Looking the devil in the eye - An Ode to Adva

I am not easily impressed. Perhaps this is a part of growing old and grumpy. And I must admit that after being married for 37+ years, I take many things for granted.  But there are times when something causes me to sit up and take notice.

Adva, my wife, is turning 60 this year. Many of us have already crossed this milestone and have the scars to prove it. But Adva isn't one to wallow in self pity. Nor wait in trepidation while counting down the days to this ominous date. Rather, she decided to grab the bull by the balls and look the devil straight in the eye. She would turn an ominous and unstoppable event into an opportunity.

I only knew about her plans to set out on the Magma Challenge to Costa Rica after she had successfully passed all of the tests and had been accepted as a participant. Was I surprised by her decision? Not really. Despite the rugged conditions that she was about to face, I knew that Adva was never one to refuse a challenge. Ever since we left the kibbutz, 25 years ago, she has sought out and faced many challenges, and never retreated from any of them. People can usually think of countless reasons to give up on the challenge of obtaining the things that they desire in life, but Adva is not one to fall back on such excuses, even when competing in a man's world. It was therefore fitting that she set out on her most recent challenge in the company of women - on a rugged adventure trip through the beautiful landscape of Costa Rica. Split up into teams of four, each team commandeered their own Land Cruiser, navigating their way through the challenges that awaited them. And to add icing to the cake, Adva's team was voted the best team by the majority of the participants. A one in a lifetime experience they won't forget.

Adva, in her own modesty, was surprised at the interest her journey ignited among her facebook friends. What she didn't realize was that her journey caught our imagination. For those of us seeking the courage to take back some control over our own lives, her journey is an inspiration.

I've always had an affinity for strong women, ever since my first girlfriend - a self proclaimed feminist - took it upon herself to show me the error of my ways. I imagine that Adva got much of her strength from her mother. Titi was a strong woman, albeit a little scary. There is a rumour that she told me, when Adva first took me to meet her parents, that she had a semi-automatic Uzi under her bed and knew how to use it. I took her seriously, for she was a no nonsense lady and knew how to get what she wanted. In her days in the Palmach, when there was no officer's course for women, Titi simply joined the one for men. No one dared tell her otherwise. And she was a true Sabra: prickly on the outside but soft and sweet on the inside. The key to being strong is also being a good person,

We learn a lot through 37+ years of marriage. We set out thinking what should be, but then continually rediscover what is. Moving in different directions does not necessarily mean drifting apart, but rather redefines our concept of companionship. And the key to companionship is still being able to encourage each other in our endeavours, especially in what is most important to each of us.

In reaching 61 this year, I said to myself, "Been there, done that, what's the point?" But then I realized that it was all up to me. Either I become my worst enemy or my best friend. And I have Adva to thank for inspiring me to realize that we still have journeys before us and wonders to explore.

When I find myself fading

"When I find myself fading, I close my eyes and realize my friends are my energy." 
~ anonymous

I have many things to complain about, but I also have many more to be thankful for. I have been blessed with true friends. Friends who help carry me forward during the toughest of times, just by knowing that they are there.

It is said that you can count your true friends on one hand. I find this to be true for me. Even in the age of Facebook, where we have friendship lists that often measure in the hundreds, sometimes even in the thousands. And even I have a friendship list of 644. How does this adhere to my concept of friends? 

I think it was Thomas Moore who once said: "I have many acquaintances, but very few friends." - a distinction which Facebook once completely ignored, serving to belittle relationships rather than mirror reality. Until one day when Facebook decided to make amends, allowing us to differentiate between friends, close friends and acquaintances. And by doing so, our Facebook access to our closer friends increased considerably.

"Don't walk in front of me, I may not follow. Don't walk behind me, I may not lead. Just walk beside me and be my friend." 
~ anonymous

What defines a true friend? Is there some secret formula? True friends do not have agendas. If they did, we'd all be in trouble. For a true friend knows many of our darkest secrets. They are our confessor, but do not carry judgement. They could write our explosive biography, but would do so only with our permission, before or after we die. 

“The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life. Rarely do members of one family grow up under the same roof.” 
~ Richard Bach

I come from a small Canadian family, and try to return each year during the holiday season to visit my mother, sister, and two close friends. These two friends are family also, for although we grew up under different roofs, we also shared each other's homes. And despite the distance and years that passed without seeing each other, each time we meet, we carry on as if no time has passed since we saw each other last. For our respect and joy in each other's lives surpasses all else.

I know that many families become increasingly dysfunctional over time, something that is magnified especially during holiday season. Maybe my family is too small to be dysfunctional, or I am not in Canada enough days of the year, but we seem to get on quite well. Not only that, but each visit is of great importance to all of us.

With family, as with friends, I have been extremely fortunate. And not just with my Canadian family, but with my Israeli family as well. My Israeli family consists of my Israeli born wife and three children (all born in Israel on a kibbutz), and my in-laws. I know that many people (perhaps most), don't get on well with their in-laws. But, despite my coming from a different background, language and culture, I was accepted with open arms by Adva's parents. My test wasn't the baggage that I brought with me, but how I treated their daughter. Which I was made well aware of when my mother-in-law casually informed me that she kept an Uzi sub-machine gun under her bed and knew how to use it (she had been an officer in the Palmach and not someone to mess around with). Fortunately she never found reason to use it, or thought that Adva could do worse. I have always gotten on well with my brother and sisters-in-law also. My brother-in-law hosts family and extended family each major holiday at his house on the kibbutz. Nothing dysfunctional there, either, unless you count my slipping out after the dinner festivities to check my email at my father-in-law's house.

Family and friends cannot really be measured in numbers, defined by blood relations, or categorized by time and place. They are the people who touch our inner core, for whom we would fly across continents, make our way up from the desert by train to Molly Blooms, meet for coffee or wine after a hard day's work, or join in extended noisy family holiday celebrations. In many ways my life has turned upside down, but friends and family stay with me, and keep me from fading away.