Maybe one day I’ll get it…

November 13, 2013

Ah, writing…

heaven and hell, vision and blindness, rantings and truth. What will it be today?

I am on the edge of change, tomorrow I will move again, from this room, this place. It is time. Can’t quite explain it but I know it to be right. I’m not sure what awaits me but I know in some strange way that leaving this place now is right.


What have I not told you lately? Many things, of little or more interest I guess. Who cares? Says that editor in my mind. Ah well at least, if I am the only one looking back at this down the road, it will allow me to see if my assertions were right or pure bullshit.

Tidbits? Lately, last week more precisely, my phone was stolen out of my room. I had not been locking my door. Trusting. Last Tuesday I had cleaned up my room, vacuumed everything, put the few objects I own in their proper place and left, taking the laptop to work on the book, (yes I have resumed that project) 4 hours later I came back. My door was wide open. I leave it unlocked but never wide open. I had a bad feeling. I walked in, I felt a bad energy but did not notice anything wrong. It is later, just before going to bed that I noticed that the phone was not where I had left it. I looked everywhere and there isn’t many wheres to look into and it definitely was gone.

I got a huge feeling of loss. I was distraught. This phone had been a gift from my love at the time. I really liked it. I could not use it as a phone here but it was useful in all sorts of ways, for recording, as a dictionary, as a place where all my contacts were, as many more things a smart phone can do. But now it’s gone.

The next day I told people and they were not believing that someone would have come inside and took this, I must have misplaced it. I sure wish I did.

Fast forward 5 days later, I get a message on my FB music page. Someone has my memory, all the photos that were on there… Someone in Iran… In Maku… Wild. Really? I wrote back. Then next thing I know, they keep insisting to get my email address, and now they are asking for money, and even asking that I go meet them in Iran. Ha! Ha! Ha! Really?

Then I wrote back. I said multiple times what they did was against the laws of men and God. What they did would have made them lose a hand in some not so distant past. I told them that by buying the stolen memory from his “friend” that it makes him part of the crime. I told them I had nothing. I have no money to give them and I’m certainly not going to Iran to get a phone from strangers who want money from me. I told them I wish their black hearts would see some sort of light. I told them I would not write back. If I lost the phone, then it was the will of God and so be it. I let it go. They on the other hand are stuck with their Karma.


and as a side topic, if you read this and are one of my friends in Canada or America, please send me your phone number in a personal message because I have lost your number. I cannot find any backup anywhere.

Other than that, Oh yes, change, I was talking about change. I am moving tomorrow. A little while ago Chillout had offered me a volunteer position in exchange for a free bed. I mulled it over for a while, and decided to take the offer. This room I have is expensive in Turkish terms. I am not really making any money. If I can save the 700 lira a month for a few months, then I can make some plans for the new year.

Yes, Go somewhere else. I am thinking of trying to organize a tour in Europe, nothing fancy, but something that would connect me to all the awesome people I have met who come from Spain, France, Germany… I will start working on that. Contacting them, see if I can line up home concerts or small venues. I don’t know when I’ll go, or if I can even manage that. But I’ll try. The other thing I am considering is India it keeps coming up on the radar. I heard of someone who was able to live there for a year on about a thousand dollars.


Settling down?

I can’t see it. Not for now anyways.

I am at an interesting junction. I am now looking at my coming here to Turkey, the motivation I had, the dreams, the vision. In Canada and America all the Turks I met were amazing. I had fallen in love with the music, the culture, the baglama, I played for endless hours everyday. I felt this immense affinity for the country. Then I came here and somehow all of this affinity didn’t really find anything to hold on to. I mean, I love Istanbul but it seems I cannot connect with the people. I am a yabanci, a foreigner and I stay a foreigner. I am on the receiving end of beautiful moments, days, acts but I cannot seem to learn the language, I cannot practice it as people are either switching to English and not giving me a chance or simply get annoyed by my bad Turkish and dismiss me as dumb or something.


I cannot connect with the musicians it seems. I think it is part cultural part paralysis on my part. Culturally I am a woman and men here have a hard time being with women and vice-versa. The paralysis? I can’t explain it. But in short, I feel unworthy and deeply ignorant and I have this terror of exposing this to the world to see. So I tried to study alone at home in a method and what I am doing now is not music, it’s a lame plucking of black dots on a page, without heart or meaning or soul. I lost the thread of this instrument I loved so and I stand in the darkened forest of my misunderstandings.

So I question. Endlessly. Yesterday a friend brought up a good point: To be here or anywhere for that matter, and be happy, I have to be me no matter what. Being me here now is a difficult proposition, especially when I can’t even communicate. Have I failed? It is a very hard thing for me to consider. As much as I have enjoyed this amazing place, it seems I have failed to reach or even approach one if any goal I had coming here. There is a distance I cannot seem to be able to breach. Yes, yes, yes, there has been some personal victories that have made everything worth the efforts. I do not regret. Not at all. It is just that I don’t know what I can possibly consider becoming by staying here. I had thoughts about going out of Istanbul and see what else I could find and I promise myself to travel in the spring and see the actual country. But after the dust is starting to settle, from the excitement, from the newness, I am maybe starting to see that I need to realign with the path that was mine.


I am starting to see a little bit beyond my own delusions. I am seeing that a part of me has been trying to fit in. That never works. I am seeing a bit of the veil that distend and discolors what truly lies behind it. I am afraid and I don’t want to be seen a failure so I hang on to the concepts and the whys I came here. So I have to dig deeper, rip the veil and try to see what it is that truly is my path. It is hard to recognize the illusions from the truth sometimes.


I started to work on the book again, it was a thought that I followed through not quite seeing why I would do such a thing right now. It is shaking me deeply. To go back to 2010, where this all started. To see my progression. To read my thoughts, feel my feelings. To relive all of what brought me eventually here with all the distance that there now is. I cannot dismiss all this.

I have to own up everything I am. Honor it. I mean to myself. Not as a public thing, but as an inner personal thing. I have to keep moving on the way I believe is my way. My function in this world, what will make me useful, what will give my existence meaning is unique to me. It will appear in the way that I will perceive as acceptable. Which is very likely not the same way it would appear to another. All of us have different paths to their function in this world.


So, I am moving out, opening myself again to change. reducing my footprint. Simplifying. I am glad I can help at Chillout. I will finish the book, self publish it. I will prepare this tour, look at India. I am even thinking of South America. On my bike. I really don’t know yet. but opening that way will help me see.

I have to abandon all the wishing and get into the doing. Be willing to surrender attachment. I have to say no when I feel no. I have to say “bullshit” when I see it. I have to act as if nothing matters, because nothing does but one thing: Friendship. I see it more and more, what matters most is the friends. They are what life is about. And if I can be lifted enough out of my own belly button to share my love, my little light with all my brothers and sisters I meet on the road then yeah, who cares? I am on the path.


Yesterday I went to the cafe, I saw “my dog” I went to pet him. He loves it, he’s so content. I left him and went to sit at the cafe around the corner. My friend Sarah showed up, we were chatting, then comes running my beautiful dog. He stopped at our table as if he came just for me, I talked to him. He then laid down at our feet, I petted him some more. My gorgeous dog, free like the wind. It made me so happy. I was just beaming. We left, he left, all of us free. I think this is what it’s all about. It’s so simple. No ties, no expectations, no rules. Just the light in the other’s eyes.



4 Responses to “Maybe one day I’ll get it…”

  1. Danielle Liard Says:

    Wish I could sit and talk with you. Culture shock is never easy, and when you are dealing with mind-sets that are so different from what you have known all your life, either you submerge yourself and become a poor copy of what surrounds you, or you refuse to succumb to what you consider unacceptable and move on. I don’t think you could be happy with the first option. I don’t know about India, you will encounter another culture that also has some weird notions about women, although maybe not quite so blatant. I live in an area of town that has many people from India, and they are quite diverse. But I have also worked with some from there who had similar attitudes to those where you are now. I couldn’t tell you where each person comes from specifically.

    I’ll send you my number.

    Take care, I love you.

    Your number 1 fan.

    Danielle 🙂

  2. I will certainly send you my info again, Danielle. I would say that some of your words here were potentially heartbreaking – except for the the fact that I actually found them much more inspiring than the former. I believe that the time I was blessed to spend with you taught me enough about you to have comfort in the fact that you are the warrior I have come to know you to be. I am very proud of you. And I certainly wouldn’t worry about how you might “look” to others. People will always look like “something” to some people no matter how you live your life – be it good or bad. You are DANIELLE HEBERT, DOGGONE IT!! God bless you and keep you, D!!

    Seraphim Forrest

  3. Ah my friends, how I love you ❤

  4. David Walker Says:

    Sorry about your phone and what you actually lost with it. Bad Karma abounds, especially in Iran these days I think. Anyway, not that it will be of use but my number is 604-812-5108. You are soo on the mark with friends and times of communion with them, we have had some. I try to live by this ‘there are no ordinary moments’ and the belief that things or moments of beauty are instances in which the divinity in existance is at least partially knowable. Love, david

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