I am plagued by a certain mental malaise every time I return from a trip to Israel.
I feel run-down, depleted, out of sorts.
It’s not the usual back-from-vacation-I-wish-I-wasn’t-at-work sluggishness. It’s different. It’s deeper and harder to shake off.
Israel leaves an aftertaste that is a combination of fatigue, nostalgia, emptiness and expectation.
(Top: Purim Parade – Holon; Middle: Shabbat dinner – Hadera; Bottom: My sister’s wedding – Haifa)