Some people may be wondering why I haven't written for a while. Some may remember me as the angry, depressed, no-holds-barred columnist who felt compelled to write the livid truth as I saw it during and following the Disengagement. Israel has not improved much since the post-Disengagement days. We still have the same ol' corrupt politicians and stupid, unjust policies. We still have rockets falling on Sderot. We still have talks of dead-end peace plans.


But maybe I have improved.


For the past year, once I allowed myself a year of mourning over Gush Katif, I have

I've finally begun to focus on the good here in Israel.

become - how shall I say? - happy. I don't let things get to me anymore. Maybe I'm becoming one of those apathetic Israelis I always used to rag on in my columns. Or maybe I have finally found myself here in Israel, socially and professionally, and can examine the problems of this country with emotional stability and calm clarity. Maybe I've finally accepted with equanimity the grim realities facing us, and I find peace in attempting to improve them in my own, private way, realizing it will take time. Or maybe I've finally begun to focus on the good here in Israel - and there's plenty of it.


My work as a journalist allows me to travel and tour Israel, to see places I've never seen: ranches up north, kibbutzim in the south, world-class restaurants in Tel Aviv, goat farms in the Jerusalem hills. The creativity in this country is incredible. It surrounds you everywhere you go. While Israel has its fair share of jerks, on the whole, the people are alive, seeking, searching and loving. We are all in the same rocky boat. We all feel the oppression of a government that doesn't seem to care for the welfare of its citizens, but we hold on. I don't think the next generation will stand for the nonsense facing us. I hope new leaders will emerge to give better direction. The people of Israel deserve better.


And even if this country will go down, as the prophets of doom say it will, I feel so privileged to be a part of it, to be a chronicler of this great Jewish enterprise, to witness the growth of the third Jewish commonwealth. I wake up with joy and excitement. And, I hate to say it, but I feel bad for Jews still living abroad, especially those who are really sincere in their love for Israel. They get so caught up in the money making, the comfort seeking, the status searching that they miss the one thing that makes life interesting and meaningful: living your passion, walking your talk, realizing your dreams.


It's hard, believe me. It took me about seven years to finally feel like I've made it here. Seven years of internal, intellectual revolutions. Seven years of some hardship, heartache and a lot of pain. Seven years of bouncing around from job to job, relationship to relationship, city to city. Seven years of rolling up a hill only to fall down, and getting up again. But now that I look back, I don't feel the pain anymore. I don't see the suffering. It was the price I paid for living my dream and it is paying off. Nothing good comes easy.


I am not a salesperson. I hate selling things I don't believe in. But I'm telling you all: if Israel is in your heart, then come here. Come live here. Don't come because we need you, but because you need us. Feel the pain, but feel the joy, too. Live a life of meaning, of history, of glory. Are you lazy? Are you worried that you can't find a job? Are you too comfortable? Do you not believe in Israel deep

Don't come because we need you, but because you need us.

down? Do you prefer the cushy Jewish-American life? If that is the case, then admit it. But don't say Israel is in your heart and remain in chutz la'aretz indefinitely. You'll never live in true peace - and you know it.


As I travel around Israel, I'm sometimes tempted to move somewhere on the barren prairies of southern and northern Israel, but alas, I'm a city girl for now. Yet, there is so much unsettled land awaiting Jews. A peaceful, rich quality of life is available for the taking if people would only take the risk, if they would only stop fearing change. There is so much to see, so much to do, so much to achieve, so much to strive for.


And even when it gets hard here, and the system wears on me, I find satisfaction in knowing that I haven't given up, and that I don't intend to.