in the past. My forehead against the warm, silken stone I got that feeling - the one the draws me back again and again.

It's an incredible sensation that I've plugged in directly to a spiritual mainframe, with energy pulsing and throbbing through thousands of years of prayer into my body, racing through my limbs and back again. The tears began before I could even form a thought in my head, and welled up thickly behind my closed eyes. It's not until I briefly blinked a few minutes later that the flood streams down my face.

My time at the Wall was only about 10 minutes, but in that time I felt an eternity of energy and peaceful power seep into me. As is customary, I placed a note between the stones of the wall. I'd taken several minutes at lunch to write down some thoughts and wishes - both for myself and for friends. Backing away (you don't turn your back on the Wall, instead you're supposed to stay facing it and back up to the end of the plaza out of respect for the Holiness of the place).

We bade farewell to Tikva at this point and headed for a meeting with Jerusalem Venture Partners. Needless to say, at the time it was the last thing I really wanted to do. As we all rode on the bus towards the offices, we opened our computers and began to silently check email.

And then the Twitter frenzy began.

I'm not sure where it started, but unless you're subscribed to @cathybrooks, @sarahcuda, @renee27, @susanmernit, @jdlasica, and @scobleizer ... Well, let's just say that you missed a ridiculously hysterial (and yes, rather juvenile) stream of shenanigans.

(And by the way if you're NOT subscribed to all of those folks, I'd highly recommend you change that ... While we're going our separate ways at week's end and won't be cloistered in a bus any more, I get a sense the Twittering antics will continue ... but I digress...)

So we pulled up to the JVP offices still recuperating from our hysterics - the kind of deep, belly laughter (that for Sarah and me ended in massive coughing fits as we've both been sick on this trip).

Frankly I was worried about my ability to focus during the meeting. I didn't think that after such a deeply spiritual experience, capped by a near exhausting session of laughter that I would find anything else of interest.

I was wrong.

As this post is already rather lengthy, and since Robert Scoble captured quite a bit via his ever-present Nokia N95 and Qik. I'll wrap up by saying this...

Not only was I not bored, I found myself deeply engaged and wishing we had more time.

Perhaps it has something to do with the energy and power of this place that helps energize and propel the superb level of innovation I've seen this week.

After my experience at the Wall today, I tend to think that's the case.

Geeks and Heroism in the Holy Land

April 15, 2008 | Comments (0)

Our little ragtag TravelingGeek posse has had quite a time this week. Through our array of experiences - from the unsinkable Sarah Lacy battling what may well be Pneumonia and the startling experience Craig Newmark had while visiting Seambiotic - the wandering geeks have bobbed and weaved through minor adversity, managing to maintain a mostly jovial energy throughout.

But unexpected experience is part and parcel of life here, and I believe are also central to why, as one of my TravelingGeek compatriots, Robert Scoble, commented today, Israel is probably the only place outside of Silicon Valley where the pulse of entrepreneurship beats as powerfully.

From where I sit (which I should mention is on a brand new bus that the Israeli Government got the TravelingGeeks today for our trip to Jerusalem!), it's clear why innovation and entrepreneurship thrive here.

It's about fear ... or perhaps better to say, lack thereof.

One of the most critical ingredients to a well-baked entrepreneurial spirit is courage. This includes an ability to power forward in the face of adversity and confusion, the inner strength to get up and try again should the venture fail and the skill to focus on the task at hand, even when chaos reigns around you.

Just before our posse rebelled against the planned agenda on Monday, we took a visit to Rambam Medical Center.

Located on the far north of the country, this facility is one of five major hospitals in the country. It's also 35KM from the Lebanese border. In the summer of 2006, when war broke out and Ketusha rockets began raining from the skies, the staff of this facility stayed by their posts - even when the rockets began to fall closer and closer to them.

My fellow TG Susan Mernit did a quick post about our visit that you can read here.

And here are some pictures I took of Rambam from an overlook above Haifa.

So what does this have to do with entrepreneurship and start-ups?

In my mind it's simple.

When you have a culture where getting on the bus in the morning and going to work carries such a powerful risk - like potentially being blown up by a rocket or suicide bomber - the spector of failing at a start-up, I think, pales in comparison.

The people here - be they Israeli or Arab - have a sense of purposefulness about their day to day existence that keeps a rather healthy perspective on that which we sometimes take all too seriously back here in the cush and comfort of the US.

My Israel transition day

April 13, 2008 | Comments (0)

You know that whole thing about six degrees of separation?

Well, here in Israel that's more like .025 degrees.

As I mentioned in a previous post, I awoke this morning to a rather startling discovery. I had lost my voice.

But this wasn't one of those raspy, Lauren Bacall-sounding vocal issues, this was a flat out, phone rang, I picked it up, tried to speak and nothing came out. Not even a squeak. This was most distressing because I was due to speak on a panel at The Marker COM.vention in a few hours time.

What does this have to do with degrees of separation?

On further thought it's more like one degree of separation meets a strange game of telephone.

I called Brad Reddersen, the key point person for the TravelingGeek squad, to tell him of my dilemma and say that I'd be arriving at the conference a bit late as I wanted to try and salvage some voice for the panel.

He offered words of comfort, said I should call if I needed him to do anything, and that he'd see me later.

Thanks to a lengthy steam in the shower, buckets of hot tea with honey and a half pack of throat lozenges, I regained enough vocal capacity to head for the conference. And after a 20 minute taxi drive through the muggy morning I arrived.

That's when it began.

Conference organizer Nathan Lipson greeted me at the door, his arms open for a hug and a deeply concerned look upon his face

"Cathy, I heard you're sick? Are you okay? Can I do anything for you?

Smiling, I sidled up to him so as to avoid speaking too loudly and quietly whispered that I felt fine, just needed a bit of vocal rest, some more vocal hydration and I'd be ready to rock.

I headed for the conference cafe to hydrate, and had gone no more than 5-10 yards when I ran into Nimrod Kosklovski of PLYMedia.

He looked worried.

"Cathy, I heard you were sick. Are you okay?"

With a smile, I gestured that I'd merely lost my voice and was heading to get myself some tea. He smiled back. "Ah, a little too much singing at Kinnernet, eh? Well, let me know if I can get you anything."

I continued my walk to the tea concession, and had made it about another 5 yards when I ran into French investor, Marc Goldberg.

He looked worried.

"I heard you were really sick, Cathy. Are you okay?"

Again, I smiled, pointed to my throat and started to whisper that I'd lost my voice. Marc immediately offered to go and fetch tea for me.

I declined his gracious offer and made my way the remaining few yards to the table. In the time it took to get there, get the hot water, pick the tea bag and sort out whether I wanted honey or lemon no less than a dozen additional people stopped and inquired as to my health, offered to help with fetching beverages or lozenges and most all of them teased me about the fact that I - of all people - was rendered nearly mute.

This cavalcade of concern continued throughout the morning.

The part of this I found amusing - besides the part about Chatty Cathy being semi-silenced - was the fact that I'd made one call. I'd spoken with one person. And he was largely unconnected to most of those who said something to me. But somehow this one call propagated like a veritable conversational kudzu vine.

While amusing, it's actually not all that surprising. The truth is that this experience is a perfect example of the larger gestaldt that is Israel.

This is a country where it's not unusual for entire towns and cities and even the whole nation to go into mourning when someone dies. Because, more likely than not, you are merely one degree separated from them.

It's not just about its size, which is certainly a factor, it's about something far deeper. Because let's face it, there are places far smaller - cities like San Francisco for example - where people don't even know their next door neighbors.

In Israel, for as much conflict and contradiction as you find, there are equal and in some cases even greater aspects of connectedness with the history and the land, but also between the people. There's a sense of being in something together, almost a personal compact that living here is a team sport.

I do not mean to make light of the fact that there are serious chasms between cultural, religious and ethnic groups in this part of the world, but as with so many things the images and messages projected to the rest of the world lean heavily on all that is sensationalistic.

The truth is that, while there are unquestionable moments of drama and chaos, the day to day experience in Israel is a highly connected one.

Cathy's TravelingGeek Log: Back to Tel Aviv and on to The Marker COM.vention

April 12, 2008 | Comments (0)

Oy.

After three days at Kinnernet I'd be lying if I didn't admit to being just slightly south of knackered.

However, my physical state runs in stark contrast to the utterly energized cycles of my brain right now. You see, I should be well in bed, getting rested for my session at tomorrow's Marker COM.vention.

But at the moment, I'm too excited to sleep. The last several days were - as is always the case with Kinnernet - deeply steeped in passionate discussions about art, society, technology and how all those things come together.

The idea behind Yossi Vardi's annual confab along the shores of the Sea of Galilee (known in Hebrew as "The Kinneret", thus the play on words with Kinnernet) is simple: talk about anything - except for business. The result is an incredibly engaging experience of meeting people - truly meeting them.

Here's one of the superb new friends I met. His name is Danny Litani. A serious player in the Israeli music scene, he was very excited about the idea of Seesmic. So, of course, I showed him. And during the demo a special guest dropped by.

There are myriad videos from Kinnernet that I'll be editing and posting here over the next several days, which will of course be in addition to the ongoing updates from the Innovation Mission on which The Traveling Geeks are embarking.

So stay tuned ... as a friend of mine said this afternoon as we sadly departed Kinnernet 2008, the end is really just the beginning ...

En Route to the Holy Land - A perspective for the Traveling Geeks

April 09, 2008 | Comments (0)

It's a land of contradiction - equal parts historic, economic, social, political and religious.

But no matter who you ask, most people would likely agree that the collective set of countries called the Middle East comprise one of the most fascinating - and conflicted - parts of the world. In particular, one of these countries elicits an immediate and almost visceral reaction from anyone of whom you might ask: "What do you think about Israel?"

Last week someone asked that very question on Seesmic. Actually the question that Kfir asked was: "What do you know about Israel?" Here is the query in his words:

It wasn't long before a wave of people responded. The discussion had intense moments - sharp discord and heated debate followed quickly by an interesting thing ... something that almost resembled detente.

Here are some of the posts from that thread:

Seth chimed in from NYC

Omer spoke up ... from Israel

Tom Sparks chimed in, and the heated discussion began

Ramzi, an Arab man living in the US continued on Tom's thoughts

Of course, I couldn't stay out of it

And Ramzi replied

And of course since Seesmic is a conversation, Kfir came back and chimed in again ... with a bit of surprise and gratitude:

I won't put the whole thread here as it went on for about 50 replies, (oh for the day when I can embed a threaded conversation from Seesmic ... it's coming SOON!) ... But I think the above give you the idea.

It's not as though this discussion uncovered a solution to what is, in essence, a centuries-old conflict. But it did, I believe, reflect a glimmer of what could ... might ... can be possible if there can be found a way through which the various factions can be brought to the table - to talk, to listen, to communicate.

If there's one thing I have learned from my relatively limited exposure to this part of the world, it is that as much as we in the padded comfort of the United States might think we know ... that is precisely how little we actually comprehend.

And so it is into this land of contradiction I now go - writing as I sit at 35,000 feet, whooshing at a comforting 596 mph (with a less than comforting outside temperature of -67 degrees Fahrenheit) heading for a 10-day adventure in the Holy Land.

One thing is certain ... it's going to be an interesting trip.

Marinating since SXSW - blame the barbecue

April 08, 2008 | Comments (0)

In the spirit of disclosure the original "creation" date on this would be more accurate if it mapped to the time I spent in Austin, TX for SXSW.

But as with so many things of this nature, I only just compiled the thoughts and am now writing in the dark cabin of my United flight winging my way across the Atlantic (a quick glance at the in flight map shows we're just passing over Greenland).

Yes, this has been marinating since SXSW - perhaps a credit to the superlative barbecue that one finds in Austin,TX. In any case its catalyst was a session at SXSW focusing on Muslim extremism on-line and how the moderate Muslim community is arising to combat the way in which the fundamentalist faction of their people is destroying the overall essence of their existence.

Okay, so that may be a gratuitous over-simplification, but the truth is that with a topic so ridiculously complex, I don't know that there's any other way I can break it down.

As with most of the sessions at SXSW, the dais was packed. I came in late so missed the introduction for most speakers. The ones I caught were:
Mohammed Hluchan - Senior Middle East Analyst for Verisign, iDefense

Frank Cilluffo - VP for Homeland Security at George Washington University

Mohammed Khan - Head of Hadithuna.com a "blog farm" dedicated to dispelling the myth that there is a monolothic Muslim community focused on a radical purpose

From a critical point of view, I think this session totally missed its potential. I, for one, went with the hope that the panelists would spent a little time talking about their perspective and then that we, in the audience, would have the chance to speak up, ask questions and get some dialogue moving.

This wasn't the case.

Instead the moderator allowed the panelists to each pontificate. Sadly the first two speakers each went on for about 15 minutes - leaving 30 minutes for the last four speakers and for Q&A. This does not discount the value and information provided by those first two speakers. Candidly I think each of these folks would have been well served by having a 30-minute session of their own to talk about their work, and then interact with the crowd.

But I digress from the point I intended, which is to focus on the fact that - as we are all sadly aware - the "bad guys" seem far more capable of motivating, organizing and mobilizing than those who strive to find balance and peace. Again, a drastic oversimplification, but you get the gist.

Why is it that the "good guys" (who, in my world, are defined as anyone who's not overly saturated in dogma and is willing to at least consider a point of view other than their own) seem constitutionally incapable of rising up against those small, but ever-so-vocal-and-powerful minorities?

It's that whole one bad apple spoiling the whole barrel thing. But here's the thing, we're not apples right? Last I checked, human beings aren't inanimate objects. We have moving limbs, opposable thumbs and have even been known on occasion to have cognitive reasoning and rational thought.

So why on earth can those who so deeply abhor all that is extremism not get their shit together and crush the venomous voices who, given a chance, would throw various societies into chaos merely for their own gain?

I do not point only to the Muslim community on this. We are all guilty at one point or another. How many times have you stood idly by while someone behaved in a way that you found reprehensible? How many times have you opted to stay silent rather than get involved because it's just not your business?

One cannot condemn the entire Muslim world any more than one can condemn all Germans for what happened during World War II. To categorize an entire people as evil and wrong based on the actions of a subset of that group, in my opinion, makes those who do the condemning no better than those who they judge.

This trip I am now taking to Israel has many meanings for me. I'll spend the first couple of days utterly immersed in all that is geek and tech. From there, it's suits and business talk at a conference. Beyond that, the intention is to spend several days riding around Israel with a group of Silicon Valley peers experiencing everything we can about innovation in the State of Israel.

Underneath this trip, though, for me lies a question: What will it take to galvanize the silent majority so that they step forward? How can we, as a social collective, support each other so that those who are afraid to speak out can feel safe? What role does the technology industry play in this equation and how might social media take part in healing some of these deep wounds?

Where do we begin?

My inaugural journey to Israel - an initiation of sorts

April 07, 2008 | Comments (0)

My first journey to Israel occurred in 1995 as part of a mission from my family's synagogue in Southern Florida - Boca Raton to be precise.

The tale of that journey is one I've not shared publicly. I've told some friends, but for the most part, I've kept it to myself.

Until now.

I hadn't intended to go on the trip. I was planning an extended adventure in Alaska. It was one of those fly-into-middle-of-Denali-in-bush-plane-hike-raft-through-wilderness-get-picked-up-on-other-side-in-bush-plane things. But after an array of family events, not the least of which was my father's recovery from a rather invasive Cancer surgery, I decided that shifting my trajectory was the right thing to do.

And so in June of 1995 I found myself on an El Al flight to Israel.

For the record, I'm Jewish. I was raised in what would probably be categorized as a fairly traditional, conservative household - synagogue on most weekends, Hebrew school, bat mitzvah - the whole nine yards.

Somewhere around my 14th birthday, though, I pretty much gave up on the whole religion thing. Truth is I rejected G-d and in the process ditched any and all thoughts about organized religion.

But that is a story for another day.

The relevant bit here is what happened to me on this mission in 1995.

Since I wasn't dialed in to the whole religious experience thing I figured I'd focus on my family and absorb as much of the incredibly rich regional culture as possible.

We landed at Ben Gurion at about 11am on a hot morning in late June. The airport still was rather small and so we deplaned via an outdoor stairway onto the tarmack.

Stepping from the chilled tube of airplane the sharply dry air hit like the gust from an open oven door. Things started off with a trip to plant trees. From there it was to the Haas Promenade for an across the valley view of the old city of Jerusalem. It's that view you've seen a million times. Stately walls, speckled with minarets and flags with the distinctive, shimmering gold Dome of the Rock at its center.

We went to our hotel, and after a good night's sleep we were off for a walking tour of the Old City of Jerusalem.

If you've never spent time in any ancient sort of city there is one thing that seems pretty universal about those locations. In ancient times, when a marauding army of one sort or another was coming in, the people who lived there would raze their city to the ground so as to leave nothing for the incoming troops to inherit. They'd have to build from scratch.

And so throughout lands with this deeply seeded history you have layer upon layer upon layer of cities built upon each other leaving stratifications of civilization to uncover.

Back in 1995 they were still in early-ish stages of excavating parts of the old city. One such dig was an amazing discovery of a literal city street - complete with homes and paved roads - that lay about 40-50 feet below the actual streets of the existing city.

From deep below the city we emerged to walk through street upon street of this magnificent history. Images of ancient times juxtaposed with those of modern day.

After several hours we emerged at the top of a stairway that looked over the plaza leading to the Western Wall. For the uninitiated this space is also sometimes called the Wailing Wall ... though I lean towards the former title as it feels ... well ... less maudlin.

It is common practice to write a note with a prayer on it and then insert it between the stones of the wall. At the time, a friend of mine was pregnant with her first child. It was a somewhat late pregnancy and so out of concern for her welfare and that of her baby, I wrote a note wishing for an easy delivery and a healthy child.

I finished writing my note and then started walking the 200 or so yard journey across the plaza to the wall itself. With my mother on my left and my sister to my right things were going simply enough.

And then suddenly it wasn't so simple.

About 20 yards along, I felt as though I'd walked into a wall of some sort. I can't explain it any other way than to say that it was as though a very strong wind - the kind you might experience walking down a city street in Chicago - kicked up and was pushing in my face, almost holding me still.

My mother and sister kept walking and it wasn't until they'd gone another 10 feet or so that they realized I was no longer with them. I'd frozen in place, clutching my note in one hand.

If my mother were able to raise one eyebrow, she'd most certainly have done so, but as it was she walked back up to me with a simple, "Cathy? Something wrong?"

It took me a minute but I managed to squeeze out some sort of response. I can't recall precisely what I said, but it was something along the lines of: "I can’t go there. I can’t go to that wall."

From here I'll truncate the story.

After about 10 minutes or so of taking my time to walk in what must have looked a bit like a toddler taking first steps, I found myself nose to stone with several thousand years of history.

The next cognitive moment I have took place nearly 15 minutes later. My forehead was against the wall. My arms were stretched wide with palms flat against the stone above my head. Tears poured from my eyes and I had this incredible, deep, warm sensation - as though I were wrapped tightly in a soft blanket.

There, in that moment, I found a connection to something far greater than myself.

Was it God?

I have no idea.

But what I do know is that each day after took on a richness and depth beyond anything I'd ever known.

The next time I stepped foot in Israel was in March 2007. Twelve years had passed and the country had changed ... a lot. Unlike my first journey, this next one was wholly business-focused, and while I went to some of the same places, it felt a bit detached and clinical.

That is not the case this time around.

Once again I fly all these miles for what is essentially a business-oriented journey to attend a few conferences and strengthen my professional acumen. But unlike last year, I find myself in a different role with this trip. The Israeli Consulate is graciously hosting a group of us to spend some time - meeting with entrepreneurs, talking with business people and looking into all that which is innovation in Israel.

That may seem like it's all business, but on some level this year I feel a deeper connection to the journey and am quite curious as to what that may bring.