9:45 a.m.

Note: Originally when we ordered the tickets, we were supposed to fly back to Los Angeles after the Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashanah. However, after my last conversation by the Western Wall, I felt very strongly that this time we should not celebrate the Jewish New Year in Israel.

I don’t know the significance of that yet, but it felt to me as if we were pushed away. Our time now was over. I strongly felt that we had to go back right away. We called the airline and changed our tickets.

As we were getting ready to go to the airport, my son spoke to me and said the following (below is an excerpt):

Hi, my dearest mom, this is your star (celestial) son. Finally your last day in Israel has come—the land of our ancestors, our people, and the land given to us to live in peace and love.

But the Earth as a whole is in turmoil, and that is why we, celestial children, are coming to you—our parents—to stop the suffering of the parents and everything else.

I know that there are many issues you are still confused about and you are still not seeing clearly. That is very understandable. There are too many lies and toxins at this time.

It is similar to a jeep that is driving through the badlands on crooked unpaved roads through rain and snow, smattered with mud. It becomes dirty and unrecognizable. This is the time to wash the car. When the car gets washed, everybody will see the color again and know the truth again. Everyone will know what and why.

You, Mom, must also go through the car wash. The only thing that you need right now is to remember who you are and continuously walk in the direction your soul directs.

• Do not pressure yourself.
• Don’t say something to yourself that doesn’t exist.
• Don’t convince yourself to do something you don’t want to do.
• Do only what you feel is right for you.

Do not fake anything. Do not create something that is not there. Wait for your inner voice to tell you what to do next. Do not act on your brain.

You must know and remember that I am next to you, always and everywhere. Talk to me. Consult with me. Do not fear. You are not alone.

The more you spend time by yourself in the silence, the more we will be able to do something together. I am going to be your guide. I am going to be that strength guiding you in the right direction.

I need your attention, understanding, work ethic, and focus. I need you to listen and hear me just as you do now. Take away your desires and the feeling that you are a failure because of my departure.

You are a mother and my mother, and that is already a big achievement.

Therefore, just be my mother. That is all that is asked of you now. I know that I am not an earthly son anymore; however, I am now your celestial son.

It is not very easy to be a celestial son to you because you were not given an example of how to be a mother of a celestial child. No one taught you how to take care of a celestial child. Consequently, you must learn by yourself.

Every celestial child still has work to do on earth. Therefore, they are coming back to earth to reach out and communicate with their parents and become their guides. The parents must learn how to receive a project, and the celestial children are responsible for assisting their parents with the project.

But what happens if parents cannot hear their child? If parents cannot establish the connection and communication, then the earthly illusion of loss remains. After that, the struggles, suffering, and sorrow take place.

I know that you are packing your bags right now, and I really need you to go back with the following thoughts:

• We are traveling together.
• You have a job to do with me.
• You have a celestial son.
• You do not have sorrow. You have work and responsibilities.

I need your help. I need your understanding. I need your expertise. I need your love. I need you. I need my mother.

Mom, I need you now more than I ever needed you. I love you really much.

I’m always around you. Please be right next to me too.
—Your celestial son.

We traveled to Tzfat by taxi. Very nice drive. The taxi driver happened to be on his way home to Tzfat. So he happily agreed to charge at the cost of the bus fare.

I felt a strong need to go back to that bench at the small military cemetery that was located right above the old cemetery. This time I was bringing a rock from Lake Kinneret to put on that 18-year-old soldier’s grave.

We went straight to that cemetery. After placing the rock on the grave, I once again sat on the bench. Sitting on the edge of the cliff with wind in my face and breathtaking beauty all around me brought peace into my soul. I was sitting in total silence.

The sun was preparing to set. How long was I sitting? When suddenly I heard a voice that I already knew. I was asked again to take notes. So I did. Below is a recorded conversation. It took almost two hours. Right into the sunset.

4:30 p.m.

From the Spirits of Tzfat:

Welcome. Welcome back. Energize your inner Kinneret with our spirit, love, and compassion. Tears of many have fallen on this land. The cries of many are heard in the sky. We the spirits of Tzfat are here. We the spirits of Tzfat are here ready to talk, wish, bless, and complete. Hear us. Hear us.

Hear our message from Tzfat,
We told you once
Eternal life—eternal light

We asked you once
Come back to us
Now we are telling you
To go.

Go in peace
Go in harmony.
Go and live.

Take what is given
Leave what is not yours
Drop what is not yours.

 

Fill your life with warmth

Fill your life with compassion
Stay inside your community
Stay inside their hearts

Your son is fine you should not worry
He’s here with G-d.
Your son is fine,

And you . . .

You come and sit
And you wait to hear us
And yet you know everything you need to know

And with that which
You know
Where to sit
Who to listen
Where to take

And that what you
Need to embrace
That which “you know.”
And “true”
That G-d has a plan for you.

And “you know”
You know what is poison
You know what is not
And that is that
“You know”

 

Therefore you shall
Trust the truth of
Unfolding path and
Wait and see and
Know where to go.

And now the time has come to end
And you shall go
With light in your heart
With love in your life
With soul that knows.

We bless you from here
We wish you the best

Remember this day
Remember us
The Spirit of Tzfat [Here the spirits became united]

 

Eternal life—eternal light.
Till we meet again
Shalom and goodbye
G-d bless.

 

That was it. And as the sun was setting lower and lower, my husband and I said our goodbyes. I knew the time of us returning back is unknown and that for this trip this was our last time there.

We returned to the bus station, and we headed to Jerusalem for one last time. I knew that we had to go back to the Western Wall.

Note: The Spirit of Tzfat is a united singular voice that delivered a singular massage, as if there was one speaker speaking on behalf of the group. That is the voice that invited me back.

The second time around, there were several voices that sent me different messages. I felt like I was speaking to the group. Every voice had something important to tell me.

The best example is to imagine a council of sages; every sage has something wise to say. After each of the voices gave their individual messages, they became unified again and delivered the unified message of “Eternal life, eternal light.”

There were at least 10 voices. That is when they told me to remember them as the Spirit of Tzfat and as a community of sages.

Picture credited to the Israeli Ministry of Tourism (www.goisrael.com)

Get Me on the Bus!

There is a Russian saying that goes something like this: “Those who got burned by a hot milk will spend their lives blowing air on the water.” I was about to find out how true that can be.

On our way from the Dead Sea to Eilat, I did not see anything as I was sitting on the floor all the way. The only thing I remember was the sun on my face and the feeling as if I was melting as an ice cream on a cone. It was a very memorable drive till today, let me just say that. 

Therefore, I was determined on our way back to avoid the sun as much as possible. I was sincerely fixed on this idea, of not having the sun staring at me for the next five to six hours.

The driving distance between Eilat and Tel Aviv is about 225 miles or 360 km. Part of the driving is through the Negev Desert. It is a narrow and winding road that goes uphill with a beautiful landscape around. The Negev Desert stretches from the southern tip of Israel (Eilat) and then covers the entire southern half of the country.

The desert comes with a rich biblical history and many stories to tell. But not here and not right now. It still has a large portion of land that is nothing but a desolate desert. However, the future holds many new developments there. At least that’s what I heard.

Taking all that into consideration, I told my husband about 100 times that he must be sure that the sun is not on my side. That is why after cutting our stay in Eilat short, we checked out the next morning very early and headed to the bus station. We were ready to get on the first bus to Tel Aviv. We were first in line too. Terrific, is it not?

We waited for about ten minutes before the freshly cleaned bus stopped in front of us. Having learned about the positions of the sun, I was very careful about which side to sit on.

Since my husband and I came really early, we were first to enter the bus, and I thought that our luck had finally changed. We were able to sit on comfortable seats and on the right side of the bus. That alone felt so good! We were ready to roll. Tel Aviv, here we come.

Avoiding Bad Experience: Does It Work?

The drive from Eilat to Tel Aviv should be about five to six hours. However, from the first moment the bus started to move, I felt really weird. Something was missing. Something felt off.

It took me about 15–20 minutes to realize that there was no air coming into the bus. Since I was sitting very close to the driver, I asked him if the air conditioner was off.

He looked at me and said that the air conditioner was not off. It was just not working. What?

“Can you make it work?” I asked. 

“No,” he calmly replied, “it’s broken.”

“Are you saying that we have to drive for five to six hours without air? Totally has to be over 100F again.”

“Yep,” he said. “No air.” The bus kept going farther and farther from the bus station.

I sat silently for a moment thinking what to do next. Then I broke the news and voiced my concern to everyone on the bus by saying that we will have no air conditioner since it’s totally broken.

“How can we survive a five-hour bus trip under more than 100 degrees without an air-conditioning?” I asked.

Everyone started to talk at the same time. Some felt that we should continue, and some wanted to go back and change the bus. Then opinions became separated between locals and tourists. The tourists wanted to go back and change the bus. The locals wanted to continue.

I don’t know what came over me, as what took place next was totally out of the ordinary for me.

Maybe it was the memory of me sitting on the ground under the sun waiting for the bus or sitting on the floor of the bus with the sun on my face. Or something outside of me was possessing me. Who knows? Whatever it was, it was not me. Not “regular,” “normal” me anyway.

I leaped from my seat to the middle of the aisle and loudly but calmly said something like this:

“No, people. We are not going to drive without air-conditioning.”

Now I was in the center of the bus with everyone staring at me! And I felt right at home. Very comfortable and very calm. I must be out of my mind.

(I was in charge of the situation, and I knew it too. Who put me in charge? Who put me in charge of the Israeli bus? Oy vey . . .)

Then I turned around, looked firmly at the driver, and said, “Turn the bus around and get us a good bus.”

The driver looked back at me and tried to argue. “I am on a schedule,” he said.

(Oh well. I already knew very well how schedules could be changed. Hello! The bus at the Dead Sea. Where was their schedule? Right?)

“Did you know that the air-conditioning was broken when you picked up the bus and then us?” I asked him.

“Yes,” he answered.

“The moment you failed to tell us about the broken air-conditioning, and the moment you drove this bus—you missed your chances to follow a schedule. Turn around and do what you should do: to take care of the people you are responsible for.”

He stopped arguing and turned the bus around going back to Eilat. I went back to my seat. Everyone was quiet. No one challenged me. Oh boy!

Shortly, we were back in Eilat. On the bus station. We unloaded all our stuff and waited for another bus to arrive. In 30 minutes or so, our driver showed up with a different bus.

As we were taking our seats, I told the driver that I am thankful that he is taking care of the people who are under his care. And that he was able to get another bus for us that fast.

He just softly smiled back. Everyone went back to their seats, and we started our journey again.

Not Again!

We slowly started to drive from Eilat to Tel Aviv. For the most of part, we were driving uphill. I was glued to the window. I was absolutely captivated by the scenery and lost in my thoughts.

For a change, I was feeling comfortable, with the cool air coming out and the sun being far away from my face. What else can you ask for?

At some point between Dimona and Be’er Sheva, the road became very steep, so narrow and so winding. As we were making a wide sharp turn, the bus suddenly made a weird noise, stopped, and started to roll back.

The driver was able to break the bus movement as we were just kept rolling backward. We ended up stopping at the edge of the turn of the road.

What it meant is that other cars behind us would not be able see us until they reached the top of the road. It was a very dangerous position to be in. Yet here we were. The driver left the bus and started to look at something inside the guts of the bus. I watched the expressions on his face, and it did not look good.

Five to ten minutes later, he said, “We cannot proceed. The motor died, and we ran out of water.”

We were stuck in the middle of the desert. It was getting really hot. People started to ask him about what we were going to do. And about our options.

He said he was going to contact the central bus station and have a new bus sent over. For now we have to wait.

We asked him, “How long do you think we would wait?”

“I don’t know. It depended on when another bus will become available,” he answered. 

I could not help but wonder what would have happened if I had not intervened and we did not change the bus. I wondered if I was responsible for this mess. Was I? Should I feel guilty? How would that help?

Then I started to wonder why this happened. Is this a part of what I have to learn? So G-d has a plan for me after all. What was his plan? Why am I here? What is the plan?

Why am I here? In the middle of nowhere . . . desert? Melting again!

I tried to see the guiding hand and the sequence of events that took place over the whole saga of our trip to the Red Sea. It only made me nervous.

People started to leave the bus and were spreading around trying to find shades to shield themselves from the heat of the sun. Some of the locals went to the middle of the road and tried to catch a ride. Some of them did. Few cars stopped and picked up few.

A police car stopped. Talked with the driver and then for about 30 minutes was guarding us. Then he left too. One of the passengers, with a long blonde hair that was collected on the side of his head, who looked like a hippie, pulled his guitar and started to play.

I too could not sit any longer on the bus. It was getting really hot. The air from outside was not coming any longer. The wind must have changed its direction.

Without saying anything to my husband, I left the bus and crossed the road to the other side. I wanted to be away from everyone. I wanted to be alone.

 

My Desert of Death

After crossing the road, I ended up in the middle of a breathtaking view. I was literally shocked by what I saw. It happened to be that the bus broke down and was stopped at a place that had a panoramic view of the desert. And what a view that was! Words pale in comparison to the majestic and grand view of the desert.

I felt as if I was in a theater balcony looking in the stage from the top and waiting for a performance. And I was not left disappointed. Right there, the most profound experience was about to unfold and bring up changes that are still in effect today.

One of the things that shook me to the bones right away was the fact that my vision of the Desert of Death and this Negev Desert looked exactly the same. It had the same colors of red and brown. It had the same rocks. The same mystery. They were the same. How can that be?

Needless to say, I was absolutely hypnotized. My two realities collided. My vision that hunted me every day became a reality in front of my eyes.

Now I knew for sure that I was not “imagining” or “hallucinating.” Now I knew that what I saw indeed existed.

Now I knew without any doubt that what were sent to me in my visions or dreams or by any other means were indeed messages, glimpses, and guidelines that were true and real no matter how translucent, esoteric, they were.

Yes, they were coming from and belonged to another realm, another reality, another world. But here we had an imprint of that too. How extraordinary it is to be a witness of that.

However, that was not it. Something else took place. What I experienced next was similar to standing next to a speaker blasting loud music at some party or rock concert.

Do you know what I am talking about? You know when the speakers are so large and powerful and the music is so loud that if you are staying close to them you can feel the vibration of the sound within your body? That’s exactly how I felt.

My entire body could feel the vibrations. I felt a sound coming not only into my mind or ears, but also through my entire body. I did not know exactly where the music was coming other than it came from the bottom of the desert and I was right in the middle of it.

Then within that vibration of music, I heard a voice saying the following: “Everything is a lie. Everything is a lie. Everything that you were told was a lie.”

The vibration in my body was increasing and became so strong and severe that I felt as if something was breaking down inside my body and falling down piece by piece. It felt to me as if I had been cast inside a stone or a crust or a mold, and now I was slowly being freed by the power of that vibration.

Something inside of me died. Crushed. Released me. Left me. Freed me.

Out of the Prison

Imagine yourself throughout your life being cast into a shell that is made of ideological ideas, political views, someone else’s value system, etc. Everything that is a part of the brainwashing system and indoctrination machine in the society that you are born into.

And depends on where you live and was raised as it becomes a part of your own belief system whether you like it or not, aware of it or not. In the end, we are all sponges, and we are the products of our culture, and its message crawls within that web of political structure.

We even not notice it. We are not aware of it. At least not all of it. That web that is made of thoughts and beliefs and values swallows us as a monster. We become a part of its darkness and a part of its functioning system. Its food.

We become imprisoned by it. Cast into the web and its sticky cocoon. That is invisible to our eyes. Not always. Not entirely.

And we become a part of it, and we start to depend on it. It becomes our defense system, our way of dealing with the world. Our shades through which we now hear and see and process and act in life. 

The vibration that I was feeling was chipping away my shell, crushing down that invisible web until it all fell down. Then the intensity started to slow down . . .  leaving me feeling naked, unprotected, and with a vivid realization that everything that I was told was a lie. 

I started to question what I was being freed from. Every repetition of “everything is a lie” became a chisel. Finishing its work and cleaning whatever else was left out of that crust, that shell, those walls of prison.

It was playing in my mind nonstop. I looked at the desert again. But it turned into an amphitheater.

My life and the history of humanity were flashed before my eyes. It was like watching a 3-D movie. The energy field was so strong that after the music subsided and the voice turned off, I still felt the vibration.

Still under the impression of what just took place and feeling as if I was hit by an electricity, I ran to the bus like a loose cannon and grabbed my husband’s shoulder, and while shaking him, I said, “We were lied to! We were lied to! Everything is a lie!”

“Who lied to us? What is a lie?” he asked, looking at me with concern in his eyes.

“Everyone. Everything,” I said . . . Everyone!

Truth about Truth 

I think that my husband got very concerned with what was happening with me. In the 30 years that he knew me, he never saw me in such state as he saw me while I was shaking his shoulder.

I do not think that I saw myself in that stage. I felt elated. I felt free. I felt not knowing. I felt awakened. I could see. I felt betrayed. Manipulated. Sold. Shaken to my core. Determined. Energized. Devastated. All of the above and much more.

The boost of one energy wave followed by another. One feeling after another was bypassing and changing my whole system.

The “Everything is a lie” energy vibrated through me. Breaking, deleting, voting out everything that I was told and knew before.

EVERYTHING WAS A LIE. I WAS CAST INSIDE THE LIE.

After telling my husband what in my eyes was the huge news, I felt that I still had unanswered questions. So once again I crossed the road. I returned to the same spot. I faced the desert one more time and asked two questions:

1. “How would I know for sure that what I was told before is a lie?”  

2 . “How would I know what is truth?”

 “You will know,” the voice from the desert answered to me. “You will know!”

Within two hours, another bus came, and we loaded our stuff onto it once again. Finally we were clear to go. The rest of the drive was fine, and we completed our journey to Tel Aviv about three hours late than scheduled.

However, after that stop in the middle of the Negev Desert, I was never the same. It changed my entire approach to listening and to life in general.

What I witnessed at that time and the experience that I had totally destroyed the entire belief system I had before. Fifty years of it. Not a small chunk of time.

However, make no mistake, I did examine and changed many things in my life before as well. Or I still would be living in Russia. But this time it was very different. It was on the deep soul level. 

Much more intense. It was taking place on the level of depth that I never knew what existed. Different layer of my soul.

I had to start all over again and not only with facing the changes in our family, but the inner working of my being. Now my entire life and everything that I knew was under a huge magnified glass and wide open for investigation. 

From that point forward, I knew I could not look or go back. Where to?

I knew that I have to start to question everything that I ever knew. And that is how and that is when I started a quest for the truth. For another layer of truth.

Learning to trust the truth that will be shown to me in the process was not an easy task as well. A few years later, I was told numerous times in different situations: “We wish you did not know the truth.” Talking about whatever the situation was at the time.

When I asked why, the answer always remained the same: “It would be less painful for you and easier.” 

 Meeting Truth

A few years later, in 2010, someone brought me a spiritual book for my birthday. This book was a collection of different stories from people in different spiritual communities in the United States. They all spoke about one particular spiritual leader. 

I will not mention any names to keep the privacy of those people. When that individual gave me that book, a thought crossed my mind: “How would I know that the stories in this book are true? How do I know I can trust what is written there?”

When the individual left, I was still conflicted about reading the book because it was all about creating an image of perfection. Glorifying image! I don’t believe in perfection, nor do I support glorification. Be that for political reasons or religious or any other reasons.

History proved so many times that nothing good can or will come out of this. As Truth is the end will come out, the false colors of glorifying portrait will be dissolved in the tears of those who were hurt by make-believe illusions, manipulations, and lies.

So in that book that I was holding in my hands, all stories were about one man, and that man was now made up to be a walking G-d or someone along those lines.

It reminded me of books that we used to read in the former USSR about our “beloved” leaders. Since we were children, we were reading about “Grandpa” Lenin and everyone who was in power at that time. Of course they all were portrayed as ideal human beings and put on the position of “Gods.”

To say something else, except how perfect and wise and wonderful they were, was a forbidden deed that was subject to a punishment. In many countries, this situation is still the same.

But what if, what if those people told “true” stories? After all, it is written in the United States, in a free country. No one is pressing them to lie. Their life is not in danger. They have a free will to not participate in creating false stories.

Also, I knew about this man too while he was alive. I respected him. I felt that in his life, he did plenty of good, and any additional glamour was not necessary. It could only harm his true image.

So I opened the book somewhere in the middle and started to read one of the stories. By the end of the story, I knew for sure that the story was a lie. How did I know?

By “accident,” I opened the book on the page that covered what happened in a community, which I was a part of at the time. I was a part of that story. I was a witness to that story. I knew everyone in that story. That story was a part of my life and people I knew.

Unfortunately, what happened in reality was manipulated and altered in the book. The facts were twisted and not correctly presented. The story underwent such a heavy makeup and glorification operations that you could not recognize its true face anymore. What can I say . . . The propaganda machine in its full glory! How sad!

There was some grain of truth to it. Here and there. But overall, it was a lie.

In the moment of realizing that the story told was a lie, I heard the same message that I heard standing in the middle of Negev Desert: “You will know.”

Indeed I now knew.

My Special Message to Parents of Celestial Children 

That is why I strongly believe that our children are coming to speak with us because they do not have an agenda to manipulate us toward any beliefs. And they do want to help us with our journey in the Desert of Death.

That’s why I can only trust what my son is saying to me because I know that what he says is based on pure love.

There is nothing more authentic than the love of a child. That is why when writing a book or these entries, it does not concern me if someone believes or doesn’t believe me.

My focus is help to connect parents with their children so they themselves can hear the truth based on pure love. In the face of pure love, lies die.

Right there in the middle of the desert underneath the burning sun, I experienced the manifestation of true love. I was told the truth that broke every single illusion, lie, and deception that was projected on me throughout my life from different cultures and different belief systems.

That is why I can say with 100% confidence that parents whose children have been taken to the Realm of Truth are individuals who have been chosen to learn the truth. And then share it with others.

Each of us will be given our own piece of truth. Together we can create a magnificent mosaic of universal and divine truth. 

The shift of our children is the last resort for us to learn the truth. If we do not seek the truth in the Desert of Death, there is a high chance we will not see it anywhere else.

The experience of walking through the Desert of Death has the potential for everyone of becoming a chisel that will chip out everything that is no longer serving us. This process is taking its place under the care of Divine Providence.

Are you ready to learn the truth?

Note: Picture credited to the Israeli Ministry of Tourism (www.goisrael.com)

Time to Go 

During the last week of our stay at the Dead Sea, my husband’s relatives thought that we must go and see Eilat. They were so in love with that place that they deeply felt that we must see it too.

Eilat is the city located near the Red Sea and is known for tourism, relaxation, and entertainment. It is the southernmost city in the country, and it sits on the tip of the Gulf of Aqaba.

There are plenty of hotels, upscale restaurants, and many other places to visit, such as its many beaches, glorious mountains, and trails and surely, the one and only—the gorgeous Red Sea. 

Personally, I did not want to go there. I don’t know why. I just had a strong feeling to not go there.

However, under the pressure of family members and their enthusiasm, I finally gave in. (Note to myself and to others: Do not do it again! Follow your intuition only.)

They made reservations for us for three nights. I agreed to go. I said to myself, “I should be flexible. Maybe they know what they are talking about and I should listen to their suggestion.”

So here I am, packing up for the trip to the Red Sea. In our last night at the hotel, we had dinner as usual. During the night, I woke up with a high fever and vicious vomiting. 

I got so sick overnight that we could not check out of the hotel on time. I was so ill that hotel personnel had to call a doctor and send him to the room. The doctor said that I had some stomach virus, or in other words, I had food poisoning.

However, according to the doctor, the diagnosis of food poisoning could not be “on the record,” so to speak, as it will require them to close the kitchen for several days for investigation. Therefore, it was left as “stomach virus.”

I did not care one way or another. I still was sick as a dog. So stomach virus it is! What can I do?

The hotel management was very kind and let us stay until 3:00 p.m.  In reality, it would be great if we could stay at least one more day and let me heal, to get better.

But we could not stay in the hotel any longer because we did not have any more reservations. And there were no more cancellations that day.

Therefore, the only thing we could do is to travel to the Red Sea. Though I still had a fever, I knew it was time to go. I knew that we have to go.

The End of Me

The bus station was across the hotel and had a bus that could take us directly to Eilat. We went and waited for the 3:30 p.m. bus. We had to wait only a short time, not more than 10 to 15 minutes.

The time came and passed, and the bus still did not show up. No bus. It was more than 100+ degrees Fahrenheit. It was the hottest month of the year. We were in the desert. In the middle of the day. It was brutally hot.

Also, after vomiting all night and not able to keep anything in my stomach, I was feeling dehydrated now, weak, tired, and was totally out of balance.

I started to feel ill again. I could not stand any longer. I could not keep waiting under the open sun, during a heat wave, with a fever. There was no shade and no place to sit, and we had no idea when the bus was coming. 

However, people at the bus station told us that there should be one more bus to Eilat. The last bus of the day. But now the schedule was out, as that last bus missed its time too.

No one knew when the bus will be coming, if at all. Therefore, we could not go back to the hotel and wait there. No one could go anywhere. The sun became our enemy. The heat became our prison.

Everyone tried to hide from the sun the best way they could. The afternoon sun was so strong that I felt as if my feet were melting beneath me. That was it.

I felt interrogated by the sun. It was right in my face. Nowhere to hide. My feet suddenly became so weak that I just slowly went down till I reached the ground.

Here I was. On the ground. In my white jeans. On the dirty ground covered in who knows what. It was a bus stop after all. I did not care. I had no energy to care. I was numb. Not feeling anything. 

And as I sat on the ground surrounded by cigarette butts and covered in dust and dirt, I thought the following: “What would my children think of me if they saw me sitting like this? What would they say?”

Then I asked, “G-d, is this what you want from me? Is this it? What do you want with me?” I was wondering the purpose of all that was taking place. Did G-d really want to see me covered in dirt on the ground? Sick and weak and numb? Is this it? Did he want to break me? Why? Where is the healing in that?

I felt that I had reached my limits and have reached the end of “me.” My thoughts stopped coming too. I could not think anymore. It is what it is. That was it!

During the course of my entire life, I had never reached the end of “me” no matter the obstacle. And now it felt like the end of the world. Since my son shifted, how many times have I felt this way? Is it my new way of being in this world? Regularly being pushed to my limits? Why?

It felt like there was no energy left in me to even move a single finger. Even if I wanted to do something or say something, I had nothing in me to do it.

I had an absolutely profound experience of my limitations. I thought that I had no limitations. I always was thinking that I can do anything. I was not aware of my limitations. Not this way. Not that vividly. Not that clearly.

There at the Dead Sea, sitting on the ground of the bus station, with a fever, covered in dust and dirt just like a homeless woman, I finally faced the end of “me.” For the first time in my life, my limitations were right in front of me. I could touch them. I could feel them. And that I had to face.

My New Place in the World

The bus finally showed up, and I was in its way. I was still sitting on the ground, exactly where the bus usually makes its stop. But I could not pull myself up. I could not move.

I was looking right at the bus as it was moving right at me. Strangely, I did not care whether it would or would not run over me.

I had no feelings. Inside of me was an empty space. I never was so empty and indifferent before. The bus kept getting closer. I kept sitting. My husband kept staying next to me without moving too. We were frozen. Together.

So the bus had to stop before reaching its regular spot of full stop. I don’t know if it was the fever or the heat, or the night of vomiting, or something else that contributed to the feeling of not caring if the bus left without me.

I just didn’t care. I knew that I could end up spending all night, right there on the ground if we missed this bus. We had no place to go. Yet I kept sitting on the ground.

People started exiting the bus, and since I was right there, the people walked over me. Few purses hit my shoulder. I did not respond or even move.

Since the previous bus did not show up, there were a lot of people waiting in line for this last bus. I was not up to fighting for a place on this last bus.

I silently watched as they all, one by one, tried to enter the bus. The bus was packed like a can of fish. Even if I could and wanted, I could not get on the bus because now people were even packed on the stairs as well.

There was no room at all. None. The doors of the bus could not be closed. The last time I saw this picture was 25 years ago, back in the former USSR. It felt very familiar. The “beauty” of public transportation.

The bus driver suddenly got up and asked if I was coming. I replied back with “It’s packed. There is no place for us.”

The bus driver walked out of the bus, stored our luggage, and told us to come and sit by him. He made a way for my husband and me by moving everyone around. People listened to him. No one argued. No one said a word against it.

Then he sat on his seat, looked at me, and said, “Sit.” I asked, “Where?” He replied, “The floor.” Once again I was back on the ground, on the floor. People were staying on the stairs and everywhere else. Pushed against one another. No one complained.

On the floor, in my space, I had more space next to me than anyone else. My husband was also fine right next to me. We had our own territory. Our own world. Protected by the rails that go around the driver’s seat. It was much cooler there too.

The door of the bus slowly closed, and our journey to the Red Sea started. The entire way, I sat on the floor with the sun shining directly on my face. It was still very hot. I could not find a position to hide from the sun. My fever was up too.

Yet I could not help but wonder why the driver showed too much care for me and my husband. Without him and my husband pulling me from the ground, I would not be able to stand up and make it to the bus. Why did he even pay attention to me?

Why was I pulled from the ground? And “why” am I on the floor, what am I, a dog? Long drive, many thoughts. None of them were useful and/or made any difference. I closed my eyes and shifted away. The bus was stopping on its regular stops.

People were coming in and out. Still very packed. Still no one complained. Not once. Not about a shifted schedule, not about lack of space. Everyone was more or less polite. No conflicts! None!

It was about a four-hour drive. By late evening, we reached Eilat.

Red Sea

After some struggling, we were able to find a taxi to take us to our hotel. I went straight to bed. The next day when I woke up, I felt much better. I just wanted to be in the water. I needed to be in the water. So we decided to go to the Red Sea for a swim.

We asked for directions and suggestions about different beaches nearby, got a taxi, and went to the Red Sea. However, inside I still was feeling awkward. Something was off. I did not know why I was there, and I did not feel right about it.

Even seeing the sea and swimming did not sit right with me. Usually swimming always made me feel better, but not this time around.

Music was blasting at full sound everywhere. People were having a great time. There were lots of young people. Everyone looked happy, enjoying their time, their vacation. Lots and lots of children.

But it was not my vacation. It was not my time. I had no children next to me. And the worst thing was to see that the world continues its life as if nothing happened.

The water was beautiful. The sky was blue. The people were laughing. Yet my world did not exist anymore, and I knew that I did not belong to this “happiness.” It was too much “life” for me.

Everything inside of me was weeping. Screaming from pain. And the only thing I wanted is to hide. I did not want to be a part of this “celebration of life.” I was mourning in the desert of death. That is where my journey was. That is where I belonged. 

The day was very hot. Somewhere around 105 to 107 degrees Fahrenheit. My husband decided to take a swim. The bottom of the Red Sea was rocky, and when my husband took a step into the sea, he ended up stepping on a stonefish.

This fish looks like a rock, and when you step on them, they rupture your skin and release a poison. Since it’s poisonous, you have to place your leg in the hot sand to draw the poison out, which we didn’t know at the time.

My husband was in excruciating pain and hardly made it to the beach. We could see that his big toe got swollen very fast. We had no idea what to do, and it was getting scary as the pain was increasing, and his toe was getting swollen more and more.

I left my husband on the sand and started to walk around looking for help. There was no one whom I could ask. I wanted to call for help, but our cell phone had no service. No bars on the phone. What? Were we on the moon or something? No service!

Finally I saw a restaurant. When I entered, I noticed a few people behind the counter. I told them what happened. They were able to tell me what to do, and they also told me that we had to be advised in the hotel what beaches are in danger of having stonefish and which one are not.

However, the hotel did not inform us of this creature and its existence. So my husband had to find it out on his own. I, on the other hand, was not hurt during my swim. Maybe it was my day off from trouble.

After keeping his foot in the hot sand for about an hour, we decided to go back to the hotel. The pain in his toe eased a bit.

It was close to lunchtime. There were no taxis around. The phone was not working, and I could not call. My husband could barely walk or stand.

So I left him sitting under the shades of some trees and went to the open road trying to catch a taxi. There were no cars. Empty road! Just the waves of the heat rising and moving above melting asphalt. Desert!

After about two hours or so in the open sun, I finally waved down a taxi. When we made it to the hotel, it was late in the day. We were tired, to say the least.

The air conditioner in the room was not working properly, and the smog from the cigarettes from other rooms was entering our room. We literally could see the smog getting out of the vent.

It smells as if we were in a bar. I could not breathe. I was choking. We could not use the air conditioner.

After we complained, the hotel’s manager visited our room and then tried to fix the issue. It did not work. Nothing was going right. Nothing was working.

I opened the windows. The blow of the hot wind entered the room. It brought within the loud conversations by the pool, the smell of cigarettes, the laughter, and the screaming music too. Everything from which I tried to hide and escape was following me into my room, into my space. I stood by the window. My tears could not stop running.

After the chain of events and the incident with my husband, it got very clear that we were not meant to be there. Just as I felt it anyway. We did not even unpack.

We decided to interrupt our stay and to leave for Tel Aviv early the next morning. We wanted to take the first bus out.