thoughts

Three kinds of thoughts enter my mind.
My mind is the water – ready to accept in all its fluidity.
Some thoughts are like salt; they enter the mind and they melt in it.
Some thoughts feel like the earth; they enter the mind, yet refuse to melt. Together with the waters of the mind, they create mud, mingling with the mind. Some are like the thirsty earth of dry summer days of khamseeny weather of Haifa, drinking in the water with insatiable thirst.

And then there are thoughts of oil. These are the strange thoughts that the mind just cannot accept, for they are made of a foreign material. Foreign to the mind. These thoughts remain separate from the mind, refusing to intermingle with anything of familiarity. Like the dark, homemade olive oil we bring from the village by the gallons every year. It tastes thick and it's the best olive oil on earth, but it feels foreign in the city; it just does not belong there. People are always amazed at its dark, rich color. And like this olive oil, the thoughts that are most foreign to the mind are the purest ones – the ones that are the most natural...