Tel Aviv Rooftop

Yehuda Halevy Street erev Yom Kippur After losing someone close, it's hard to know when and how to return to 'normal'. Is it right, after only a week of mourning, when the loss is still keenly felt, to return to pleasures like listening to music, or exercise, or writing a blog? In the orthodox Jewish tradition the mourning period continues for an entire year. In secular western culture you are expected to return to work the day after the funeral. In any event, the 'normality' one returns can never be the same as that which existed before the loss. In my case, I know that the person I lost, would have wanted me and everyone who loved her, to continue living their lives to the fullest, as she always tried to live hers. And so, on Yom Kippur , I took to the streets to re-experience the surreal pleasure of a city without cars. Although other cities in the world hold an annual carless day, there is no city in the world that can match Tel Aviv (and other Israeli cities) ...

Yom Kippur. Pedestrians and other non-pollutants control the street for one blessed day. Among the customs of this time, it is common to seek reconciliation with people you may have wronged during the course of the year. The Talmud maintains that Yom Kippur atones only for sins between man and God. To atone for sins against another person, you must first seek reconciliation with that person, righting the wrongs you committed against them if possible. So, if I've been unkind, unthoughtful or downright nasty to anyone out there during the past year, I'm sorry. OK? This time last year I broke my arm (after falling off my bike) and was stuck at home with my arm in a sling. To pass the time I wrote a sort of diary. Here's an excerpt on Yom Kippur. “The streets are noiseless except for the occasional yelping of ecstatic children on wheels who suddenly have full control of the main road (and it’s completely safe!). The quiet is so quiet that it creates a new audio-landscape: t...