The Ehyeh Hotel

“Next!” said the clerk receiving guests at the front desk, but the queue was so long it almost reached the front door. I was the last person and I had been standing in line for a whole hour. I sighed thinking “What? Did every tourist on the planet decide to stay at the Ehyeh Hotel precisely today? This is just the thing I hate about traveling!” 1

When my turn finally came and before I could even open my mouth, the clerk, a lady dressed in a sharp military-look white skirt-suit with her hair pulled back severely into a bun, inquired of me rather haughtily, “Who are YOU?” 2

With dignity, I replied, “My name is Batyah Ovadyah and I have a prepaid reservation.” 3

“I need to see your I.D. first,” she countered dryly.4

Now, I’m a very organized person, and when I travel I always have my passport, secondary I.D., and boarding pass ready at all times. But when I lifted my hand to give her my passport, I was totally baffled to find that although it had been in my hand just a minute ago, not only was it not there. After rummaging in my purse, I couldn’t find it!5

“I’m sorry, but I seem to have lost my passport!” I said sheepishly. “My name is Batyah Ovadyah and …” I continued, but the clerk interrupted me quite abruptly: “batyahovadyah. That is not YOU. That’s just a noise coming from your mouth.” 6

“Listen here, Ms….” I continued, and reading her name tag, “… Gevurah, you have no right to, and there is no reason why you should treat me so rudely! 7

“ ‘Listen here, Ms….’ ”, she repeated imitating me, “Batyaovadyah, this is a very special and exclusive hotel, and we can’t be accepting just anyone as a guest. I do need to see your documents and in fact, our policy is to conduct a background check of each and every one of the persons who want to stay here on arrival.” 8

“I see. Well, I told you my name and I can give you my Social Security Number. If you do a search you will surely find a photo matching my face, n’est ce pas?” said I.9

“Non, Madame. We have rules here. I can’t do a search on just a name and a number. You have no papers. How are you going to prove to me who you really are?”10

At this I felt so terribly distressed to not be able to prove to this woman who I was! Without my government issued passport and other I.D. I was nobody! It’s like I didn’t exist! I felt so angry I was on the verge of tears! 11

However, I managed to pull myself together and barked, “Ok. I have a prepaid reservation and have lost my identification documents. What can I do?”12

“Assuming you’ve lost your documents on site, you should go to Lost and Found”, Ms Gevurah retorted. “Go under that arch and turn left. Enter the descender and press the button.”13

“Thank you” I returned frostily and dragged my baggage in the direction she had indicated, wondering what a “descender” might be. Turning left as instructed I came to what looked like an elevator, the door of which opened automatically. I smiled, muttering, “How high and mighty can you get? Calling a regular old elevator a “descender”! 14

However, I understood the difference once I had entered the carriage. There were no floors going up! I saw only one button, marked “-1 Lost and Found.” So I pressed it and…descended.15

When the descender door opened there was a short hallway that turned left onto another section of hallway that turned right onto another section of hallway that had two branches, one turning right and the other left. I chose the one to the right and continued walking, dragging my baggage behind me. After several more twists and turns I realized I was in a labyrinth. “Wonderful! Just what I need after a long, tiring flight!” I grumbled disgustedly. And since I hadn’t expected this, I hadn’t thought to make any Ariadnic provision for going back to the entrance! So, I just continued walking and dragging my baggage, which for some reason seemed to be getting heavier with each turn I took inside the maze. Finally, I came to a dead end. But lo and behold there was a sign on the wall with letters so small I had to squint to be able to read them.16

“Obviously, you are lost.”17

If I hadn’t been so tired and disgruntled by the whole thing, I might have laughed out loud… Instead, I said hotly, “Yes, I know.” At this, the tiny letters turned into live ants! And they hurried to rearrange themselves into a new message:18

“Pay attention.”19

In stunned silence, I just stood there, staring at the sign intently for a while, but when nothing else happened I decided to inspect the area where I was standing. On the wall to my left was a recessed white button. White on white; one really had to pay attention to find it. This I pressed and the whole wall moved to the right like a sliding door. “They should change the name to The Spooky Hotel!” I thought as I walked up to the white counter where there was another clerk, a kindly-looking old gentleman in a white three-piece suit.20

Reading his name tag, I greeted him, “Hello, Mr. Chesed.”21

“Hello, ma’am. What can I do for you?” he said in a warm, melodious voice with an honestly shining smile that assuaged my angry soul.22

“A rather haughty clerk upstairs called Ms. Gevurah sent me here because although I have a prepaid reservation I have lost all my identification documents. She says I don’t know who I am! So, I was hoping you could help me locate my documents and I would also like to file a complaint.” 23

Never losing his warm smile, he replied, “I see… Please don’t feel upset anymore. Your case is rather common. You see, most people who come here don’t know who they are, even though they may think they do. I am making a note of your complaint right now on this form here and I am sure I will be able to locate your documents, but I will need time to search. In the meanwhile, I suggest you refresh yourself and become acquainted with the levels below. Please take the descender to your right.” 24

His statement puzzled me but I was just not in the mood for an argument concerning whether or not I knew who I was, and then again, contrary to Ms. Gevurah, this gentleman was so polite and treated me in such a kindly manner, I decided to let it go. So grabbing my stuff, I started walking towards the descender, but Mr. Chesed called after me, “You can leave your baggage here. It seems to be quite heavy. I assure you, it will be safe. After all, this is the Lost and Found Department!” he ended, with a good-natured chuckle.25

Leaving my baggage then, I stepped into the descender and once again there was only one button: -2 Frills and Thrills. “That sounds interesting…” I mused as I pressed it. When the door opened I found myself in a white room with a splendidly appointed table that just happened to have a spread of some of my favorite foods! Smoked salmon, spinach salad, polenta… I had a very satisfying meal and then exited left to the restroom where I found a white bathrobe and slippers, towel set, and a dainty white lace nightshift hanging from a peg next to an immaculately clean white shower stall. Naturally, I made good use of the facilities. 26

I then entered the room off to the right where there was a white bed dressed in white sheets with the covers turned invitingly down. I wasn’t surprised, for after all, I did have a prepaid room reservation. I was so tired, I just could not resist. 27

When I awoke there was a clean change of clothes and a brand new pair of stylish but comfortable shoes, everything in white (“What is it with these people that everything has to be white?”), in my exact size. Needless to say, I donned the apparel and as I exited the bedroom, I noticed the table was now decked with my favorite breakfast items. “The reception wasn’t good but the hospitality is five-star!” I said to myself.28

After that delectable little repast I decided to start exploring the Frills and Thrills Level. “There must be a door here somewhere… Yes!” Pressing the button on the wall, I found myself facing another unlabeled door. 29

It opened into a room entirely devoid of living accessories, but as I walked in I immediately felt completely despondent. It was such an unbearable oppressive feeling of defeat and helplessness. There was sobbing and moaning in the air, carried along by strains of mournful music. The place smelled of something I could only label as suicide, if indeed the act can be said to discharge a detectable odor. I couldn’t remain there for more than a couple of minutes and I staggered through trying to catch my breath until I came to another door.30

When I opened it I was immediately assaulted by an atmosphere so thick with anger that it caused a burning sensation on my skin. Oh! What a terrible din of argument and strife, the insults and cussing; the noise of clanging metal and rocking explosions of warfare that assailed my ears! There was such turmoil and anarchy that I groped my way coughing and retching along the smoldering walls until I found the exit. I literally crawled into the next room, as though I had escaped from a building on fire!31

“What is this? What is going on?” I thought with trepidation as I became filled with a sensation of impending doom. My pulse started racing and my chest became constricted. Absolute terror had taken over my mind and body but there was nothing ‘there’; no visible threat! Nevertheless, I couldn’t stop myself from screaming in terror and began scrambling frantically to get out as fast as I could from that horrifying place! 32

I finally found the exit, hurried out, and slammed the door shut as fast as I could, and stood leaning against it panting and sweating. “Now, this is definitely not the vacation I booked!” I was still feeling paranoid and spoke those words out loud not doubting for a second that someone must be hearing and watching, and perhaps even enjoying my antics. “Who ever you are, I need a rest!” It was then that I noticed I was not inside another room of the series but just a regular non-descript, albeit spotlessly white hallway at the end of which was another descender with a button labeled -3 Shops. “Ah! Now we are talking! Thank you!” I uttered aloud. 33

When I opened the door found myself in a milliner’s shop! Imagine that! A milliner’s shop in the 21st century! Of all the silly things! A cheerful chime announced my arrival and presently an elegant mature lady greeted me in a cultured British accent:34

“Hello and welcome to my shoppe! My name is Tyfereth. May I show you some hats?”35

“Eh…well…I… I really don’t know. But since I am already here…”36

“Come right this way, dear. First, won’t you please have some refreshment?”37

I should have known there would be cream tea and scones… but I can assure you, other than the strangeness of it all, Ms.Tyfereth did not show any signs of “madness”. In any case this was a welcome relief after what I had just been through, so I smiled, thanked her, and partook. Thereafter she bade me sit at a dainty vanity table. Yes, it was white. A short while later she returned carrying a tall stack of hat boxes. 38

And so I spent the next half hour trying on hats, but they were not one’s regular everyday hats and I don’t mean they were Easter bonnets, either. The minute the first one touched my head I became aware of the heavy burden of running a household, performing the work of at least five people day after day after day after day… Needless to say, I took it off in a hurry. The second one had the effect of bringing back memories of all the sleepless nights, all the worrying, and all the praying that my brood might “turn out right”. “I never want to go back there!” I thought. After that she had me try on the musician, the translator, the writer, the legal secretary, and the church organist hats. After each one, Ms. Tyfereth would say, “Don’t you think that one is really you?” It all felt so unreal! 39

“No, Ms. Tyfereth. These are not me.” And I continued apologetically “I am truly very grateful that you have taken the time to show me all these nice hats but to tell you the truth, I have this skin condition called seborrheic dermatitis and covering my head makes my scalp itch terribly.”40

So we said ta-ta, and I walked down the hall to the next door.41

This one had a doorbell, which I rang, and a handsome middle-aged gentleman, with a well-groomed moustache and goatee, dressed in a white poet’s shirt and white leather jeans, with a name tag labeled Yesod showed me in to a photographer’s studio! “Oh no!” I wailed in my mind. 42

“Excuse me, Mr. Yesod… but I really would rather not have my picture taken”, I said as politely as I could.43

“Oh, but I am not going to take your picture. There’s no need to do that. You see, every nanosecond of your current life since conception has already been recorded. You are here just to view the proofs which I have selected from the archives and transferred to this disk.”44

“Every nanosecond?” I said, while thinking about my most embarrassing and most intimate moments... my very own ‘crimes and misdemeanors’…45

“Yes, everything that has transpired since the beginning of space/time in this Universe is in the H-files, but don’t worry, we are not here to examine any ‘dirty laundry’, so to speak. Please have a seat.”46

He sat at his desk and I took the chair in front of him which faced a Multi-LCD array covering most of the wall. He inserted the CD into his laptop and dimming the lights slightly, he said “Now, just relax and enjoy the slideshow.” 47

It was all there. Some images, such as the ones where I was inside my mother’s womb, I had never seen, but I did recognize photographs from the family album: my Godmother holding me as a newborn baby, blowing the candles out on my 2nd birthday, playing in the snow at 3, reading out of a children’s book at 5, playing the guitar at 11, riding a moped at 15, playing the organ at 21, standing next to my daughter at 30… Finally, there was a rapid sequence showing how my body and face had transformed over the years. I never did like how I looked and I felt quite alienated from the projected bodies and faces. It wasn’t an enjoyable experience.48

Mr. Yesod turned the lights back up and said, “Well, there you are! That’s you!”49

“I beg to differ, sir.” I replied, and suddenly there came a sound as of a rushing mighty wind and Mr. Yesod along with the entire room disappeared into thin air! I was left behind, standing bewildered before a door labeled ‘Personal fMRTI’. I mumbled, “What now?” 50

Crossing yet another threshold, I walked up to a counter upon which stood a little plaque engraved “Binah” and underneath, “secretary”. A stunning red-headed beauty with green eyes looked up at me and smiled.51

“Hi! You’re just in time for your appointment!” she said cheerfully.52

“ ‘Curiouser and curiouser’ ”, thought I… but since everything so far had been so outlandish, I decided to just go along.53

“Right this way!” she sang, directing me towards a huge machine. “Have you ever undergone an MRI test?” she queried.54

“Yes, once for my liver and once for my right kidney”, I replied.55

She then brought out a little step stool from a nearby closet to help me get up on the machine’s bed, and continued, “I see. Well, what this machine does is a little different. This is a special kind of MRI unit for ‘personal’ use because the results are for your eyes only. The acronym fMRTI stands for Functional Magnetic Resonance Thought Imaging. When I press the button and the bed moves your head inside the machine you will see a monitor in front of you where you will be able to witness your thought processes and draw your own conclusions” she explained pleasantly.56

I nodded in reply.57

Binah pressed a series of buttons on the machine and the bed was pulled slightly inside. As soon as I focused my eyes on the monitor I began witnessing a scene where I was rehashing the annoying interview I had with Ms. Gevurah, but then I heard a noise in the room that sounded like a spoon falling to the floor, and the scene changed to my mother’s kitchen. I was 11 years old and had dropped the spoon with which I had been stirring the polenta. I remembered her berating me for my clumsiness and lack of attention, and that gave rise to a whole bunch of memories of my mother’s scoldings and being a child I could not stand up to her. These led me to recall a frustrating episode in which I lacked the courage to stand up to the woman who lived next door to me when I complained about her mistreating her dog. This made me think of my dog, which died of a heart worm infestation before the vaccine had been invented, which made my thoughts jump to my daughter’s dog that has had all his shots and images of both animals appeared on the monitor. And so it went on for about 10 minutes or so; thoughts coming and going, being interrupted and jumping to something else, going from the past to the future or going around in circles, with all these images appearing on the screen until I heard Binah say it was time to roll me out.58

“That wasn’t bad at all, was it?” said Binah jovially as she helped me down and led me to the exit. I didn’t comment… 59

“I’m sure you’ve had enough for one day and would like to rest”, she added. “Just go to the room at the end of the hall and you will find everything you need.”60

“Thank you, Binah. I could swear you read my mind!” I replied.61

At the end of the hall I entered another room that seemed to be an exact replica of the one on level -1 where I enjoyed the “frills”. Once again I made good use of the facilities and awoke rested and hungry. As I sat down to breakfast, I noticed a small white envelope propped up to the table’s white orchid centerpiece. 62

When I opened the envelope I found a note engraved in gold calligraphy on an illuminated card:63

‘Following breakfast, you are invited to attend a special meeting of the Board of Directors of The Ehyeh Hotel. Mr. Keter, the Owner will pick you up at your door to escort you personally.’64

“And just how will Mr. Keter know when I have finished breakfast?” I wondered, but I decided not waste any time on speculation, as this seemed to be a place where anything was possible!65

Sure enough, as soon as I had eaten, washed, dressed, and reposed, I heard a discrete knock on the door. I opened to find a distinguished-looking gentleman with an engaging smile. I intended to initiate a modern handshake, but he proceeded to “kiss my hand” in the old-fashioned manner!66

“Good evening, Madame. As you have surmised I am indeed Mr. Keter and it is my pleasure to escort you to a Special Meeting of the Hotel’s Board. May I?” and with this he proffered his arm which I willingly accepted.67

Mr. Keter led me to a door at the end of the hallway, which he politely opened for me. The room seemed to be a combination library and corporate board room. It had a cathedral type ceiling and there were full bookcases lining every wall from bottom to top. In the middle of the room there was an old-fashioned conference table surrounded by 10 matching chairs in rich dark mahogany. The tabletop had exquisite parquetry work with mother-of-pearl inlays depicting six-point stars and other intricate geometric designs. Seated at the table were four elegantly dressed gentlemen. Mr. Keter helped me take my seat and then sat at the head of the table.68

“And now I will introduce the Board to our distinguished guest: Our Vice-president, Ms. Chokmah; our Secretary, Ms. Hod; our Treasurer, Mr. Nezach; and our Chief Executive Officer, Mr. Malkuth.” And as he mentioned their names, each one stood up and nodded to me. Likewise, I acknowledged each one. 69

Mr. Keter continued, “As our distinguished guest already knows, I am the Owner of the Hotel, but I am also the President of the Board. Our Agenda for this Special Meeting has three items listed: 1. The loss of our guest’s identification documents. 2. Our guest’s complaint against Ms. Gevurah. 3. A discussion of our guest’s experiences at our Hotel. I shall begin with the second item and then turn to the third one, which as our distinguished guest shall see, will resolve the first issue. Secretary Hod, please address our guest’s complaint against Ms. Gevurah.”70

“My pleasure, Mr. President. The Board acknowledges the complaint and wishes to extend a full apology to our distinguished guest. Ms. Gevurah is a wonderful member of our team but she can be a little rigid sometimes, for that is the nature of Judgment. However, I can assure you that the question she raised at the beginning of your stay is an issue of utmost importance. I would entreat our distinguished guest to wait until after we have fully discussed and understood her experiences, for I am quite sure she will see that Ms. Gevurah was only trying to help her understand who she really is.”71

I really was eager to come to a discussion of my experiences, so to save time I decided to accept the apology.72

Again Mr. Keter spoke, “Having dealt with that issue, it is time to hear of our distinguished guest’s experiences, the conclusions she has reached, and answer any questions she may have. You have the floor, Madame, and you may take as long as you wish.”73

I then recounted my passing through the rooms where I felt despair, anger, and fear, and concluded, “I have experienced these emotions before, but like the rooms I passed through had an entrance, an enclosed space, and an exit, so I came to understand that emotions arise, develop, and come to an end. I spent most of my life depressed until I understood that I had been suppressing my anger and my fear, and they turned to despair within me. I used to only see the worst in everything and believed I was not meant to be happy. I freed myself from this when I understood that I am not my emotions. Emotions come and go but whatever I am remains.”74

Everyone at the table applauded and Mr. Keter said, “Wonderful! Please continue.”75

“After that, I was very surprised to find myself in a quaint milliner’s shop but that visit was enlightening. I understood each hat represented a role and noticed that after I tried each one on Ms. Tyfereth would ask me if it was me. It was not difficult to see that I am not the roles I play.”76

That elicited another round of applause from the Board and I went on: “I felt most embarrassed by Mr. Yesod’s photo studio and indeed I told him that I disliked having my photo taken. But after reassuring me, he showed me a series of images that demonstrated how my body began, grew, and evolved into what it is now. I remember reading somewhere that all the body’s cells are replaced every 7 to 10 years. That means the face and body I have today are not the ones recorded in the H-files 7 years ago. Obviously, when I was younger I had no wrinkles, spider veins or bumps; no gray hair and definitely no cellulite, so I have come to the conclusion that while it is true that I live in this body, I am not my body.”77

My listeners clapped and cheered, so I forged ahead: “The Functional MRTI was quite enlightening. I was able to become aware in slow-motion, as it were, how thoughts arise in my mind and how my attention jumps from one thing to another just by simple association without any rhyme or reason, or just obsessing around a point. My thoughts are never still; they flow like a river, always changing. I noticed that if “I” am able to watch this movement of thought, I am not my thoughts, either.”78

This time the quintet at the table gave me a standing ovation! Then there was a lull and a knock was heard. Ms. Hod went to open the door and in came Ms. Gevurah (smiling instead of scowling), Ms. Tyfereth, Mr. Yesod, Binah, and lastly, Mr. Chesed, who handed me my passport and other identification documents. Then they all took their seats around the conference table.79

I smiled and said, “I am very grateful for everything you have done for me but unfortunately I am still lost. When I arrived at this Hotel, I told Ms. Gevurah my name was Batyah Ovadyah, which is certainly true, but she told me that is not who I am. I thought her very rude, but now I realize she was only telling me the truth, that language is an agreement among people where certain sounds are assigned meanings, but when someone who is not a party in the arrangement listens, they only hear unintelligible noise. Therefore, my name is just a noise that was attached to my body at birth and I am not my name. So if I am not my name, not my emotions, not my roles, not my thoughts, not my body, who am I?”80

Then without warning there was a blinding flash of lightning and a deafening thunderclap and I found myself in a hall of mirrors. I looked into the mirror in front of me and, of course, I saw my own reflection there.81

I then heard a voice like the sound of many waters, saying “Look deeply.” 82

As I looked into the reflection of my eyes the image slowly broadened until I seemed to be floating in space with a breathtaking view of the Universe with all its stars, planets and galaxies expanding to infinity…83

“You are that I am”, said the voice.84

“I am that I am?”, I echoed.85

“Yes, my daughter. The Universe is a hologrAM.”86