When everything goes wrong

I’m sitting in the Bucharest airport and it’s been a whirlwind 2 days.

First of all, i left israel on Yom Hazikaron- we had planned to meet my friend at Har Herzl (the military cemetery) and then to head to the airport

She lost her husband in this terrible war, and last year I promised that every year I would try to come and play for them to bring some comfort to the grieving families with a hole in their heart.

But as we are driving towards Jerusalem, the roads are blocked and we see clouds of terrible smoke rolling over the hills.

We had to cancel our trip to Jerusalem and head straight for the airport.

On a normal day, getting to the airport is about 40 minutes, but this day it was an hour and a half.

As we’re driving, I point out a mall and suggest we stop to find something to eat - the air is crushing and gray with a combination of terrible winds and the smell of fire, everyone’s stressed and snapping at each other and maybe some food will make it better- but as we go to the different stores, they are all closing down for Memorial Day. It felt completely apocalyptic and I suggested to my husband that I cancel my trip, who knows what the next few days are going to look like?

He, the godly man that he is (which I need a o remind myself constantly because man can 15 years of frustration sometimes take a toll), He reminds me that bringing people together is my gift to the world and that in the merit of this holy work, we should all be safe.

We get to the airport and all I can feel is panic, and the nagging feeling that this might have been terrorism.

The woman at the counter then makes me send my carry on under the plane - I usually travel short flights with a carry on suitcase + my violin and it’s rarely an issue, but I do put a bag inside the carry on just in case. This time she makes me take out the bag and send the suitcase. But at least I I have a window seat.

Ok, already off to a frustrating start.

I get to the plane with all these feelings and frustrations and worries, and there’s someone in my seat. She tries to convince me that D is F and I kindly tell her that no, I plan on spending the 2.5 hour flight by the window, thank you very much.

Shouldn’t have been so ambitious.

As soon as I sit, the painful banging on the back of my seat from a whining toddler with a mother who clearly is out of her league, and the screaming of a baby from the seat in front of me.

Along with all that, I apparently didn’t properly close my water, and it spills. all over me.

Breathe,Ariella.

I get to the airport and they have sent me a driver, everything goes smoothly as I arrive at the most beautiful hotel and settle in for a hot bath.

Ahh, delicious.

In the morning, i wake up early and hoarse with a runny nose.

oh lord, really? Is it the stress?

This month is the month of Iyar, which stands for ani hashem rofecha- I am god your healer and I let myself trust that somehow this will all be ok.

I take about 2 hours to reset myself. I do yoga, I journal, I remind myself what I have control over and what I don’t.

And the truth is, I have very little control over anything, so focusing on myself is really all o can do. Breathe, girl.

I run through my set, protecting my voice and taking herbal remedies

I take an hour to wander the streets of Bucharest.

Wow, I wish I had more time here this is gorgeous. I pick up gifts for my family, grateful I am finally in a place that my picky 13 year old will appreciate - Romania is Dracula country, after all.

Back to the hotel to practice and nap and get ready.

Walk to the JCC

Walk into a room that is covered floor to ceiling in Israeli flags. So much joy in this space - we walk up to the beautiful theater where they have set up an led screen and lights.

Wow.

Soundcheck, all good - still hoarse and praying for salvation, I pour packets of honey down my throat.

Concert begins

The electricity blows out the tech

right before I’m supposed to start.

I have a dilemma - do I come out and just play musical games with everyone? Or do I wait for my dramatic entrance that I love so much?

I decide to wait as first all the children come up and sing every song they know and then someone gets up and starts telling jokes.

It takes 20 minutes to figure things out, a small miracle really that the JCC happened to have a low tech mixer downstairs.

I come onstage and my heel falls through the slats of the stage they built.

Oh lord.

I forgo the beautiful shoes I brought and am standing there barefoot, playing and singing, they’re starting to get into it, I’ve got the crowd with me - and about halfway through, my voice just stops working.

Seriously, God?

Ok. I can’t control this. What can I control?

My attitude.

What tools do I have? I can’t sing but I can still speak and play my violin.

I can still share my heart and bring people together.

So I do the rest of the concert to the best of my ability, ending off with Tamid Ohev Oti, all of Bucharest singing and waving Israeli flags with me. The people who didn’t want to join the circle, I hugged them and brought them into my little vibe.

Honestly it was really beautiful, and I reminded them to hang onto community and invest in the relationships with these people in this room.

And at the end of the concert, people came to me and said it was the most amazing experience of their lives.

That they felt so connected to my story and to each other through what I shared.

That I had such a beautiful voice that reached deep inside and touched them.

That they cried and laughed and were so with me throughout.

That I strengthened their connection to their Judaism.

I was honestly blown away because I mean, I quite literally lost my voice.

i don’t know what the message of this story is.

Maybe I’ll update it once I have had a chance to unpack it mentally.

But maybe the message is that when you surrender what you can’t control to God, then it passes through to the people who are there.

I did everything I could, and then I let go.

Maybe that’s the message. That what we think is most powerful is sometimes not the most powerful thing.

It’s been a big journey for me to self acceptance - to accepting where I am with my Judaism, where I am with my body, with my level of violin playing and how much I practice, with my voice and what I have to say.

That I’m limited and flawed and human but that is what makes me powerful - because when I accept that I’m limited, I make space for God to step in for me.

So maybe when things don’t go smoothly, that’s a gift too.

THANK YOU God that the fires are under control and countries all around the world have come to assist in putting out the flames.

I’ll see my beloved husband and family in a few short hours.

Shabbat is coming

And I am so blessed to do this work in the world