She was an angry, tormented soul searching for solace in the dark corners of the world. Until a Hand pulled her from the abyss
OUTPOURING OF THE SOUL Throughout Shira Yehudit’s journey she kept journals into which she poured her questions and pain and wrote poetry
M ishpacha writer Shira Yehudit Djalilmand sits in her home in Tzfat in a room lined with seforim wearing a white beret and a sweater against the autumn chill. She has a long fair English face with round blue eyes and her manner is calm composed even regal.
Seeing her today it’s hard to believe this was once a girl who came to school with half her hair dyed orange and the other half black best known for outrageous behavior and a punk rock wardrobe. For close to 30 years Shira Yehudit was a square peg that her parents and teachers tried to force into a round hole. All it accomplished was to leave her bruised and bleeding and her elders exasperated.
She wasn’t Jewish but her soul thirsted for purpose and meaning. No one in her middle-class British circles could offer it to her or even comprehend the compulsion to search. Like a wild animal trapped in a cage her soul thrashed wildly against the bars until she saw no other solution than to blunt the pain with alcohol drugs even attempts at suicide.
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