In Between Days

Today's the big day. In only a few hours, I return to university. It's been a long break. Today's June 5. I was last in class on March 27. That's a long time. 70 days to be exact. 10 weeks. The omer and then some. Longer than the amount of time until I will next be in the US. Wow.
Ok, you get the idea. So now I'm back in school. And I'm taking an astounding one class. And maybe I'll officially sign up for a second one. Unclear. I guess my plan to not have work and school conflict didn't work out so well. Because now I feel like I have nothing to do with myself.
I could immerse myself in independent study. Or spend my times at the chava, doing tefilla prep until I've covered every possible scenario on Seminar that could possibly arise. Or I could do what I did yesterday. Watch crappy movies and TV shows for 12 hours. Break for crossword puzzles.
But enough about me. Lately the only things on my mind have been job opportunities and women. But my blog always talks about those things. So here's a new topic.
40 years of occupation. We are in the midst of the 40th anniversary in the Gregorian calendar of the Six-Day War. And no topic really raises greater questions about my own Zionism than this. Last week I attended an event called "Ad She'Tifkach et Eineha," which called on Israelis to open their eyes to the problems of the occupation. This followed two days I spent in the Golan, one of my favorite places in this country, despite my political discomfort there. Then, two days ago, I went to Har Herzl, spoke to my students about Mike Levin, and then proceeded to the Tayelet to view the incredible view that is Occupation.
Let's just say it was pretty whirlwind, and it raised a lot of questions. I love the Golan. I support a two-state solution. I wish to see a unified (and I don't mean Israel-occupied; I mean unified) Jerusalem. You know, one where people from the East and West interact as equals. Where religious and secular, English, French, Arabic and Hebrew speakers recognize that they are compatriots. Something very different from what Jerusalem is now. And I go to Har Herzl and I'm filled with the mixed emotion of pride for what my friend and so many others have done and the pain of loss, the desire to see the wars end. Some people go to Har Herzl and swear that these soldiers fought for the Israel we have now, and we'd be disrespecting their memory by giving any of it. I obviously don't feel that way. But I don't feel the opposite either. I really believe that everyone buried at Har Herzl died because they believed they were protecting Eretz Yisrael and Am Yisrael, not out of a desire to oppress Palestinians. But did they perhaps accomplish that as well? Probably.
So what does that leave me? I do not believe that every implication of the Six-Day War has been a bad one. So where do we go? As a commenter in the previous post wrote, I am a typical liberal. Maybe, maybe not. I'd like to think I'm not such a typical liberal. But I'll tell you one thing I do know. Everybody's right. And everybody's wrong.