January 15, 2011

When did the Journey Begin?

There is a spiritual teaching that there is no beginning and no end- that the notions of beginning and end, like birth and death, are illusions or, perhaps more gently put, merely convenient designations so we can communicate efficiently with each other.

This comes up as I endeavor to write about the beginning of my journey to Israel, now into the second week. Here is what I wrote when I was on the plane, January 5, EL AL flight Number 2 from JFK to Tel Aviv.

When I look deeply, I see there is no beginning or end to the journey. The journey didn't start on the plane, a few moments ago, when the Haredi (religious) man stopped in the aisle as he headed for his seat next to me. From the aisle, he quietly spoke to the flight attendant. I guessed he was asking for a different seat, not next to me. The journey that led to this began long long ago.

The journey had already begun when I was at JFK, and told a friend on my cell phone that my biggest fear about this trip was that my heart would close, that my heart wouldn't stay open when someone's religious or political views collided with something I value.

The journey had already begun when my father's cousin, waiting for the same flight at JFK,  going to visit her 5 grandchildren who live on the outskirts of Jerusalem, told me how much she had enjoyed my blogs last year and asked if I would blog again ( hi Carol!)

Taking a Seat

The clean shaven man from NY wearing a baseball cap declined the flight attendant's quiet request that he sit in the middle so the religious man could have the aisle seat, and not sit next to me. (I emphasize quiet request, because I felt really touched and relieved that this was all done quietly, without any sense of demand). Another man from a nearby row did move over, with a large back pack that wouldn't fit under the seat, so it wasn't going to work for him. He moved back. The middle seat empty again. The religious man never came back and someone murmured that he found something.

I  felt excited to process this experience, to connect with people around it, so I said to my baseball cap neighbor, I really want to appreciate the level of commitment that man has to the ways of his ancestors. And I want freedom to live my ways too. No response. I guessed he didn't want to engage, so I'm journaling!

I am sitting here with so many emotions. Would it bother me at all if a Buddhist monk asked to sit separately? Maybe, but in a different way. There is a difference in my reaction. What is it? What is it?

I'm not taking any of this personally. I appreciate the quietness of his words to the flight attendant; I never felt a vibe of hostility. I can guess various religious principles that he is upholding, ones that are important to him to keep focused on his path, clear in how he related to the world. It's easier for me to be truly ok with this when I imagine that for him, his decisions are coming from pure love- love of God, of his Rabbi. It's not so easy for me to have a fully open heart about this when I feel fear from telling myself that if too many situations like this arise, EL AL will publically accommodate separate seating by, for example, setting up separate seating on the plane.

That scares and bothers me. Why? It didn't bother me when I wanted an all women's train car in India.

Why this?

When I imagine that El Al or the State of Israel will change their policies and make women sit separately, the fear arises that this trajectory will destroy Israel.

I see how these thoughts arise from fear and from yearning for Israel to be a society and state where everyone's needs and values are freely and equally respected; where the most observant religious Jewish life can flourish- but not at the expense of anyone else's religious or secular life.

For now, I want to cultivate a mind that is so spacious, it can contain these fear thoughts, but the thoughts don't take over. I want a spacious mind that can hold the thoughts, examine them, approach them with curiosity, to learn about myself, maybe something about the world.

This inquiring mind might ask, so, is there room in the world, in Israel, on this plane, for religiously observant men who want separate seating?

Why, yes, yes there is. And how can we create that room, that space, without the cost of other people's freedom. The flight attendant did that by asking people to switch, until she found someone willing. So this is about people living together in community (the plane!)  And finding the level of willingness that people have to accommodate each other's preferences.

Is there a risk in the accommodation? Yes, there is a risk that people will feel resentful just in the asking. There is a risk that accommodation will be the tip of the iceberg.

I'm wondering what my neighbor thinks and feels about this. I wonder if he is Palestinian. I am yearning to talk and connect with him about this. I see that my way of creating a spacious heart around this is to connect with people about it. I want to hear what the women in the next rows are feelings, and the men who were asked to change their seat.

I look deeper- I discover that what I'm concerned about is that people around aren't judging the religious man. I really want acceptance and openness and understanding of his ways. I see my own work here- as I look more deeply into myself- I see what Marshall Rosenberg called" enemy images" lurking- imagining that the secular folks around me are judging the religious man, even reviling the observant. And I see the image of the religious man as being a threat" to peace.

I see within myself everything I fear encountering on this journey.

The journey has begun.

January 6-Arrival Day

My dear friend Hagit picks me up at Tel Aviv airport. We drive to the Old City in Jerusalem where I am staying for the first month. After settling in to my old room again, we go off for a walk and hummus in the Old City.  I can't resist a bead shop and see a lovely necklace to come back to. We pass open shops and stalls displaying  jewelry, lots of scarves and hangings I recognize from India, mounds of spices, dates, nuts, the cooked sweetened Arab dessert cheeses, Armenian pottery shops, men playing backgammon, religious Jews pushing baby strollers.  I am happy to be back here.

January 7. I meet my Israeli family (my niece's grandparents in law) for a wonderful Israeli breakfast.  They share their grief and fears about the growing influence of religion over the country.

  At night I go to the Kotel- the western wall of the Temple- where thousands of Jews from all over the world are praying, singing and dancing.  Religious Jews, secular, young Americans on student trips singing peace songs in Hebrew.  Then I am so excited to go to dinner at Emuna's house in the Old City, deep in the Jewish quarter, one of the centers of religious Jewish life.

On Saturday morning, I first go to the monthly Shabbat service of the Reconstructionists, a pretty left group; then to lunch with a wonderful group of religious women.

On Sunday I go with Nurit to visit Palestinian friends of hers in the Old City. One friend asks if I can give an NVC class to Palestinian women about how to speak to the children. You bet I would!

Going from world to world, feeling at home in all of them, that is the journey for me. Truly feeling at home- open to the gifts and wisdom, the concerns and fears, of everyone. I am feeling so alive in this diversity of Jewish life and Palestinian life.

Everyone who I am telling about the Nonviolent Communication trainings I am here to do is curious, and supportive. Everyone wants peace and understanding.

January 12

Eco ME, Dead Sea

Yoram kindly drives me out to the Dead Sea from Jerusalem, to the site of my first NVC training here. The residents of the Eco ME (Middle East) center have asked for two day training for their community. I arrive the night before and sit at the camp fire with them,
Israelis, Palestinians, Europeans, playing guitar, violin drum, singing under the stars, warming around the fire from the chilly desert night air. This group of 12-15 people, mostly young Israelis, have built a temporary center in this part of the west bank of Israel that's accessible to Israelis and Palestinians without special permits. Over the three days I am there, I see a continual flow of Israelis and Palestinians coming by to talk, eat, play music, to be together. Something is happening here.

In the first day of the workshop, we learn and practice listening for our own needs and for the other person's. We begin by each person connecting with something they did that day for the community that they feel grateful to themselves about doing. Then, impairs, we identify the needs of ourselves that we were meeting by doing this.  Then we think about something someone else did in the community that we are grateful about; and identify the needs that met. In exercises like these, as a whole group and in pairs, we learn to bring our awareness to the needs that everyone is meeting or wanting to meet by doing what they do.

  Then we spend time learning to listen beneath words that may be hard to hear; we listen for the needs the person is trying to meet with their words. We listen for what is important to the person, not their words.

Later, after a delicious lunch cooked over the open fire by two young German supporters,   each person goes out into the desert to journal through a difficult communication, learning to identify thoughts and distinguish them from feelings. Breaking though images we have of one another, translating them into what we are feeling and really wanting. Learning to not blame the other person for our feelings, learning to communicate to ourselves and to the other person what is it that is really important to us.  We also worked on other NVC principles, such as learning to look carefully to make sure that our requests of the other person aren't really demands.

 The day is rich and deep.

On Day 2, we work on creating clarity and structure within the community.  I help them brainstorm about creating a community and a structure for the community that meets everyone's vision and needs. To do this, we set up two circles. First the core group of founders sit in the inner circle, with the other residents sitting around them. The founders talk together and identify their needs- what they are dreaming of for Eco ME, what their concerns are. Then we switch- the non founding residents sit in the middle and do the same. The founders sit in the outer circle, listening for the needs. Throughout the process, I coach and help each group identify their needs, and distinguish them from the particular strategies we will work together later to develop.  On large sheets of paper, I write the needs of each group, putting them together in one working sheet.

It is amazing to see how the needs of the two groups completely mirror each other. For example, the people in each group want inclusion- the founders want more inclusion of the newer members because they need more support and also value the contributions of the other residents; the other residents want inclusion so they can give the gift of support and make the contribution to the vision. Everyone wants greater clarity in communication and information flow.

I am so grateful to NVC trainer Miki Kashtan, whose training I attended in November, where we modeled this system of creating one list of needs for all the members of the community, creating an energy and consciousness of willingness to address everyone's needs, of their willingness to create systems and communities that are committed to valuing and even meeting everyone's needs. This is what is happening at Eco ME.

EcoME also is the site where Hagit and I will offer our first open NVC retreat together. There are already more than 50 people coming, close to half Israeli and half Palestinian. People from outside have volunteered to come and provide Arabic translation. Others will come and cook and host us. It has grown so big that we have brought in a third trainer. Hillia is an amazing Israeli woman who will facilitate the groups of young people who are coming to the retreart-include a rather large group from the West Bank. She has been bringing NVC into schools in Palestinian and Jewish Jerusalem. I am so happy for all of the support and participation.