Chapter 3: Get Up & Go

Charlene was all about moving forward. Never backward. If ever a human being epitomized the Israeli philosophy of “Kadima”, “Forward” it was her. Interestingly, this was one of the very few hebrew words she picked up here in Israel because often her trainer would say “kadima, kadima” when her horse was a little “behind the leg”. 

This wasn’t just a character trait of Charlene’s. It was a defining aspect of her personality. Because many of her attributes and qualities had to work together as one to give her this superpower. But it was even more than a defining aspect of her personality. 

This quality was integral to her soul, because the soul comes to earth to tell its story. And this quality made it possible for her to live her storybook life. It allowed her to move forward through her very hard and traumatic childhood, and her romantic relationships, always growing and never dwelling on the past or becoming negative. To move up north by herself and start over. To get involved with me and convert to Judaism. To come full circle with me in our relationship. To take up dressage after jumping for many years. To make Aliya, moving to Israel. And everything we and she did here since coming to Israel.  

She placed a sign on our front door in Raanana, Israel that says “Life isn't about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself”. 

“Finding yourself” implies looking backward. Searching for your embedded “true” self that’s been waiting to be uncovered, like an archaeological relic. Constantly reflecting and rethinking one’s self and history for that elusive narrative that will click and make everything crystallize. Not moving forward and growing, but living in the past. Living without a clear direction. Maybe blundering onto a satisfying path eventually, most likely not. 

“Creating yourself” is a whole different thing. It implies forging your path forward with direction, based on a clear vision of who you want to be. Consciously and intentionally living and refining yourself in the present, while learning from your past, and focusing on your future. Not looking back with regret or self-doubt. Looking forward with confidence and enthusiasm. 

Charlene created herself and lived exactly the way she wanted to. She did not live in the past, but squarely in the present, with her eyes to the future. Yes, she always learned and gained wisdom from her past experiences, good and bad, and from her, (and my) mistakes. But she extracted the lesson, integrated the experience into her consciousness, and then she let it go. 

Letting go was the secret to her ability to move forward, create herself, and remain positive. Not allowing negative feelings or thoughts to gain traction. This letting go of the past was also one of the sources of her ability to learn and pick up new things quickly and successfully. 

The Israelites had to remain in the desert for forty years as punishment because the spies had said they weren’t strong enough to conquer Canaan, demonstrating that the nation still lived with their slave mentality and fear. They needed forty years for the generation of slaves to die out and for a new generation of free men to arise. But what if the spies had never said that? Would the Israelites have entered the Promised Land immediately? There was so much the Israelites had to learn about living in the land and being a cohesive nation with all of the new Torah laws and lifestyle that they hadn’t learned yet. It was all brand new for them. When would they have learned it and become a nation if they didn’t have the years in the desert?

The answer is if they had not been living in the past, with fear and negativity, with a slave mentality, but rather they had let go of the past, and were living free, with confidence and optimism, with positivity and love, they would have been able to learn everything quickly, on the fly. Just like Charlene was able to do. She was able to learn and grow because she wasn’t hung up on limiting beliefs, or pre-conceived notions, from a past that she was clinging onto.  

For example, before we made Aliya, Charlene and I had been organizing and catering as volunteers, a very large, (300+ person), professional level Kiddush every Shabbat in New York. (Some wonderful friends of Charlene’s used to come every Shabbat morning to help us with the event set up. I used to refer to them as the Real Housewives of KBY, the name of the shul in Monsey that we attended, although they were nothing like the TV characters, they were all super sweet, drama-free, caring, kind and fun-loving). 

We had the Kiddush down to a science. By the time we left New York the shul had set up a professional catering kitchen for us to work with, and the event looked like a wedding.

After we made Aliya, I wanted to re-start the Kiddush in Israel, at our shul in Raanana. And do it right, because that’s the way Charlene and I rolled. The way we had done it before, where it looked like an expensive, professionally catered event, with proper serving dishes and presentation. 

But we had very little infrastructure or resources. In fact, we didn’t have any; no sink, no kitchen, no shelves for storage even. And although we would be preparing for 200+ people, the budget proposed was tiny, around 600NIS per Kiddush, which was $150-$200 USD at the time. 

She didn’t panic when I started describing to the shul committee the extent of what I was proposing. She had confidence in us and our abilities and knew we would break the problem down and figure it out together.

But the shul committee didn’t know us and were very skeptical that we could accomplish what I laid out. As Charlene saw the meeting going sideways, she started talking. Without pride in her abilities, without embellishment or ego of any kind, she simply described the salads, and the fish and fruit platters she was going to make, all the different ingredients, how the dishes would taste, how they would look. Mouths started watering and eyes bulged in their sockets, they were dumbfounded. 

They still doubted we could pull it off. But Charlene had so excited them with the picture she painted, and intrigued them with her professional-level culinary and catering ability, obvious to them just from listening to her speak, that they certainly wanted to see and eat for themselves.   

And then Charlene planned the Kiddush, walking through the whole setup. As we were visualizing, Charlene told me all the logistical things she would need handled in order to make it happen, while I wrote them down. And one by one we solved those problems. For example, we refused to use disposable serving trays but we didn’t have a sink to wash our serving dishes. So we decided to set up a washing station on a folding table. I bought two large tubs and a hose with a sink adapter, and we filled the tubs up every Shabbat from the bathroom sink. And yes, we installed shelving for storage as you see in the picture. Charlene made it work.

She didn’t get overwhelmed or fearful, saying I can’t work like this. She didn’t think it was impossible. She open-mindedly said let’s see how we can make this happen and she made it happen. And although it was very different from the Kiddush that we had done before, because it was in Israel with no kitchen and no sink and super low budget, it was awesome just the same. And had the same effect as the Kiddush in New York.

She had the emotional strength and discipline of a Kabbalistic master, (way before we took up studying Kabbalah together later on). I suspect Charlene developed this power as an eight year old child when she was forced to care for her three younger siblings. She was conscientious, loving and kind, with a fierce warrior’s will to succeed, so she took care of them as if she was their mother. Feeding them, bathing them, watching them, putting them to bed. Sometimes all day when there wasn’t school or one of them wasn’t going to school.

It was a lot of responsibility, and as their eight year old sibling she had no authority over them. To obtain their cooperation and the successful results she needed, (because she was very practical and results oriented), she had to carefully manage her behavior and emotions and provide steady direction. I believe this was the crucible in which her supernatural emotional strength and discipline was forged.

She did not ignore, minimize, discount, or distort her emotions in any way. Quite the opposite. Her heart was always open and big and she felt her emotions very powerfully and deeply. But she was super emotionally intelligent and self-aware. And she had the very powerful ability to fully understand and process her emotions and then act intentionally, rather than reacting emotionally and unconsciously. 

Unless some irritating stranger would piss her off, in which case she’d let loose, sometimes a little over the top. Like when an old man in the parking lot at Dunkin Donuts in Monsey didn’t like how she parked. He was coming into the store as Charlene was leaving and the kids had just walked out in front of her. He blocked her way out, getting between her and her babies, (a very, very bad idea), while he complained loudly to her and at her. She very seriously told him to get out of her way or she’d knock him down and break his hip. He got out of her way so quickly he almost broke his own hip.

Her traumatic childhood was also the source of some other, less positive traits. She avoided breaking rules to the extreme point that she would ask if something was allowed even if there was no reason to think otherwise and no sign posted. She was so afraid of judgment for breaking a rule that even the way she phrased her questions was begging for a no. Like if she had 11 items in the grocery store, she would ask the cashier in the 10 item or less aisle “I’m not allowed to check out with 11 items, right?” And obviously the cashier said right. 

Sometimes I would point out the negative language to her and ask why she wouldn’t at least phrase it in a way that would make it easier for her to get a yes. Like, “I have just one extra item and there’s nobody on line. It’s not a problem to check out with you quickly right?”

And it’s ironic because whenever she would hear me say something to someone that came out wrong, something I meant constructively and it just came out harsh or negative, she would tell me “baby you can say anything to anybody, it’s just how you say it that’s important”. And yet she didn’t take her own advice in these situations because she wanted to avoid even the slightest risk of being called out.  

I believe this fear also came from her early years caring for her siblings as a little girl herself, being thrust into a grown up world. Having to navigate very stressful, adult situations and minefields that she didn’t fully understand at the time. And worrying about getting in trouble, earning disapproval and experiencing chaos. The chance of “getting in trouble” or being judged, or condemned for breaking a rule brought out that vulnerable, little girl in her that she never fully grew out of. 

When it came to rules though, I was the exact opposite. Most rules I didn’t even know existed, so little did I take notice of them. And the ones I noticed I generally broke. This was part of her attraction to me. She knew her vulnerability and weakness in this aspect and appreciated my strength. And relied on it often. 

Although my extreme aversion for rules of any kind, was clearly way too much of a good thing for her. When my rule breaking or ignoring caused “a scene” she would be so horrified, she seemed physically pained and would look around desperately for an exit to get out of the “hot zone”.

But she was loyal and fierce and would never abandon me or anyone else she loved or cared about. 

When we first started dating, she moved from Morristown to Randolph in New Jersey and her ex-landlord from Morristown, who she had dated once or twice became a stalker of hers. Basically everyone she dated became a stalker for a while after she dumped them and I don’t blame them, I totally get it, she was the best thing that had ever happened to them. (I used to call him the Bouncing Czech, because he was originally from Czechoslovakia and at that time he had a habit of popping up a lot). He came around to her new place in Randolph while she and I were walking outside and started trouble with us. 

She started running because he owned guns and implied he had one on him. I didn’t run because I was young and stupid and it felt un-masculine to run from some guy that had dated her and was now stalking her. When she saw I wasn’t running with her she stopped and came back, round-house kicked the Bouncing Czech in the face, knocking him down to give us some time, (she could kick most guy's asses especially mine), and physically grabbed me by the hand and pulled me to start running. We ran back to her apartment and called the cops who arrested him.

She was such an attractive mix of vulnerability and strength, so feminine soft and warrior strong at the same time.   

Her supernatural emotional strength and ability to let go of the past was also a prerequisite to my ability to return to the Garden. When I finally started my journey to return, around 2010, it allowed her to encourage and welcome me back with open arms every new step that I took. Not acting defensively or focusing on her immense hurt or my guilt from the past. But rather being open and focused on the positive, that we were one step closer to her goal. 

Because her goal was to get her man back, the man she originally fell in love with and married. And to return to the deep and fully connected relationship that we originally had. And so every step I took in that direction was humbly and gratefully encouraged without focusing on negatives like why I hadn’t done this or that before, or why I hadn’t done it in years. Or how much I had hurt her. 

For example, for many years after Charlene’s conversion, through the kids’ early years, she would tell me to “plug in” more. Because I was emotionally disconnected I had no idea what she was talking about and told her so. At the beginning of my return, and after much happened to start breaking my shell, including the real estate crash that had wiped me out, I wrote her a long letter, expressing my gratitude and love to her, and regret that I had been emotionally uninvolved for so long. And I pledged to be more connected. 

This wasn’t even action on my part, just a stated intent, after many years, a decade of neglect. And she responded with gratitude and encouragement, instead of cynicism, skepticism, bitterness, or negativity of any kind. And she treasured the letter for years after.  

And although my journey back to the Garden took a lot of work on my part, her letting go of the past and forward-focused attitude, with the consistent positivity and clear feedback she provided, made it much easier for me to find my way home.

Her constant positivity, never falling into negativity was my guiding light, always shining, and always true. Like the north star that ships used for navigation, she was my east star, the direction of the rising sun, the direction we pray towards, the direction of the Temple. The direction of love and connection to her and the Creator. 

I was able to navigate my way back through her light because Charlene’s one goal was deeper connection and happiness, and her feedback was so encouraging, positive, and consistent, she made the path clear. Charlene had become the compass in my emotional and spiritual worlds. And if that wasn’t a big enough role for her to play in my life, as time went on I took it a giant step further. 

In the Kabbalistic Sefirot based conceptual system that I customized for personal use, and started living according to, everything I see when I open my eyes is all part of my “kingdom”, my “Malchut”. And it’s my job to bring God down into my kingdom, making it His kingdom. This process reunites God with His Divine Presence, His feminine component, which has been in exile since the Temple destruction. Repenting and returning is all about reuniting God with His Divine Presence.

In the same way that the Divine Presence, (our national spirit), is God’s feminine component and His queen, my wife is the queen of my kingdom, and its crown and glory. And because my kingdom was God’s kingdom, Charlene was now the representative physical manifestation, the “crown”, of God’s Kingdom on earth, as far as I was concerned.

And the way God communicated with me. If Charlene was happy with me and at peace and fulfilled, my kingdom, God’s Kingdom, and its glory, was at peace. I knew my Father, the King was happy with His son, Prince Shalom, and my universe was balanced. And if my queen, Charlene, was unhappy, then God’s Kingdom was in turmoil and I had to do something quick before divine displeasure would manifest in the Kingdom in one way or another. 

I may seem star-struck and I am. And I’ve basically just described eventually seeing my perfect Charlene as a demi-god.  And I did and do. I’m in awe at the strength and beauty of her character and actions. Humbled by the majesty of her spirit. Mesmerized by her physical beauty and grace. I was her fan, like a groupie, desperate for her attention, and I couldn’t believe she was all mine. 

You might think this extreme worshipful attitude would create a power imbalance or one-sidedness in our relationship. But it was the opposite. Because another one of Charlene’s defining personality traits was her humility. 

This humility was also very integral to her always moving forward. Moving forward requires releasing the past and making space for growth. Arrogance and ego keeps one frozen in their identity, making it impossible to grow and change.

Charlene could have rested on her many achievements and identity, and not grown or changed. But she didn’t focus on her past achievements or identity. She focused on what she could become and she worked towards that.

But where Charlene's humility really shined its full power was in her interactions with the people around her. She easily could have used any single one of her amazing gifts and abilities to define herself and make her feel superior to others.

Her physical beauty; her looks, her figure, her unique, multi-colored eyes, green, blue, hazel, yellow, sometimes glowing like a tiger’s, her poise, her gracefulness, her modeling.

Her athletic ability; high school all-state track star and cheerleader, water-skier, ice skater, and any other sport she tried. Her equine ability and world-class knowledge; jumpers national competitor and award winner, horse trainer and breeder, dressage competitor and award winner.

Her all-around skills; her legendary party planning and executing, catering, gardening, cooking, (many times in restaurants she would list off to me every ingredient in the dish we were eating), home designing and decorating, face painting, balloon making, cake decorating, and so much more. Her friends in Monsey called her the Jewish Martha Stewart.

Her charm and personality; ability to talk and connect with anyone, her extensive good relationships, I could go on and on but my level of fandom is making even me uncomfortable.       

But she didn’t define herself in any of these ways to herself or to anybody else. To herself she was just a super loving, and devoted wife, mother, and horse rider. (I’d like to think in that order, but I know motherhood came first in her identity). To her family in Florida she was just a wonderful sister and daughter, always loving and there for them in any way she could be. To her friends, she was just a kind, caring, and giving friend. 

And to me she was just the girl that loved me with all her heart and soul and wanted me to love her the same way. And this is the wholesome and pure way we related to, and loved each other. No calculation, no measurement, no agenda.

Oh she knew well how I worshipped her. And that I would die and even kill for her. She relished it. It made her feel powerfully feminine. And just plain powerful. She loved that she had tamed me and would say “hey baby I need to unleash the pitbull” in situations where she needed a tough protector or defender. 

But she never took advantage of or leveraged my worship. And it never “puffed her up”, as she would call it. While I was as infatuated as a teenage boy, (she was 6.5 years older than me and it always bothered her when I would joke that we first met when she was my babysitter), she was just as infatuated. 

She too was my humble fan, endlessly grateful and shocked that I was hers. She appreciated my unique qualities as much as I appreciated hers, and believed in me more than I believed in myself. I came to Israel with the idea of starting a retail tech business here. I had never been in the retail or tech business before, nor did I speak hebrew or ever even do business in Israel. Just writing it now seems crazy. And yet, she came with me to a place we had no contacts or family, giving up the beautiful life we built and the security we had in New York, because she believed I’d pull it off.

She loved my wild stories and business exploits, of what I had accomplished in both of my previous careers, real estate development and solar PV development. And how nobody she knew could have pulled those things off. She believed I could accomplish anything I set my mind to. 

Whenever she would hear Elon Musk talking she would say how he reminds her of me. How he’s an out of the box, original thinker and visionary, who has created his own methodology and conceptual system for seeing and acting in the world. She looked at me and saw the same character, the same type of intellect and ability, and expected my company to explode with success imminently. 

When I would rightly point out to Charlene that Elon Musk was worth a half a trillion dollars and had built from scratch and was actively running five of the most advanced and sophisticated companies in the world, all at the same time, while I was still working on getting one company off the ground, she would say that business results are in God’s hands. And the difference between us was just the hands we were dealt and different circumstances that can and will change, rather than anything qualitative. Her only concession to the reality of the difference between us was that okay, maybe I needed to work on my execution a little more.     

This appreciation we had for each other’s unique qualities, “superfan”, all-in belief, and gratitude that we had for each other to the point of disbelief in how fortunate we were, is why there was a magnetism to our connection that radiated off us in a way that anyone around us could feel. The way we would look at each other, totally focused on one another. The way I was always touching her, holding her, I couldn’t keep my hands off her.

I was always holding her hand; driving in the car, walking in the street, in the mall. In restaurants we would take a four-seat table and sit on the same side so we could be touching legs. In bed we would fall asleep with my hand encircling her wrist like a handcuff, chaining her to me. Staking my ownership. 

This past Friday night as I was walking home from shul I was meditating on the almost full moon as I tend to do when the moon is this size. I was looking intently at God through the smiling man in the moon when I suddenly realized it was not a man I was looking through. It was a woman. My woman. And I started to talk spicily to her like I would sometimes do.

Charlene was extremely modest and would always get embarrassed and blush when I would do it. And tell me to stop. But it was a fun way for me to mark my territory, and get a rise out of her, so I’d keep going a little before stopping. And as I was doing it now, the moon seemed to blush and Charlene was telling me to stop but I kept going just a little bit longer, talking to the Creator through her. When I suddenly realized that I was now comfortable talking spicily to the Creator!   

When we were first dating I had told Charlene, half jokingly, that I was a tiger in a past life and she was the British raj hunter (like the Jumanji dude) that killed me. As with all of my jokes I was half serious. Growing up in my parents’ house, I had a giant close-up picture of a tiger on my bedroom wall directly across from my bed. For years, the first thing I saw in the morning when waking up were the glowing eyes of that tiger.

I identified very deeply with that tiger. It’s beautiful strength and ferocity. And its solitude. But looking back, I see that the tiger was carrying a cub in its mouth. It was a female and a mother, not a male. All those years I hadn’t been looking into my own eyes, I had been looking into the beautiful eyes of my mate. And she was looking back into mine. And we weren’t alone. We had each other.

She wasn’t the hunter that killed me, she was the mate that slew me. By taming me, and turning me into her housecat. And bringing me in from the jungle to her Garden. I thought I owned her. In reality she owned me.