Unpacked: A Walker Returns Home

I am a kitchen knife. Not a butter knife, a chopping knife, or any special sort of knife. I’m just a knife. My only defining characteristic is my neon green handle. I am a kitchen knife, and this is my story.

I was born in China, manufactured together with thousands of other knives identical to myself. Five years ago, I made the trip from China to Israel, together with scores of cutlery and other kitchenware colleagues. The journey was bumpy and dark- I spent it locked in a wooden crate- but I passed the time by dreaming of a new future in a foreign land cutting foreign foods.

My serrated blade is of the finest stainless steal. My handle, like I said, is plastic- not rubber or some ergonomic material like fancier knives. But to date, I’ve never slipped or been dropped, and I have never cut the person holding me and cutting with me. I cut well, and serve those who request my assistance.

After just a few months on a shelf in a Jerusalem market, I was purchased by Yannai and Chana. (more…)

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There is a Jewish tradition that God created the world with ten sentences.

Imagine that. Ten sentences, an entire world.

Those of you who are skilled in both math and linguistics, might have noticed that I am already in my fourth sentence. I do believe that I have created in you the sense of “where is this going?”- but compared with God’s first four sentences, in which He created light and dark, heaven and earth and probably more, I’m feeling pretty lame.

Now granted, God has the whole All-powerful thing going for Him. I gather that that’s a handy attribute when it comes to creating. So I don’t feel that bad that God is a better creator than I am.

But Jewish tradition also maintains that humans can, and are supposed to imitate God. And perhaps the most Godly of our human capabilities is speech. When we speak, our words create, too. (more…)

I would like to tell you of the tea that steeps peacefully before me. Like most things of apparent insignificance, this tea contains within it depth beyond measure.

The tea, a Tazo tea called “Om,” is a blend of green and black teas, imbued, according to Tazo, with the “spirit and taste of the high Himalayas.” I am not familiar with the spirit and taste of the high Himalayas, but I can recommend it with a touch of lemon and honey.

The tea’s paper encasing explains the name, Om, with the following: “The word Om is frequently seen on prayer wheels, stones and flags as you walk through the Himalayas. To merely say it releases a vibration of peace. Imagine what happens when you drink it.”

Let us leave Om for just a moment.

For six months, Chana and I walked. As our walk unfolded, so did the following understanding between us: If I don’t feel like speaking right now, I won’t. If you don’t feel like speaking right now, I won’t pressure you. The result was twofold:

1-Comfortable Silence: We could comfortably absorb our surroundings, relive a conversation in our heads, contemplate something, not think about anything and/or simply enjoy silence for the sake of silence.

2-Real Conversation: Because we didn’t feel compelled to speak, we had real conversations. We spoke lightly and we spoke intensely. But no matter what the conversation, we were fully committed. (more…)