I’ve tried repeatedly to pause the experience – I mean the human experience – I recently gained after stepping out of the context of massacre, killing, and the daily humiliation of Palestinians in Gaza. I haven’t dared to pose new questions, so as not to leave my senses to the details that could render me dead or insane. The last time I bid farewell to my family and home, my feet clung to its floor, and my flesh stretched into its soil, like a fearful and forsaken tree. For my feet know that walking this time to foreign countries is not a luxury, and that returning to gaze into my mother’s eye…