Time capsule letter

Below is a letter I wrote to myself while I was on the Seminar Camp in Israel in August last year. The idea was for our letters to be sent to us one year or so later, which they were, and I received mine this week. Thankyou Eva, for remembering to send it out.

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3 August 2005, Bet Govrin, Israel, 5.00pm

Dear Chris,
Last night there were jackals. Of course there has often, or always, been jackals before last night, every night, for a number of millennia anyway. But last night there began to be jackals for me. Jackals entered my mind, my sphere, with a distant hoot, heard above the growling cello coming through my headphones. Suddenly there I was, contemplating jackals. Contemplating my proximity to jackals. There were jackals last night.

About a week ago it had been the same thing with warplanes. Their roar filled the sky, an echoing boom over the kibbutz. Before that it had been Helene, one of the most gorgeous people who ever did live. Before that there was Eva, whose presence filled everywhere with light.

This camp has also bought new things from within. I know, now, some of my most significant and most dangerous flaws. Before, I might have guessed at them or seen them in miniature, but I may not have held them in my palms like plump, round plums. There they sit now, wet and dark, firm and promising, one in each palm, ready for me to decide what to do with them now. I cannot leave them behind: in many ways they are attached to my skin, they are attached deeper. I must carry them, learn to carry them, to hold them well. I must cherish and admire them, like terrible monsters in a nearby cage. I must learn and understand the howl of a jackal.

I wonder what the next six months will bring, what the next year will bring, what new things will grow from within me or approach from outside? What will a month of focused attention in Cairo do or bring? A month or two of desert solitude? A few weeks in Palestine? Will my heart and head jumble further, get dry, soak and expand, explode completely? Already (it’s been less than a month) I feel better, stronger, more focused, less bored – will this trend continue or will I sink back into post camp ennui? Hopeless sadness? Self doubt?

This night is advancing, we approach the close of camp. We will be spread, soon, smeared again in the CISV Diaspora. The group, unbreakable; broken. And the warplanes will roar and the jackals will howl.

And those I love and those I can no longer live without, they will be in every song, they will be in every wish. They will be the birds and the drums and the gorgeous masts of old ships. Our love can, and our love always will, from this point forward, float on.

I hope you are well & happy & safe.

Chris.