RUDE AWAKENING

     My childhood was a very ecstatic time. Our neighborhood in the suburbs of Boston, in the early fifties just after WWII was on the edge a large wooded area complete with streams, sand dunes, and a large reservoir of water, an abandoned cranberry bog (perfect for ice skating in winter), wildflowers, blueberries, a lookout rock high on a hill and small animals and birds galore. 

     I was part of a group of children who came from the other families that would play and frolic in this idyllic place. From about 6 years old to 12 we were together constantly running, jumping, wrestling, laughing, making up our own games, finding "jumping trees" (trees who's branches would swing down to the ground and then spring back up with one of us hanging on for the ride), Sometimes we made believe we were horses running and whinnying, sometimes we took sides for cops and robbers, we played sports, baseball, football and rode our bicycles miles and miles each day.
    There was no consideration of time or place, only the joy of playing. No social or political considerations. No worries about money or what would people think. We didn't care. We were totally intoxicated in each other's association. We knew what the other was thinking without them having to say anything. It was such great fun. I couldn't imagine this ever ending.

     I couldn't really share with my father, mother or brother what I was experiencing during the day with my friends  At home the mood was completely different. Everything was very clean, neat and in order. It was as if there were a script and I could only speak or act according to predetermined guidelines with very sharp disapproval if I strayed from those boundaries. I really only came home to eat and sleep. I was gone from early morning until dark. My parents would often show disapproval for my associating with these children, but evidently they had nothing else for association to offer me at the time and they certainly couldn't expect me to just sit in the house all day. 

     Outside forces began to appear, my body was changing. No longer a nonsexual being, to a young woman was very bewildering. How to continue with the ecstasy of childhood with this body which was very different and seemed foreign to me.
     At the same time, my parents along with the other Jewish families built a large Jewish synagogue at the end of our street. On Saturday morning my family would dress up and parade to the Temple past the houses of my friends.
     My play friends were all Catholic. I used to go with them for confession on Saturday before the big Jewish temple was built. Of course I didn't go into the booth, but I would sit in the pews and wait for them. I was curious what it was and asked one time, "What do you confess?"
     My friend said, "My sins."
     I asked, "What sins?"
     She said, "Things like, I used a bad word, or I was mean to my brother."
     For a Jew there was never any mention of sin.
     I was hearing more and more now about how the neighbors were not like us. They were Goya not to be brought into friendships. Respected but slightly mocked as somehow less. And I imagine my friends were also hearing negative things about the Jews and their big temple ruining the neighborhood.
     One day my friends surrounded me and beat me. They seemed to hate me so much they could kill me. It was a great shock. And a rude awakening. Where did the blissful loving spontaneous joy of childhood go?
     I know such joy exists because I experienced it. Why was I separated from it and forced into situations where people who previously loved each other now hated each other, focused on differences based on religion, on the body?
     What is the problem? How could I ever be happy if I didn't find the answer and the path back to Shangri-La.