When I was 16 years old I traveled to Israel with my family for the first time. I fell in love. Deeply in love. With the place, the culture, the history, the feeling I had walking through the streets of Jerusalem, climbing Masada, floating in the Dead Sea—everything. We continued to visit Israel each year during the yeshiva winter break and my father and I even made a second trip every summer, oftentimes just the two of us.
Through these trips I created connections. Connections with others, some deeply close relationships that I’ve maintained to this day, as well as a strong connection with myself. Israel became a place where I felt the most “like me.” I imagine this related to the experience of feeling at home, with my people. My traditions and customs were understood and there was a general feeling of being within a nation, rather than just an individual.
As the years passed, my family’s schedules and vacations changed, but I maintained these trips. In fact, my first time traveling alone was to Israel during Thanksgiving a number of years ago, a trip that greatly impacted my recovery and taught me about love and friendship and what my life could be like without anorexia. Many of the steps I took toward recovery took place in Israel, or were impacted by my relationships there, including those of some best friends and a boyfriend at the time.
Soon, my trips to Israel became a lifeline. I would count down the days until I would next be traveling, saving up my money so that I could book a flight. Before a trip had concluded I was already thinking about the next time I’d be able to get away. My mother, in recent years, took to wondering about these trips, concerned that I might be using them as an escape, wondering if I was “running away.” In the winter months, when I’m more prone to depressed feelings, I’d often use language around waiting for my trip, exclaiming that there I would “re-charge my batteries.” While this may sound like normal language around vacations, these trips meant so much more to me and I therefore felt as if she misunderstood.
These trips, to me, were not used as an escape. Perhaps they can be labeled as an “escape” in a literal sense since I’m avoiding my routine and work obligations when I travel to another country on vacation. But it was never about escaping or avoidance to me. Rather, it was about reconnecting with myself, with my soul, that had become bombarded by my everyday responsibilities, by the hustle and bustle of all my roles.
I think of myself as someone who is extremely grateful for my life—the life that I almost lost—and for the circumstances I’ve been given, both good and bad, and, of course, for my relationships. Perhaps we can compare my Temimah-essence to that of stained glass. The colors and swirls do not change over time, but are impacted by my day-to-day life and the panes, therefore, need dusting and polishing. Much of what I do each day naturally polishes the glass, including, but not limited to, engaging in my relationships, the work that I love, my hobbies, etc. And yet people get bogged down by being overworked or overbooked, no matter how much we enjoy the activities themselves. It is for this reason that self-care can be so important. Self-care, or activities to reconnect with self, are not just for those who are feeling stressed. They apply to all, as reconnecting with oneself is what allows the stained glass to be polished and freshened.
My trips to Israel were not about putting off my responsibilities. Rather they were a way to reconnect with my soul and use the experiences and memories to naturally keep the window panes clear and shiny. I think of these trips as more than just fun or vacation but as an extreme form of self-care that allowed me to be reminded of the Temimah-essence that, at times, gets hazy amid my busy schedule. And I am so fortunate as I have so many people around me who arrive on my doorstep with metaphoric “Windex,” if you will, to help me stay connected.
These Israel trips are harder and harder to plan as a working, married woman. So I find ways at home to experience sprinkles of the same soul reconnection. Whether this is about planning a date with my husband or family or friends, or perhaps watching a favorite movie or reading a beloved book, or engaging in a Shiur or learning—I make the time to make choices that will allow me to feel as if my stained glass essence is still transparent and not being overlooked.
Recently, I was fortunate to travel with one of my best friends to Disney World, another place that touches my soul, and truly exhale from all that had been on my mind, as I reconnected with my child-self. What I learned on this trip will be explored in my next piece. Until then, see if you can create a list of things that will keep you connected to your soul-self and schedule the time for some much needed self-care.
By Temimah Zucker, LMSW
Temimah Zucker, LMSW, is a primary therapist at Monte Nido Manhattan. Since recovering from her own struggle with an eating disorder she immersed herself in the field as a writer, meal mentor, activist and public speaker.
