1991 Happiness is the way to the top

We all get a job in the kibbutz and I have to work in the garden, together with Henk; Weeding, mowing, pruning and then taking all rubbish with the tractor to the green waste mountain. It is the first time that I have been separating waste, although I have no real awareness of it at the time. It goes as it goes, everything under the warm, inspiring leadership of Hanina, a friendly fifty-something, who is increasingly concerned about our well-being, whether we are not working too hard and taking enough rest, while we are actually feeling very well. 

I’m unusually happy when I’m on that tractor just like that. I sometimes realize that at the time, but often it is gone the moment I realize it and returns silently when I don’t think about it. Nature and the absence of people and physical work have gotten me a lot together. I could go on like this forever and presumably a kibbutz with a tractor has been arranged for me in the afterlife, without a bathroom break or sandwiches in plastic bags. Yes, you can make it up as crazy as you want it to be, I have always found that the advantage of the afterlife. 

There are countless times when I am happy in Israel, as if everything is more natural and I slide through life as smooth as an eel. I also remember a trip to the Dead Sea, En Gedi and Masada. The Dead Sea is fascinating, because you float very high in it but can also collapse into it and En Gedi is an oasis in the desert, but during the climb to the top of Masada via the snake path I felt most present. And that is exactly what I remember well, that it is not about the top or the view, but about the endless road to it, the expectation, the effort, if precisely in that lies life itself. I have something similar later on the way to the top of Table Mountain and earlier in the lift of the Euromast. 

Ate Vegter, December 4, 2020 

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