Thoughts for Sale

If the thoughts I think happen in *$ (Starbucks...clever, eh?) and the only way I can sit here is through monetary exchange, which provides me with tea, then following this logic, the quantitative value of today's thoughts=X. Are today's thoughts valuable at X and to whom? To one person, these thoughts can be exchanged for whatever the person values to the same degree. I just traded $3.75 for a cup of hot tea, which is now lukewarm. I enjoyed the creamy froth at the surface of the cup and found myself calculating how much happiness that brought to me. After I finished the froth, I was left with a tall cup of Starbucks Chai Tea and as I look at the cup, all I am left with is the memory- a perception based on experience (some form of empiricism), which is no longer. That happiness lasted a very short period of time and I wonder what thoughts were released during those moments of happiness, which brought me to what I am thinking and subsequently writing about now. By suppressing the feelings and hindering the ideas, which would have been to follow, if I didn't have work to do, I will never know what X could have valued. If I were true to my inquiries, I would not be able to tell people my true thoughts without an equal exchange. Why, you ask? The foundation of the universe was created and sustained through balance and opposites. If it isn't ultimately true, rationalists do a darn convincing job proving the false truths. I really think that I should get some work done and put a dent in my reading. I am only getting one tea today, only one cup of caffeine to keep my mind awake so X=$3.75. If you are reading this, you are reading this for free, and I hope you realize the mentally manipulative effect I made on you for not paying me X.

Side note: This was written in my journal at Starbucks. I used watercolor pencils to color in the illustration I made on the bottom of the page and used the last drip of my chai to blend the color. The perfect blend.

My mind travels in and out of focus.

My mind travels in and out of focus. Pain and pleasure are opposites so both are crucial for harmony and balance. What are emotions? Can they be categorized if they are impulses, different to each person? Maybe, as Plato observes, pleasure is a distraction from the soul. "And indeed the soul reasons best when none of these senses troubles it, neither hearing nor sight, nor pain nor pleasure, but when it is most by itself, taking leave of the body and as far as possible having no contact or association with it in its search for reality." That can't be right because it is through my own senses, that I have ever experienced the closest alignment of body to soul. Heightened senses are what make me more aware of the world, so as I see it, that is how I get closer to my soul, whatever that may be. Senses aren't a distraction, they are enablers. When one sense is used at a time, in conjunction with the mind, I have a greater awareness of experience.

From questioning the intangible, hypothetical beliefs, to discussing such absurd concepts as tangible land is petty and it makes me sick. It is embarrassing to call myself a human, with such barbaric actions "we" stand for. Land, laws, amendments? Who are we and what is this nonsense? Are we conditioned to fight? What is this territorial issue about? Humans are so out of touch with their own purpose that their interests subconsciously shift to the pettiness of ownership. Does it make them happy? At the end of the day, what is the value of that apparent "happiness"? Ownership is connected to happiness. Where does this happiness manifest itself and what is the value of it and to whom does it concern? I am never really sure what brings me true happiness versus what I am trained to associate with that feeling. I don't want to live a mediocre life in the brink of falling. Is anybody truly content?

Plato suggests that senses are distracting to the soul. I believe that my senses enhance my experience of life and impressions are based off a series of perceptions, churned by senses. Though the body dies and the soul continues, being swallowed by yet another form of physicality, this body holds captive the only soul it will know until my heart stops. If I'm trained to enjoy taste, smell, touch, soul and sight, then why not grab life by the horns and and embody these senses? To Plato, they are superficial and distracting but at the same time, I cannot be sure if souls are immortal so why waste a life denying my seemingly superficial senses? I should spend a day in Central Park and break up my day through measured time, experiences each of my senses individually. What a thought!...I suppose this is a circle without a kink so I should end now.

Reflecting on Taglit

I went to the Jewish quarter and prayed at The Kotel (Western Wall). I have heard stories of people breaking down from overwhelming emotion at the Western Wall. I did what I was supposed to and wrote a note but questioned it as a methodology of communication to G-d. I stood there and kissed the Western Wall, noting in my journal:

“bowing, crying, consoling, bowing again, eyes closed.

Backing up from the wall. I kissed it. I will forever be on that wall long after my physical body. Time and place. Is this a 2,000-year remorse for the loss of the Second Temple or are these people crying for their own personal losses. In the grand scheme of things, life, what will this one prayer do? What will these 60 seconds do? What will become of paper I just jammed into a crack in the wall? Will its message transcend? Transcend to where, a geographical location?”

I backed up from the Kotel. I wasn’t content and didn’t quite feel the connection emphasized by so many people.

A few days later, 8 Israeli soldiers joined our trip. We introduced ourselves and did a few icebreakers. At age 18, Americans are given freedom to make their own choices, go to college, not go to college, work, move away or do what we choose. At age 18, Israelis have their freedom taken away. They join the military and defend their country. Over the course of the trip, I discovered their time in the army made them stronger, united and mature. At age 18, they were all granted the opportunity to represent their country through pride.

On the 3^rd night, we traveled south in the Judean Desert to stay in Bedouin tents. That night, we walked in the desert, which is where I experienced my moment. It wasn’t at The Kotel, it was there, in the desert among the shadowed dunes and stars, which exposed my moment of intangible belief. I decided it was through living in the moment and for that, I needed to find a solution to satisfy my longing to appease this identity.

When they left, their final words were to tell us to have pride over our land, the land of Israel. They emphasized since we are all Jewish, Israel is ours, Israel is our home too. As I waved goodbye, I couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable with the fact Israel is my land too, yet I had just spent 10 days as a tourist, not as a family member who defends her home.

I look myself in the mirror and say I’m Jewish because I wear a star around my neck. What makes me Jewish? Is it my upbringing? Maybe it is because I go through the motions at services every Friday night. Is it because I bow towards Jerusalem when reciting the Amidah?

During the night hike in the desert, the group of about 50 of us stood in a circle and recited the song,

“Lo Yisa Goy” while gazing at the stars in Israel, the same stars I see on the rooftop of my New York apartment. We are all family and it is time to give back.

Lo Yisa Goy

Isaiah 2:4

Lo yisa goy el goy cherev

Lo yil’m’du od milchama.

Don’t walk in front of me I may not follow.

Don’t walk behind me I may not lead.

Just walk beside me and be my friend,

And together we will walk in the path of Hashem.

Sea Horse at RISD

Medium: Charcoal on Paper

Old Man, Take a Look at My Life

Medium: Pencil on Paper

Ella Fitzgeraldtini

Medium: Oil on Canvas

Bubble Blue

Medium: Marker, Ink on Paper