Acting Normal While Israel Fights For Our Lives

And a recipe you can make today!

Thank the G-d of good outcomes that he has brought into my life people who are also glued to the news while our Israeli family are fighting for all of us. It is surreal to go places where no one cares, where Americans are just going on with their daily lives, and act “normal.” In so far as I ever act normal…

Text feels like a heartbeat. Connecting us across state lines, across oceans, around the world. I’m watching the news, watched Mike Doran’s interview with Bari Weiss from last night which I highly recommend, going to catch up on Israel Update even though it’s about out of date… I’d watch Gadi read the Tel Aviv phone book if Tel Aviv had a phone book.

We had our Sunday program at my Zendo this morning, so I went. It is always nice to sit zazen with my friends. I went to the one on one meeting with one of my teachers. No one there said anything about what’s going on in the Middle East, but for the most part we don’t talk. As we were leaving people started talking about the protests yesterday. Everyone assumes everyone else is a liberal or progressive. Years ago a senior student giving a talk shocked everyone by getting out his Republican voter registration card. It was a way of illustrating the line from The Identity of Relative and Absolute, a famous sutra, that goes, “In the way there is no Northern or Southern ancestor.” He made an important point: we should not turn zen into the political rally that so many progressive churches and synagogues have become. We are here for a different purpose.

“No, I most certainly did not,” I said to the person who asked if I’d been to the protest. “My days of doing that sort of thing are long gone.” Then I walked out, as I was leaving anyway. On the way out I said to my friend Nick who had been the jikido (which means master of ceremonies, basically, the person who rings the bells and gives instructions), “I really hoped to keep politics out of this.”

“Yeah, they have a way of creeping in,” he said, and we talked about the weather and our cats.

It’s my first Father’s Day without my father. I miss him. I’d love to be able to talk to him about what’s going on. He would understand and he would care. He was so proud of my pro-Israel writing. We could pray in Hebrew.

Meanwhile, I attempt to act normal. I can’t fight the war, so I made Israeli salad and egg muffins instead.

Here’s the Israeli salad in case you’ve forgotten:

Tomatoes, cucumbers, red and yellow bell peppers chopped up with the juice of fresh lemons, sea salt, and olive oil. I add a touch of red wine vinegar but that’s not in the original Israeli recipe. I hope I don’t get deported. Wait, I’m not in Israel. Right.

Here’s the new egg muffin recipe:

1 small carton of eggwhites

8 whole eggs

1 box Jiffy corn muffin mix

2 red bell peppers, diced

Shredded mozzarella cheese

Mix all the ingredients but the cheese and pour the batter into either a well greased muffin tin or line the tin with muffin cups. Bake at 350 for awhile, until they look solid, then top with the cheese. You can top with the cheese before baking if your oven won’t burn the tops. Use your judgment, you know your oven like only a parent can know their child. My oven is very old and moody so I adapt accordingly.

Cooking made me feel better, useful, something. I don’t want to dwell on missing my dad. Father’s Days were often complicated for various reasons, and it is in some ways easier to not have to choose between being with him on this day and not being there. But I miss him. I join the legions of people who have Father’s Day without their own father. I have no human children, so no father of my children to celebrate. I assume Loviefluffy’s father was a cat of some kind. Maybe black? Maybe gray tabby? He is no doubt long dead now. He would have been an outdoor cat. He probably had many children he never met. Cats are different. I am her mommy now.

Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there, of humans, cats, dogs, bearded dragons, fish, and all. Happy Father’s Day to Loviefluffy’s father in heaven, across the Rainbow Bridge. I wonder if he ever found a human or if he was happy as a wild outdoor cat. I’m sure he would be glad she’s found her way to the very top of the world’s food chain, with an American human serving her every need.

Stay safe, Israeli friends. Thank you. On behalf of all Americans, even those who don’t know it and say they hate you or don’t care. I know and my friends know that you are fighting for all of us. I wish there was more I could do. Sometimes all we can do is pray. I’m with you, from far away. With you always.