Sometime over the winter, one of the rabbis at my synagogue announced that there would be a week-long volunteer trip to Israel in August, for teenagers and adults, and, oh yeah, they were applying for a grant to subsidize half the cost of the trip.
That was all the information available at the time, but I already knew I wanted to go, desperately. I fought against the loud voice in my head telling me that going to Israel during the hottest month of the year, and volunteering, most likely outdoors, would be impossible for me, because the idea of going to Israel with people I knew, and being able to learn more about the situation on the ground, and to be of use, at an affordable price, just seemed like the answer to a lot of my prayers.
So, I started to prepare myself. I wrote out a long list of what I’d need to bring with me (meds, sunblock, water bottle, adapters for the electricity, sim card for the phone, a week’s worth of clothes, Icy Hot patches, extra pain meds, etc.), and I wrote through all of the reasons not to go (fear of the effect of the heat on my autoimmune symptoms, fear of being lonely, fear of pain and exhaustion, fear that something would happen to Mom or Tzipporah while I was gone, fear that I would be too shy to use my Hebrew, fear of feeling bored, or trapped, or disappointed, or confused, etc.). And then I wrote out as many ideas as I could think of for how to deal with those fears.
But despite all of my efforts, I couldn’t plan for the trip until I knew exactly what the trip would entail. So, I reached out to the rabbi with my concerns (how much time would be spent outdoors, would the volunteering activities be things I could actually do, would there be rest periods for recovery, etc.), and she sent me the planned itinerary, with the proviso that, because all of the volunteering locations were small and relatively new, there wouldn’t be any room for adaptations.
And it looked amazing! They would barely be staying in one place for more than a day, traveling to the north and the south and in between, meeting people who were rebuilding in the north after a year of bombing from Hezbollah, and meeting Israelis of all religious backgrounds working to help each other, and meeting families of those who were killed on October seventh, and families of hostages, and Palestinian citizens of Israel, and helping rebuild the agriculture sector in the south that was impacted both by October seventh and by so many men being pulled into the army reserves and out of the fields. There was one afternoon set aside for potential beach time, but other than that, free time didn’t exist.
I was in awe of the opportunity to meet so many different people working in so many different parts of Israeli society, and the more I read, the more I wanted to go. But no matter how I tried to move things around in my mind, and research all of the sites and turn the pages this way and that, it became clear that I would barely survive day one, let alone a whole week. Except, a big part of me was still in denial, imagining that if I just spent the next few months in physical therapy, and had a miraculous recovery from all of my health issues before August, and maybe found myself a full-body airconditioned suit to wear, I’d be okay.
The tour guide who would be leading the trip (and who had been leading bi-weekly zooms for us since October seventh, to help us understand how Israelis were reacting to the Hamas attack and the ensuing war), came to the synagogue for an in-person visit leading up to registration for the trip. I sat in the sanctuary and listened to his impassioned thoughts on the current political turmoil in Israel, and the moral quandaries of the war, and the grief and anger around the hostages still trapped in Gaza, and the communal efforts to support those who were struggling, and I could envision myself in Israel, marching for the hostages, and marching for democracy. In my imagination I could walk for miles, in the heat, singing and calling out at the top of my lungs, even though I’ve never been able to do anything like that here at home.
At one point in the evening, when I was sitting next to the older rabbi from our congregation, who had either led or participated in every previous synagogue trip to Israel, and who had marched in many protests over the years, I told him how much I wanted to go on this trip, and he told me that he would not be going because it would be too much for him. “But, but doesn’t it look amazing?!” I asked, and he shrugged and said, “You can’t do what you can’t do. There will be other trips.”
And the bubble burst. I knew he was right, and that he was speaking as much to my situation as to his, whether he meant to or not. Of course I couldn’t go on this trip, and it felt awful to have to know that; just like it feels awful every time I have to accept a reality I don’t like. You would think I’d be more practiced at handling disappointment by now, but I suck at it every single time.
I still made a point of applying for a new passport though (after years of putting it off), just in case, and I kept my packing list and my research on the different volunteering sites, and I continued to add hundreds of Israel-related videos to my YouTube watchlist to fill out my understanding of the culture and the people. One day, hopefully not too far in the future, the right opportunity to go to Israel will come up, and in the meantime I will keep doing the work I am capable of doing so that I’m ready to go when the time comes.
If you haven’t had a chance yet, please check out my novel, Yeshiva Girl, on Amazon. And if you feel called to write a review of the book, on Amazon, or anywhere else, I’d be honored.
Yeshiva Girl is about a Jewish teenager on Long Island, named Isabel, though her father calls her Jezebel. Her father has been accused of inappropriate sexual behavior with one of his students, which he denies, but Izzy implicitly believes it’s true. As a result of his problems, her father sends her to a co-ed Orthodox yeshiva for tenth grade, out of the blue, and Izzy and her mother can’t figure out how to prevent it. At Yeshiva, though, Izzy finds that religious people are much more complicated than she had expected. Some, like her father, may use religion as a place to hide, but others search for and find comfort, and community, and even enlightenment. The question is, what will Izzy find?
rachelmankowitz 
I like that you realized that the old Rabbi was sort of a proxy for you and your concerns. The extra time will allow you to prepare more mindfully for another working visit to Israel. I hope that happens for you when the time is right.
Thank you! Fingers crossed!
“You can’t do what you can’t do.”–but kudos to you for making a list of the pros and cons of the trip for yourself. Those are baby steps, but to me, BIG baby steps. In all due time, Rachel.
I hope so! Thank you!
I do hope you are able to go.
Me too! Thank you!
Getting your passport is a great step towards your goal.
I feel really good about it! Except for the picture. The picture is terrible.
I’ve had about seven or eight passports and the photo is never great…
It’s some combination of the lighting, not being able to wear my glasses, and not being able to smile. There are so many rules!
I echo Swabby’s comment, Rachel. He said it well. I hope it happens for you when the time is right as well.
Thank you!
Goodness, this resonates with me! I’m at an age where I’m having difficulty accepting that there are things I could do in even the recent past that I just can’t any longer. I definitely need this statement as a mantra.
I also have confidence that, when the time is right, you will get there.
Reality is so annoying sometimes, but I’m hoping some light is on the way.
Frustrating, but hopefully something will come up that you can do. I have less choices now due to age and mobility, but hope I find I can do what I can do.
There have always been so many things I couldn’t do, and yet I’ve never been at a loss for something to do. The math of that is confusing, but it’s true. I have to be willing to forego the first or second thing on my wishlist, or the thing other people want for me or from me, and then it turns out I have a lot of options.
Smart choice for now. And anyway, you couldn’t leave that darling dog!
Seriously!!!
You’ve come to a sound decision plus you have a new passport! The right time will come.
I hope so! Thank you!
I’m reminded of the saying: The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. I do believe that this condition still allows us to enjoy so much of life. It is joy that enlivens our minds. And even though we may not always be able to partake physically. When this acceptance comes, the spirit can enjoy in multiple ways the joy that others experience. You have been doing this already in your preparations. Enjoy what you can!
I will keep trying! Thank you!
Re-reading my comment it seems a little harsh. I have been in your position many times (in different circumstances) and this attitude meant the difference between being stuck in an untenable situation, or being flexible and free. Your day will come!
Thank you!
When it’s meant to be, it will happen for you. God bless and sorry this isn’t the right time for you to go.
Thank you!
You know Rachel, and I have said this numerous times, I just love your posts, genuine, honest, human pieces that they are. It’s like catching up with an old friend from college over a coffee and a morning bagel or croissant or even a pastry (if I have been doing my walking).
For me? You’ve already been there, all your preparations have put you right where you’d wish to be in your heart. You’re already there.
You can’t do what you can’t do?
Understood ( I have my limitations as well), but you still do what you CAN do and that is in spirit, in the comradery of thought, just minus some wished new imagined ground beneath your feet.
You do this everyday.
You’re already there.
You do the work.
Cheers to you and Mom and “Z”.
Just keep the “Go” bag by the way, ya never know. 🙂
Thank you so much! I need to print this out and put it up on the wall in front of my computer!
Well I would be proud. Just keep being Rachel.
Me and my furry girls say gotcha and getcha.
And some belly rubs to “Z” 🙂
Thank you!
I am so sorry you can’t go………. this time. I agree with Stephen. You can’t do what you can’t do, but you can do what YOU CAN! And in doing that, it will prepare you for doing what you can’t at the moment. Take heart Rachel.
Thank you!
My heart goes out to you Rachel. I’m so sorry that this sounds like the perfect trip but not the right time.
I’m hopeful that this will be an opportunity for you in the future. Beautiful writing as always.
Thank you!!!
Oh it does sound amazing. I’ve been where you are and the rabbi said it best, “you can’t do what you can’t do.” I also know it is possible that the ‘you can’t do list” is one written in pencil and items do come off. I’ve been trying to go to Italy for about 40 years, specifically to see where my family hails from. When I was younger and able, something would get in its way, work or an illness. As I got older, time was against me. And now I have the time but not the physical capacity. Yet, like you, I continue to plan. It down’s mean we want get to our dream destinations. It means we won’t get there just yet.
I love the idea that the list is written in pencil, and therefore it can change over time. That’s very helpful. Thank you!
May the day for your trip arrive soon, Rachel, and arrive in peaceful ties.
Thank you! That would be wonderful!
Your heart is in the right place Rachel, keep doing what you can do even if it means, from afar. I hope you love yourself for any decision made. 🤗✡️
I keep trying. Thank you!
🤗
Thank you Rachel. I enjoy reading your views
Thank you!
I know exactly how you feel, it’s sooo frustrating when health issues get in the way of the things you want to do. But it sounds like you’re doing plenty right where you are, and Tzipporah must be a great comfort.
Watching Tzipporah relax, or enjoy a snack, is incredibly comforting. You are absolutely right!
You’ll get there at some point, Rachel. It certainly does seem that you’d reached the point in your thought processes where the Rabbi’s observation was what you needed to hear.
Tzipporah is looking more and more comfortable with each photo!
I can’t see the changes day by day, but when I look back at pictures of Tzipporah from a month ago I can really see her progress!
The very best some of us can do is pray, Rachel. ❤
G-d knows your heart. I’m sure He will have something you are able to do that will be both a blessing to others and rewarding to you. Please be patient and keep your mind open for whatever that is.
I will try!
Some years ago, an old man called Varnish John gave me similar advice, in quite different circumstances; it boiled down to “Do what you can, not what you can’t.” Sometimes he’d vary it, and say, “Start where you can start, and do what you can do.” His wisdom has stayed with me. At one point I wrote the story, with a little philosophizing thrown in. You can read it here if you like.
I still have to remind myself of his wisdom when struggling with desires that I have neither the time nor money to fulfill!
Thank you for this!
I like that you looked forward. That you tried. That you listened to your heart and your mind. And that you didn’t give up, and that as long as you keep on trying, there’s a chance that will happen.
What amazing fortitude you demonstrate. The world would be much better if more of us had your strength.
Take care. M
Thank you so much!
I really liked your pros and cons and then your list of ways to overcome your cons – although this trip wasn’t a good match for you, there WILL be a good trip and meanwhile you are making a difference for so many thru your blog and teaching and of course at home with Mom and Tz! (still can’t spell her name!) 😉XOV
Thank you so much!
I think it would be too stressful for you Rachel. If you had committed to it, the worry would be likely to escalate. You would probably feel dread rather than joy at the thought of the visit. Yesterday a rocket from Yemen landed near Ben Gurion Airport. There were four intercept missiles deployed but they didn’t stop this one. There was only one reported casualty, but if the rocket had hit the airport it would have been a different story. Planes already in the sky were allowed to land but there were cancellations of the rest. My friend was tracking all this because her daughter was in one of the planes in the sky at the time. It landed safely. Can you imagine how stressed you and your mother would be if you had committed to the journey? Stay in New York, enjoy your teaching and community and help your dog enjoy her life.
One of the things the rabbi told me was that she’s telling everyone to fly through EL AL, because it’s the only company that will fly in and out of Israel no matter what. The fact that the Houthis were able to get to Ben Gurion airport, even the parking lot, is frightening. Israelis are resilient, me, not so much.
By the way, Have you read Leaving Eastern Parkway?
Never heard of it. Is it good?
yes, read it. I think you might enjoy it and let me know.
amazing post! I love how you write!
Thank you so much!
This is such a heartfelt and courageous reflection—preparing not just physically but emotionally too. It’s inspiring how you faced your fears head-on with thoughtfulness and hope. Wishing you strength and meaningful experiences on this journey!
Thank you so much!
Bravo for you! 👏
Thank you!
Hi Rachel – You would expect from my blogging experience that one’s never too old or handicapped to travel. I think with your passport updated, your fears may change.
I hope so!
Much appreciated.
i love your pics and hope you get away
Thank you!
I like that you applied for your passport! That is a positive step. You have obviously prepared yourself in so many ways. -Lorri M
I’m working on it! Thank you!