The Child Inside

I don’t know what caused exactly to feel like this, but I started to believe that something is dying inside me. It is not something, in fact, it is my “Child Inside”!

Everybody is familiar with the concept of the “child inside” and the happiness, liveliness, vividness it produces. For all my life I believed that this so-called “child” slowly dies as people grow up. But I was determined not to lose that child of mine. Surprisingly (or expectedly), I happened to realize that it was not the easiest thing to do. Because, life brings more responsibilities and obstacles with higher level of endurances as it progresses. Trying to cope with all these, somehow your child becomes neglected. ‘Cause it needs to be fed constantly with childish vivacity, joy and recklessness. However, with the increasing responsibilities it becomes impossible to keep those kinda feelings in your system. Therefore, you give up and agonizingly watch this child’s diminishing.

At first, I was strongly in denial of neglection of my child. I could never have behaved like that! I could never leave it unnourished or never let it feel unheeded. As soon as I realized the situation is about to worsen, I decided to do something for it. I had to grab my life from where I missed and return to the state where I was living happily with my child. But I couldn’t. I may never have tried hard enough, or maybe it was really challenging to leave all the commitments at hand. So I reluctantly let it go and watched the death slowly each passing day.

It is the rule of life; maybe (who knows) I need a very real, a very own child of mine after all. Maybe the time for taking care of myself by the help of a little child inside has gone forever. Now I’ve “finally” grown up and been one of those who “kills” his child inside.

I’ve given up questioning a while ago. Now I am not sure whether I stilll need to search for a child inside and try to save it, or not bother at all. Anyway, I guess it’s time to grab my beloved book “Mi Planta de Naranja Lima” once again and read it all over. If that doesn’t bring out and save the child, nothing’s ever will...

ref. Mi Planta de Naranja Lima - by José Mauro de Vasconcelos

Mercurial Weather and The Perfect Cure

The weather is quite mercurial today. Yesterday it rained a lot. Even now, little drops of rain are falling down occasionally. But, it seems as if it's gonna shine brightly in case the clouds make way.

The air is dense, lighting is dim, ambience is depressing...

I don't think my soul is any different from the weather nowadays...

But, I finally found the perfect cure for the ill mood of today: "Kings of Convenience"!

Cayman Islands, Know How, I Don't Know What I Can Save You From, Little Kids and finally Manhattan Skyline...

Soothing, comforting and relieving...

Not Ready

A man was walking home one evening when a stranger approached him and inquired about the location of a certain street. The man pointed out to the stranger and provided specific instructions. After readily understanding and accepting the instructions, the stranger began to walk in the opposite direction. The man said "You're headed in the wrong direction!". The stranger replied "Yes, I know. But, I'm not quite ready yet."

Pause

Pause!

A symbol with two vertical lines side to side...

Just push the button with that symbol, and your whole life pauses.

Everything around seizes its endless movement.

All the people stay still, all plans disappear for a moment, all worries fade away.

What a fantastic idea!

I desperately need that pause for the time being.

I want everything that bothers me to remain still for a certain duration...

...So that I would leave all aside; grab a pillow, a soft blanket and fit in the tiniest bed, curl up and doze off quietly.

That's all I desire now, just a little bit of silence, a serene feeling of muteness, a deep sleep...

But, in the end, it's a pause anyway; it's all gonna resume when I press the button once again...

Low

In times when you feel low:

Nothing really makes you happy;
The classical mottos like "Carpe Diem", "Live for the Moment" etc. do not work at all;
Your otherwise bright future suddenly seems to be in a big black haze;
A sad song like Robin Hackett's "Hard Left" expresses your mood most conveniently;
Even your loved ones' comfort does not make you feel relieved;
And repeating the known phrase "Everything's gonna be alright!" turns into a cliché...

But I guess, there's one thing to make you hold on to real life:
It is the belief to a certain destiny.
Your destiny that determines your way ahead, controlling even the smallest detail...
No matter what you do or how much you worry about the consequences.
The idea of a greater power somehow comforts you showing that some things are out of your control... And you did your best...

The Wings of Dreaming

I hate dreaming!

Although it is "supposed" to be an entertaining and nice activity, it brings about harsh consequences in the end. I know, because I have experienced enough of that.

Dreaming gives you a pair of wings. Wings that make you fly and take you as high as you desire. But, eventually, what is to follow is a sudden free fall, like an apple from a tree. However, the damage comes not only as bruising, as in the case of the apple, but also in dissappointment and depression as well.

That makes me remember the story of Ikaros, the son of the talented craftsman Daedalos. Daedalos, designs two pairs of wings made up of bird feathers attached with wax, both for himself and his son. Together they intend to fly and escape from Crete, where they were imprisoned. Before the journey, Daedalos reminds his son of the danger: he should not fly very high and get very close to the sun, since that melts the wax and the feathers could drift apart. His son promises to be careful. But, once he flew over the blue sea and glid in the bright sky, he wants to reach much higher. Unfortunately, as he rises in the sky, Ikaros's wings fall apart and he crashes right down to the Aeagean Sea and dies instantly.

That is not the same story, but it always reminds me of the case of dreaming. So tragic, and so real... Trying to reach a higher goal that is not possible, is something that's triggered by dreaming. I know I'm being too pessimistic about the whole case of dreaming. But, I would be lying if I say that I believe that "a person is nothing without his dreams" saying...

Maybe that's a phase that'll pass soon. But, for the time being I still hate dreaming!

Icarus & Daedalus

by Frederic Leighton, 1st Baron Leighton

ca 1869

Why Me?

Arthur Ashe, the legendary Wimbledon player was dying of AIDS which he got due to infected blood he received during a heart surgery in 1983. From world over, he received letters from his fans, one of which conveyed: "Why does God have to select you for such a bad disease?"

To this Arthur Ashe replied: In the world, over 50 million children start playing tennis, 5 million learn to play tennis, 500.000 of them learn professional tennis, 50.000 come to the circuit, 5.000 reach the grand slam, 50 reach Wimbledon, 4 to semi-finals, 2 to the finals. When I was holding the championship cup I never asked God "Why me?"... And today in pain I should not be asking God "Why me?"

Happiness makes someone nice; success makes glorious...

Hardships make tough; sorrow makes mature...

Defeat makes someone humble...

So, why say "God, why me?"

What is to happen, happens anyway...

So Close and Far Away

How surprisingly exciting life becomes when you realize the chances of a drastic change are so close and far away at the same instant...

Thankful For Breathing

An recent unexpected loss that I have been informed of has affected me a great deal. I get myself to thinking that how often I get tangled up with the daily problems of life. These kind of losses tell people to perk up and realize how important it is even to be able to breathe. Sometimes we take our lives for granted and live recklessly. I guess, a single moment is to be spared to thank for the miracle of being alive...

Simple Life...

The video on the attached link is made up of 10.000 photographs without a single use of a video recorder. It displays the four seasons of İstanbul in the most splendid and natural way.

The video fascinated me in the way it shows life’s true simplicity. Life, in fact, consists of rising suns, descending moons, howling winds or falling snow flakes... It is us, the mankind, that add the alternating bright lights, the ever-travelling cars and boats, the crowd of the cities onto that perfect pureness... Other than those it is just a new day following the other.

A simple life it is...

http://www.ersineser.us/

Best of Wishes

With the approach of the date of my birthday, a version of  an ordinary question occupied my mind. Starting from “What should I wish from my coming age?”, I ended up with others like: “What is really to be wished for?” or “What is the best of all wishes?”...

What should really be wished for in our lives? Health? Success? Money? Love? I guess the wish of most people is to have peace at the very last moments of the ‘journey’. The soothing sense of satisfaction, the tranquility of feeling no regrets. And any other that means peace for the person...

Going through the last two years of my life, I decided that I had been quite luckier in the things I wished for. Maybe I wished “wisely”, got what I deserved, or just simply been lucky, that’s all. It’s just time to be thankful for all those...

May all wishes come true...

Happy birthday to me... 

A Surprising E-mail

Today I have received two e-mails from two unknown contacts. They included quotes from authors. I could not perceive whether they are spam or not, because they neither contained any links nor any ads. The first one I could not get clearly, but I liked the second one and found worth displaying here. It's quite meaningful considering my general approach towards life. Thanks a lot to Ms. Liz Guevara, who I don't even know, for this nice piece of quote.


"So. The time has come for me to get my kite flying, stretch out in the sun, kick off my shoes, and speak my piece. 'The days of struggle are over,' I should be able to say. 'I can look back now and tell myself I don't have a single regret.' But I do. Many years ago a very wise man named Bernard Baruch took me aside and put his arm around my shoulder. 'Harpo, my boy,' he said, 'I'm going to give you three pieces of advice, three things you should always remember.' My heart jumped and I glowed with expectation. I was going to hear the magic password to a rich, full life from the master himself. 'Yes, sir?' I said. And he told me the three things. I regret that I've forgotten what they were."

Arthur Marx

Feeling Good

There are some songs that you listen to countless times and do not realize their real deeper meaning. But somehow suddenly something strikes you when you discover what the words really mean. It does not necessarily need to be a complex one; it just depends on your mood to discover it.

That happened to me with Nina Simone's "Feeling Good" recently. Though it is quite simple in lyrics, I happened to understand what it tries to tell me.

It is time to cherish every single day of life...

It's a new dawn, a new day, a new life..


"Birds flyin' high you know how I feel
Sun in the sky you know how I feel
Breeze driftin' on by you know how I feel
Its a new dawn, its a new day, its a new life for me
yeah, its a new dawn its a new day its a new life for me ooh
And I'm Feeling Good

Fish in the sea, you know how I feel
River runnin' free you know how I feel
Blossom on the tree you know how I feel
Its a new dawn, its a new day, its a new life for me
And I'm feelin good

Dragonfly out in the sun you know what i mean dont you know
Butterflies all havin' fun you know what I mean
Sleep in peace when day is done that's what I mean
And this old world is a new world and a bold world for me

Stars when you shine you know how I feel
Scent of the pine you know how I feel
Yeah, Freedom is mine, and I know how I feel
Its a new dawn, its a new day, its a new life for me

(Free styling)

Oh I'm Feeling Good."

Nina Simone
Feeling Good

It's Only Words

Just a bunch of little words, with insignificant meanings by themselves...

And, how amazing it is when they come together in a magical order and make you burst into unexpected tears.

Some little words, so simple they seem; but so much more they embrace...

The Persistence of Memory

I don’t actually remember the first time when I saw the painting of Salvador Dalí called “The Persistence of Memory”. What I clearly remember is how I felt when I first heard its name. It wasn’t until then that the painting made sense. Suddenly the melting clocks served their purpose and turned into fascinating objects in my mind.

However, it is quite recent that I comprehended the real meaning of the persistence of memory...

The memory truly and honestly persists... It persists to stay alive in all cases... To stay in flesh and blood just like the days when it was “present time”. The ever lingering memory of the good times completes life itself and makes it purposeful. It is agonizing if some memories should no longer exist in the mind, but they are so precious to erase completely. It becomes much more painful when you cannot actually leave the memory behind, and it only hurts to cling to it from then on.

This is when the real persistence starts. The memory you try to get rid of gets much stronger. It stucks in your head and grasps all veins that are connected to your emotions. As memory tries to stay alive, it corrodes your soul and tortures it with endless greed. The unsteady state between the reminiscence of the memory and the desire of eradication becomes uncontrollable.

In those times, a mere sigh, a twisted smile or a few shiny tears lead you to a simple state of dullness which turns into your firm mood for the day. Then an old photograph, a poster of an old movie or an empty place nearby on the couch keeps recalling all the memories again and again.

At the end of the day what is left to do is to learn...
To learn to live with the aging memories...
To learn to smile, even though crestfallen...

P.S. Dedicated to the memory of M&S...
For their memory will linger forever somewhere deep and precious...

La Persistencia de la Memoria (1931) - Salvador Dalí

A Moveable Feast

Life is a moveable feast...

All the good times and the bad ones change alternatingly in time. Someday the happiness surrounding you is lost and what takes its place is the sorrow...

Occasionally life becomes so ordinary, so flatlined and regular that we think that nothing’s ever gonna change. But what is not to be forgotten is that life has a certain course to go through. Sometimes the course it follows may not seem to be apparent. But, the actual case is all change in time... someway or another... Those changes could even become so fundamental that sometimes nothing actually remains the same forever.

Although this chaotic structure is quite invisible to the naked eye and a blunt mind, on occasions it shows itself as clearly as daylight. Then comes the time when you suddenly discover the hidden truth of this moveable structure. Afterwards, the never-ending inquisition on the meaning of life begins. In the end, you perceive the vulnerability of the human soul against the drastic changes.

Life is a moveable feast, indeed, just like the feasts moving throughout the year from summer to autumn, from winter to spring...

Hemingway had the most brilliant characterisation on the subject matter;

"You expected to be sad in the fall. Part of you died each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their branches were bare against the wind and the cold, wintry light. But you knew there would always be the spring, as you knew the river would flow again after it was frozen. When the cold rains kept on and killed the spring, it was as though a young person had died for no reason."

From
"The People of Seine / A Moveable Feast"

Ernest Hemingway

Lately...

Though many people tell that life is very simple; it becomes surprisingly complicated on certain occasions. Recently I recalled how firmly I decided to change my life utterly for about a year ago. But, now I found out that not much has changed even since. I live in the same city, same apartment, have the same job at the same company. Got the same worries and almost the same joys of life. Then I realised how hard it is to really "change" your life completely and start over. Those times, when you realise you have very little to do, the days tend to pass much slower and the nights become even much heavier.

In that state of mind, followed up a whole week, feeling depressed, I even haven’t been at the spring festival of the university. Nearly to the end of the festival, a surprise appeared out of nowhere and changed my mood for good even in two short days. At the end of these two days I suddenly found out that the grouchy expression lingered for the whole week on my face turned to a big grin and bright eyes. I admit that I have a strong refreshment in my condition. I also believe to have an unexpected restoration in my hopes for better...

An Old Piece of Writing on Life

Here's an old piece of writing on life that dates back to March 3th, 2005. As to keep its genuineness and not to change the sensation it creates, I hereby attach it in its original language.

"Hayat,
Upuzun, engebeli bir toprak yol bana göre...
Üzerinde adım adım ilerlerliyoruz bazen, bazen de parlak ışıkların peşinden koşuyoruz...
Hep yeni kavşaklar ve ayrımlarla karşılaşıyor, faklı hanlarda yeni "yolcu"lar tanıyoruz...
Yalnızlığımızla hüzünlenip gözyaşlarımızla ıslatıyoruz onu...
Ama hep bir şekilde umutlarımızla devam etme gücünü içimizde buluyoruz...
Sonu nereye varır, hangimiz biliyoruz ki?

Ramayana'da şu söz geçer:
'The Hidden Truth Supports Everything; Find It and Win!' (İng. çeviri)

Kim bilir, belki de gerçekten o gizli gerçeği bulan kazanır..."

Beautiful

A short piece of text from the brilliant novel of Toni Morrison called “The Bluest Eye”, which tells fragments of a story mainly from the 40’s of Ohio. The paragraph describes the feelings of three little black girls after their quarrel with a ‘beautiful’ and rich white girl named Maureen Peal ending with her humiliation of the black girls as being ugly.

...We walked quickly at first, and then slower, pausing every now and then to fasten garters, tie shoelaces, scratch, or examine old scars. We were sinking under the wisdom, accuracy, and relevance of Maureen’s last words. If she was cute – and if anything could be believed, she was – then we were not. And what did that mean? We were lesser. Nicer, brighter, but still lesser. Dolls we could destroy, but we could not destroy the honey voices of parents and aunts, the obedience in the eyes of our peers, the slippery light in the eyes of our teachers when they encountered the Maureen Peals of the world. What was the secret? What did we lack? Why was it important? And so what? Guileless without vanity, we were still in love with ourselves then. We felt comfortable in our skins, enjoyed the news that our senses released to us, admired our dirt, cultivated our scars, and could not comprehend this unworthiness. Jealousy we understood and thought natural – a desire to have what somebody else had; but envy was a strange new feeling for us. And all the time we knew that Maureen Peal was not the Enemy and not worthy of such intense hatred. The Thing to fear was the Thing that made her beautiful , and not us...

From
"The Bluest Eye" by
Toni Morrison (Nobel Prize for Literature '93)

Wish I Was a Bird

Blowing through Indian summer night sky
I'd fly straight to nowhere
But I'm grounded down here in the city
With these faces stern and pretty
And in the station where no one says a word

I wish I was a bird

If I listen to somebody speaking
I can only hear waves breaking
Out at the ocean
The wind whips every word

I wish I was a bird


Jesse Harris & The Ferdinandos
from "While The Music Lasts" (2004)