Page 22 - Holyland Magazine - 2021 Edition

me. In 48 days of hiking (the Jewish Sabbath
not included as a hiking day), I walked either
entirely alone or with an occasional nod or
exchange with others along the way.
It wasn’t exactly the 40 days and 40 nights of
Moses on Mt. Sinai, nor the 40 years of the
Children of Israel’s wandering in the desert—
but it felt like a little of both. 48 days of
contemplation—of life, of destiny, of priorities, and more. But crucially, I had an epiphany at
of God, of fate, of politics and love and history that moment which would stay with me for the
and philosophy. And it started out in the
mountains just north and west of Eilat.
It was here I found or recognized a number of
truths and tools that not only enabled me to
overcome the challenges of the actual physical
difficulties of the trek, but inspired me to move of my efforts over the preceding days. It was
forward with my life and to conquer my anguish
and despair.
It’s hard to convey the power, the intensity,
and the joy I was privileged to experience
while hiking the Shvil. I’ll share here just one
anecdote from so many, to illustrate a lesson
we can apply to our everyday life.
Three days and about 20 miles into my hike,
I ascended some 2000 feet to the top of
Maale Amram, the third of dozens of peaks.
I was already exhausted, almost beaten by
the heat, the loneliness, the steep ascents
(and descents), and overwhelming silence of
the desert. Wondering what the heck I was
doing, I reached the summit, and in a whirl of
triumph, with a whoop of victory, spun around
a few times.
What I saw made me stop, think, and marvel.
Looking back the way I’d come, the panorama
was glorious: dark and light brown hills spread
Aryeh at Carbolet summit.
Big photo: Hod Akev,
overlooking the cliff
out beneath me, with the Jordan valley to
my left and the hills of biblical Moav, today’s
Jordan, beyond… and in the distance, the Red
Sea, shimmering in the late afternoon light. Did
I really climb Mt. Shlomo and all the others?
Was I really crazy, or was I embarking on a
thrilling, fantastic journey?
The truth slowly dawned on me: all of the above,
rest of my two-month solo trek across Israel,
and thereafter; a realization which would help
me to recover from my devastating divorce.
That view was spectacular not only as a vista;
and not only as it made tangible the results
remarkable as it offered a completely different
perspective on the scenery I’d passed through
only hours and days before. I had been
constantly heading north: this offered one view
of the hills and valleys, sky and rocks and trees The trek on Shvil Yisrael, the Israel Trail, was for
and distant mountains. Then, there at the top
of Maale Amram, I looked south, and it was like
gazing on a new landscape; it could have been
a completely different hike.
That’s what gave me pause. Sometimes we
have to stop; turn around; and look how far
we’ve come. Sometimes we ought to put our
baggage aside and re-evaluate. Reconsider
our assumptions; reassess our goals and
approaches to whatever challenges we’re
facing; look at things from another angle.
And I also recall thinking – Amram? Shlomo?
Wait: Mt. Amram is named for the father of
Moses, Aaron and Miriam – those desert
Judean Desert Crossroads
wanderers and prophets and leaders of my
ancient people. Mt. Shlomo is named for King
Solomon, the wise and just king who built
the first Temple of the Lord in Jerusalem over
3000 years ago! These aren’t just random
names given to mountains; these are stated
acknowledgments of our ancient connection
to this Land, in recognition of the actual
presence of these historical figures in these or
similar hills.
When you walk through the expanse of the
Negev, wander through the Judean desert, or
make the ascent to Jerusalem, you’re walking
in the footsteps of our ancestors, along the
same paths they may have tread, or similar
routes to those of Moses, David, Isaiah, and,
of course, Jesus. It is this connection with our
forebears and our heritage which makes every
step in the Land of Israel extraordinary, for
Jews and Christians alike.
me a sort of song of joy, to use the language
of the Psalm; of thanksgiving, of celebration
for the wonders of being alive, and for the
miracle of my people returning to our ancestral
homeland. The book My Israel Trail is my
ongoing paean to the experience. If or when
you travel to Israel, I highly recommend it,
whether for an hour or a day or a week. Let me
know if you choose to walk a bit through the
Promised Land; I’d be delighted to welcome
you, and perhaps to join you to sing together
this song of wonder.
Aryeh Green is author of My Israel Trail: Finding
Peace in the Promised Land (myisraeltrail.com),
business leader and public activist. Write to him at
aryeh.green@gmail.com.
Flowers in Nachal Maor