Ha sof

A chapter closes, a chapter begins.

I'm back at http://run-erin-run.blogspot.com/.

The decision.

I had a bomb dropped on me two weeks ago.

I know, from someone living in Israel that is probably a bad choice of words, because it could actually be taken literally.

But, no, even worse – my world has been turned upside down and backwards and inside out by hearing the person I was prepared to spend the rest of my life with tell me he’s not happy, he doesn’t think we’re working, and that we should think about separating.

I have run the gamut of analysis and blaming and trying to figure out how this happened. Did we have problems? Of course – in my last post I even mentioned them. But now, what it comes down to is my reality of working on them and improving things and evolving together as a couple has been shattered by someone else’s unwillingness to do any of those things. This reality of mine was apparently an illusion. Or, maybe, a one-sided mirror, as I could only see what I was doing and missed out on the fact that he was not willing to make us work.

Believe me, I could spend the better part of a lifetime explaining and analyzing and trying to figure this one out. But, in the end, I cannot make someone want to work on a relationship if they are unwilling to. I cannot give someone love that doesn’t adjust and change and evolve with life. I cannot guarantee someone happily-ever-after when he doesn’t think there is some sort of work involved now and then. That there are phases; ups and downs. He basically made the decision – without me – and as much as it hurts, I have to put myself back in the drivers seat, as my mom says. Except I feel like I'm driving in a Britain, all backwards and on the wrong side of the road.

So, in addition to all that sucks about a break-up, I have the added twist of being in Israel. So, over the last few days, almost a week, I have been processing my options. At first, of course, I couldn’t even think about making any kind of decision because I was too busy trying to figure out the magic words to say to make him realize the error of his ways. Eventually, I started to let thoughts about myself enter into my cloudy brain. And, little by little, things are becoming clearer.

I didn’t automatically think to jump on the next plane. Well, maybe I did, but the destinations varied from the US to wherever the next plane was going. Surprise me; just get me out of here.

But then, after a while, I realized that I wouldn’t automatically be miserable staying here. In fact, quite the opposite. I have an amazing support system with the people in my lab and the other friends I’ve made here. I could, technically, stay here and rearrange my life and be perfectly fine. I know people looking for roommates; I have offers from dear friends for spare rooms in their homes. I am eligible to renew my visa and continue my postdoc. After all the bureaucratic blah blah I’ve had to deal with since being here, changing my bank account and phone and moving suddenly seem like small hurdles if I really wanted to start over here.

But would I be happy? Would I be staying here just to prove that I could? Out of spite? On top of that, all my current fears about being stuck in this postdoc indefinitely even though it’s not something I want to keep doing – fears I was having anyway – wouldn’t go away with all this life readjustment.

So, all that considered, I really want to return to the States. It was in this vein that I made the terribly difficult phone call to Mr. Boss, who is currently on sabbatical and out of the country. He threw a wrench into things, by making me the hugely generous offer of letting me return for a long vacation (in his mind that's 2 weeks, but never mind), keep my postdoc and salary, so if I can look for jobs while I still have a position (and of course continue my work in the lab). Tempting, because I know it's risky to wrap up now. And, of course, professionally speaking, it would be worth my while to stay, have more publications wrapped up, and not leave so suddenly. I’m sure in his mind, he doesn’t see what my rush is to leave when I don’t have anything “better” lined up already in the States. Actually, more than just not seeing, he thinks I’m making a terrible mistake (“throwing my future in the garbage” was, I believe, the phrase used).

Except that a-I wanted to leave the postdoc, anyway, even if I stayed, so it's not exactly motivation for me to stay and "finish," whatever that means (although Mr. Boss doesn't know that, although I did tell him I was wanting to move into editing/writing. I also did not tell him I could be happy doing a whole list of things that had nothing to do with my Ph.D., but again, never mind); b-looking for jobs in the States while living in Israel? Um, no thanks; c-there is an as-yet unpublished manuscript involved, but worse case I get moved to second author if another student has to do reviewer-mandated revisions after I'm gone. For what I want to do (non-academic science, whatever that means), I’m not sure it really matters; d-it would mean arranging an apartment, visa, etc for a temporary return; e-I would still be stuck in a postdoc I don't want anymore for an indeterminate amount of time - who knows how long this manuscript will be bumped around? Who knows how long a job search would take? How many times would that mean me going back and forth between the States for job interviews and moving and everything? Mr. Boss cannot understand the need for a mental health break – rehab, if you will – without any obligation or pressure to return back here or to make a desperate decision about my next job. I think he'll be fine, and I know I'll have a good recommendation from him and his support no matter what - and I guess at the end I don't really need him to understand, I just want him to be able to discuss with me how to best leave things here, even if he doesn't agree with my decision.

I have parents helping me out with a move back and giving me a crash pad in the States. I have amazing friends and family who I miss dearly on whose couches I can surf across the US (especially in NYC, which pulls at my heart-strings anyway). I'm under no delusion that I can stay unemployed indefinitely. But, I don't even know where I want to be, what I want to be doing. The basic fact is, I need time. And maybe, also closure. I have the chance to make a decision completely selfishly, completely based on what I think will make me the most happy, and I want to get to the point where I can make that decision. Staying here with vague obligations and feeling stuck will not get me there.

...and on a personal note:

Writer’s block? Maybe. Life block? Maybe that, too. For whatever reason, finding the motivation to write and post here has been at an all-time low. Life feels like kind of a mess right now, and for someone who likes everything in order, I don’t like to see that in writing. It’s like an admission I’m not perfect.

Yes, I know, get over myself.

So, I could say something cliché like “life is at a crossroads right now” to explain my spinning head and not-unhappy-but-not-happy current state. However, that whole ‘crossroads’ analogy implies there are three distinct options from which to choose: left, straight, right.

(As an aside, whenever I hear that phrase, I picture one of those intersections in the middle of bumblefuck Western US, with four dirt roads meeting, no street signs, flat desert landscape, tumbleweeds, and the decision-maker is of course driving a pickup. I’d like to claim this visual as my own, but it was probably in a movie.)

Anyway, my crossroads right now seem more like blindly stepping into the darkness, not really knowing the direction, not knowing if the first step will be solid ground beneath me, wishing I could just jump over the first step and land somewhere down the path, happy and fulfilled and not wondering all the time.

I am trying to be better at being happy in the moment, instead of always trying to get to whatever’s next. Pretty much my whole life, I’ve had some idea of what the next step would be. The high school-college-grad school path is not particularly thought-provoking, and there was security in knowing there was a line between Point A and Point B, which would lead to Point C. I could assert my independence by extending that line to far-off places.

Even the initial move to Israel, despite the picture of romance and adventure, was really just an extension of the same line. Making the decision of course wasn’t done overnight, but once I did, things were pretty well mapped out. I found a postdoc, I had somewhere to live, I’d start learning the language, Ron and I would be together; while everything that comes with living in a new country was challenging at best, there was still an order and a line through it all.

So now what? I’m unhappy being a scientist. I want to write and/or edit, but there are no scientific journals in Israel. I have a student visa, so I’m not eligible to work here even if I did find a job. My Hebrew is improving but not to the point where I could work in the language. Ron and I are dealing with a changing relationship – the excitement of falling in love in NYC, the struggles of being apart, the bliss of finally being back together has now entered “boring everyday life” phase.

I could go on and on (and when I do, I usually end up in some state of anxiety/tears/depression/overwhelmed, so I won’t). The basic point is: there is no more line. You would think that this would make me feel completely free and liberated, to be able to do whatever I want, but it doesn’t. Instead, the best way for me to describe my current situation: stuck. As if every way I want to try to make the first step into the darkness is blocked. The problem is, I think, is that every step I’ve thought to take has not actually been so far from the line. Whatever I do next will be making up my own line. I need to now think completely outside the box, find creativity, and make up my next move.

So, what’s a girl to do? If I am blocked in my attempts to make big steps, I guess I try half steps? Big step: quitting my postdoc for a job based in Israel and hope they can sponsor a work visa. Half-step: starting the application procedure for a resident visa. So, that doesn’t get me un-stuck from my postdoc, but at least it will remove a block in my path. It would give me the option to start doing freelance work, anyway, if I decide to quit without having a physical job lined up.

Big step: trying to establish myself as a freelance science editor. Half-step: sending my CV to online editing firms, working with them for a bit until I move from my postdoc, figuring out what it entails, and then maybe doing it on my own here in Israel, if it’s something I still like doing. Again, not exactly a career-changer, but it gives me the chance to develop my skills and something to think about other than my postdoc.

Big step: incorporating my love for running, fitness, nutrition that has always been an important part of my life and a hobby into “what I do.” Half step: well, that’s a good question. I’ve started talking to people I know who are personal trainers, fitness buffs, etc. I could see myself doing one-on-one sessions with clients (not working for a gym), setting up a fitness blog based on science, all basically on the side (a “don’t give up your day job” sort of arrangement). We’ll see. I thought maybe also to try to start a women’s beginner running group – basically to advertise to some of the online forums in Jerusalem, meet once a week in the park without really much of a plan, just a comfortable group to run/walk with other women without any embarrassment about being newbies.

So is putting all this in writing admitting that I am lost and need help? Maybe. And I’m not good at that. But it’s the one big step I know I can take right now, and that feels good.

Why running is like life. Or vice versa.

Ok, yes this is an old cliché and totally not original, but if these thoughts have been bouncing around in my head on runs, I must get them out! Call it an exercise in jazzing up a tired metaphor.

There are easy parts: where you’re coasting along and feeling great like you could go on forever. No effort required - your legs and lungs and heart are a well-oiled machine.

And then, bam: a stone trips you up. Your left foot trips you up. You didn’t even see it coming, but you’re down. Hopefully it’s minor, and after hopping on one foot and then the other to assess the damage, with some light self-swearing for being a clutz, you’re off again, with maybe a nice bloody elbow or bruised knee to prove your hardcore-ness.

Sometimes it’s serious, and you have to stop. But you haven’t really stopped, you’re just in healing-phase instead of running-phase, and it will still build you into a better runner, just less obviously-so. The hardest part is to be smart enough to know when to leave the healing phase and enter back into the running phase: not too soon but not too late.

Sometimes the obstacle is much greater than a rock or a rogue left foot. Sometimes something impassable is in front of you – a fallen tree, a wall, the edge of a cliff perhaps. You stop, wondering where to go, because you’ve come to far to turn around and go back. So you go around. Sometimes that means going seemingly sideways for miles, but it’s better than going backwards. Soon you’ll be able to cross to the other side and keep moving confidently forward.

A hill is not one of these obstacles, no matter how big and scary it seems at the bottom. In this case, no change of direction is needed. Just a deep breath, good form, small steps, and the humility to move at a slower pace than what you’re used to on flat ground. In really dire circumstances, throw the form part out of the window, and just put your head down and use brute force to get to the top.

Don’t anticipate the hills that may be in the future, they will only cause you to seize up and slow down in the present, before it’s time.

Sometimes you move through familiar territory, where you know every turn and every step. While you can make great pace here, it is easy to coast without assessing how you feel. On the other hand, sometimes you find yourself in strange neighborhoods, senses heightened but pace lowered. Even if you feel slightly lost, you usually can sense the general direction you want to be going. Maybe you won’t get there in the most efficient way, but just having your wits about you to know more or less where you are will get you there.

Sometimes it feels like everything is going wrong – there’s a storm, the wind is moving in circles and always in your face, your shoes keep coming untied, and you just feel like sitting to let it all pass over you. Running through the storm is a much more exhilarating way to get out of it than to sit and passively let it roll by.

It’s fun to get caught up in all the extra toys and gadgets and wicking materials and accessories and shoes guaranteed to make you fly and all of that. Just don’t forget that all you really need to run is simply your body.

In the middle of a tough part, it’s easy to look only a few feet in front of you, staring at the road hoping it will end soon. Look up – you could be missing an amazing view that puts everything into perspective.

katzat technai

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Being an ex-pat on 9/11

Being an American in a foreign country has given me the chance to see the USA from a different perspective and has actually taught me a lot about what it really means to be American. Being an American in Israel is especially enlightening, I think, because there are so many ways in which the two countries are similar, so many ways they are different, and so many ways each misunderstands the other.

I proudly voted for Obama right before I moved here - it was a time of great hope but also began what I see as a trend of division and ugliness. As soon as I moved, I found myself having to explain things I was not (and still am not) qualified to explain: the financial crisis, Obama's foreign policy and view of Israel, the opposition to the healthcare reform bill, the Tea Party, Sarah Palin. There are intricacies of the US political system that cannot be understood by a country of just under 8 million people with a Parliamentary system of government.

What I cannot explain is the recent trend of hate, ugliness and ignorance coming from the US. And I am no longer talking about what is going on in politics, although that is bad enough. It is horrifying to watch your fellow citizens display their ignorance about their President, about the political decisions they need to make when they go to vote, about what is science and what is religion, and about people different from them.

One of the great things about America is that we are allowed to express our opinions, protest, and be pissed off at our country. What scares me is the lack of factual information used to form these opinions. It seems that instead of wanting to hear both sides of the story in order to form an intelligent opinion, people just seek others who share their same views and sit around agreeing with each other and yelling at the other side in a big am-not-are-too playground battle. Most of the time, it seems these groups think the louder and more extreme they are, the more correct and righteous that makes them. And the one person who is holding his cool and trying to fix the mess he inherited is constantly under attack for not having solved these problems yesterday.

The news of the NYC mosque and the Quran-burning pastor has of course made it to this neck of the woods. I found myself at Shabbat dinner last night, surrounded by 60+-year-old native Israelis, almost in tears discussing these events. Imagine that, someone from the big Melting Pot trying to explain to people who have a daily threat from Arab Muslims how we can be so wrongly scared of Islam.


Again, I think it's amazing that America is a place where people can protest and express their opinions, no matter how controversial, uncomfortable, or extreme. What I think has really struck a nerve with me is not so much the actual act of burning the Quran, but on doing so on the memory of all those who perished on 9/11. Have we learned nothing in the past 9 years?! This is how people want to remember the dead? By letting ignorance and hatred penetrate our nation? What a departure from the sense of solidarity and patriotism that occurred in the aftermath of the attacks.

My hopes for America as we remember the horrific day 9 years ago and seek to honor those who died:

Hug your families and loved ones and be thankful each day that you have them.

Instead of shutting down and putting up a wall between you and someone with a different opinion, listen to them. Challenge yourself to understand their point of view because it will only make your opinion that much stronger.

Celebrate our differences. Learn from them. Be thankful you live in a country where these differences can even exist.


Continue to fight and be pissed off, but at least do so intelligently and effectively. Being ill-informed and loud doesn't make you right, just noisy.


Instead of burning the Quran, read it. Instead of shutting the doors of a mosque, enter one. Learn about the religion and realize the beauty that the great majority of followers see in it. At the same time, realize how it is extorted by extremists and the danger in equating the religion with terrorism. Islam =/= al Qaeda.

'Tis the season...

...for figs!

One of my favorite things about Israel (of course it would be food-related) is the abundance of fresh produce here. There are only a handful of fruits and veggies that the States does better - apples and corn, to name two.

Our landlord has tons of fruit trees around the yard. Unfortunately, this year's weather prevented the berry and cherry trees from producing much of anything. My disappointment at not being able to pluck fresh cherries from the backyard was compounded by the fact that the same weather affected all the country's orchards, thus driving up fruit prices at the market. It's hard to spend 12 shekels/kilo on peaches when last year they were half that.

But the figs! The figs survived! The figs are coming! Ron collected all those you see in the photo (minus the half-dozen we promptly devoured for breakfast). And they are so. Good. And I think this would explain the appearance of two fruit bats to our yard last night - last year we would sit outside after the sun went down and watch them fly around the yard, confused by Ron's squeaking bat-calls. Last night was the first night we saw any! All because of the figs!