„I just wanna talk to You now

This is for the One

You kept me alive

And so I thank You

….

Two tabs of stone, I'm alone while these fans keep circling

Over the land like helicopter blades, I crave some breeze

Will you wait, wait for me, please?

Forty days and forty nights, but I can't stand much more

…

I walk with a limp, with a wound that bleeds

….

I had the dream, time to leave the doubt

Multicolored coat with blood on my sleeves

..

A rainbow-colored cry from the end to the start

Phantoms and ghosts, raise your glass and make a toast

This is for the One

שהחינו‎

הקדוש ברוך הוא

What we been through

Me and you”

(Matisyahu: Reservoir)

„In the evening, crying…

but in the morning- song!”

I know this is how the psalm goes -

but I was never a morning person and could not understand those who could sing in the morning with joy, especially without drinking their first coffee.

But you know what is special? That I found my Jewishness so „late” and now I feel like Ellen DeGeneres in the sitcom „Ellen” - just in the process of coming out, telling her dream to the therapist: that she hears the word „lesbian” everywhere in the grocery store and everything seems to be about that, all at once.

Right now, I feel like everything makes sense which didn’t before and I can happily embrace my ambivalences (“Guard the stillness, guard the weeping,
And above all, guard this song.”) and somehow I am not „strange” somewhere, or somehow finally not everything is the opposite way around!

Yet, this still seems to be opposite with me about the mornings and the nights.

What if we change the spelling and say: but in the mourning – song?

Could I identify with that?

No, I must say that when I was mourning, which for me, meant the pits of depression and the chosen well of chosen loneliness (I did not want to get out of the psychiatric ward because even there it was better than at home that time): I could not sing at all. I could not do anything at all, just sleep and read.

So how did You “pull me up” and how did You heal me, save me when I did not cry for help, I did not cry for you, I did not speak at all, let alone to You?

When I was just silent and wanted to sink deep into the pit and be left alone. I did not want to be healed at all, I wanted to stay sick, I loved the stigma of it.

How could I, once again, hear Your voice? I guess because Your Ratzon sounds for a “lifetime”, as the psalmist says and experiences.

You literally „brought me, body and spirit, up from Sheol” to where I longed for and tried to stay at that time. „You have kept me alive.” This is for the One. Thank you.