Meeting a Palestinian Lover in the Holy Lands...


When I was in Egypt, I met someone. It was brief. We met at a little store that sold herbal medicines from Arabia, among other magical things. I introduced myself, because I felt something. I think it was his eyes.

We went snorkelling on our first date, and spent the night making music at one of his friend’s homes. That was an incredible evening. Im a singer, and I’ve jammed with a lot of musicians. But never with Arabic musicians. From the instruments to the vocals, I felt like I’d been transported back to ancient Arabia… it was amazing. The woman who was hosting us that night turned out to be a Priestess sister, I felt Isis in her.

It was this man, that drew me to Israel. He was Hebrew, and just visiting Egypt for a short time.

{ This is Part 3 in a series, read part 1 here + part 2 here }

And so, after he'd left, and it was my time to depart Egypt, I decided to make my way to Jerusalem, and then on to Tel-Aviv, where he lived. Previously, I’d had no plans to go to Israel, but of course, this is how things go. Especially when you listen. Though it was a man that took me to the Holy Lands, I feel it was a much more ancient man underneath it all, pulling me there… Jeshua.

The morning I left Egypt, I packed all my things in my backpack, and hailed a cab to the Israeli border. The cab ride was 3 hours and allowed me to see even more of the arid mountainous landscape of Egypt’s Sinai region.

Once I crossed the border on foot, and took a bus to Jerusalem, I felt like I’d, yet again, entered into another world. It was hard to believe Egypt and Israel shared a border. The culture, the dress, the buildings, were all so different from what I'd just left.

On that bus ride, I’d had some funny feelings. And within a day or so, I understood what they were about. My Hebrew lover told me he realized he was still in love with his ex-girlfriend.

The man I’d crossed a border to see, was out of the picture. And there I was in Israel.
Ok. Perfect.
Good thing it’s magical as fuck.

So I started exploring on my own, in typical Beth fashion.

My first day in Jerusalem, I headed straight for the old city, one of the most enchanting and rich places I’d ever been.

The old city is where Jeshua and Mary Magdalene had walked through, many a time, as well as Mother Mary, and much of their family. The frequency of the place is intense. There is a potent sacred energy, as well as the messiness and shadow that comes from major religions and governments fighting for thousands of years, over a piece of land.

As I wound my way through the small streets, I passed many a shop.

It was in front of one of these shops, that sold Persian carpets, handmade scarves and beautiful fabrics, that I was stopped by a man. He was Palestinian, attractive, and fluent in English. The moment he found out I was travelling alone (most people come in groups, especially most young women) - he was insistent I let him take me out, to show me the old city.

He promised me he could show me things other people couldn’t… his family had owned shops in the old city for generations, he explained.

I told him maybe.

I still had the other guy on my mind, and he was clearly asking me out on a date. It’s not my style to get over someone by being with someone else. I like to take a week, a month, and sometimes even years if Im being honest, to clear my old feelings, before I feel ready to open up again.

And I usually say no to anyone I meet on the street, who asks me on a date.

But I wanted to be polite, and he was charismatic, so I said - maybe.

He made sure we got each other on Facebook so we could communicate.

After winding through a few more narrow streets, once I left him at his shop, I felt tired.

I sat down, and started chatting with a friend on my phone. I explained what had just happened, and through talking to her, I realized… “Im alone in Jerusalem. An attractive man whose spent his whole life here, just asked me on a date to show me things no one else could. My other alternative is to spend the night with white people at a hostel, and maybe go to a bar." (Sorry white people, I love you, I am you, but you know where Im coming from… When in Rome!) So… I decided to say yes.

I messaged the charming stranger, and he was so excited I'd agreed. He told me to meet him at a gate of the old city, when he closed the shop.

Later that night, when I went to go meet him, I was a bit nervous. But when I saw him, I felt more comfortable. He was interesting. Kind. And he had a lot of stories.

He guided me through the dark Arabian streets, most of the shops closed for the night, and up to a set of stairs, with a gate at the top. It turns out, he was taking me up to the old wall, the one that encompasses the city. Strictly off limits to tourists. Except me, apparently.

We climbed up the wall, and once at the top, I had the most amazing view of both the old city of Jerusalem, and the new. We walked around, to a beautiful spot, and my new friend to become lover, rolled a joint, and we smoked it, overlooking all of the magic. He told me about his family, about Palestine, about the hardships he’d faced, the triumphs he’d had, and lost, and about the history of Jerusalem. I was spellbound by his intelligence. His interest in things that actually mattered, like human rights, and taking care of his family.

From that night, we spent a lot of time together.

When I wasn’t with this new love, I was exploring more of Jerusalem, and it’s ancient churches. Most notably, the main Christian church, that is said to be built on the land where Jesus was crucified, and holds the apparent slab of stone, that he was laid on to rest, and arose from.

Honestly, my intuition told me none of that was true. I etherically felt another place where Jesus was crucified. When I saw the stone, that everyone was coming up to, touching, weeping at, going crazy over, my first thought was - that’s not it.

Jeshua is so sacred. I feel that. His legacy is incredible. I work with him all the time, I love him.

But I didn’t feel much of him in that cold, grey, imposing old church.

I felt control. I felt a lack of sunlight, nature, and oxygen.

And I felt a lot of people giving their power away, to a figure they were told was way above them. I felt that if Jesus was in the building, physically, he would have told the crowds to start worshipping their own damn hearts.

After that rich few days in Jerusalem, it was time to leave for Tel-Aviv. I didn’t really want to, but my accommodation had already been booked.

Tel-Aviv is a big city, with sky scrapers, and a much more modern culture. Even though Im a millennial, and was now surrounded by a music scene, hip restaurants, and shopping, I longed for the old quarters of Jerusalem.

And so I spent most of my time there in the old town, by the sea. I walked an hour everyday from my apartment to be there, and kept myself in the frequency of the ancients. My lover came to visit me while there, driving several hours just to see me for a short time. He could never spend the night - always having to return home to a strict Muslim house, where he lived, taking care of his mother.

He helped me on my healing journey with men. He drove all the way to see me, while being broke, and wouldn’t let me chip in for gas. It was a far departure from what I’d been used to.

And of course... Jeshua. I felt him. Holding frequency of the Sacred Masculine, burying his way into my life, and into my heart, in a whole new way - a far cry for the Jesus I had known in my traditional Christian upbringing.

But after not so long, it was time to say goodbye. The holy lands had ignited me. I knew I would return. But Mary Magdalene was calling me, from the shores of Southern France, and I knew I had to go…

…To be continued.