October 24, 2017


October saw me everywhere it seems. From Vancouver, Richmond, Montreal, Calixa, Amsterdam, Istanbul, to Ayvalik to Cunda…

I found some photos I had misplaced in the heart of some folders.  photos of some of the friends I visited only a few weeks ago, which now seems like an eternity ago. It was only 22 days ago. 18 if I count back from the day I left.

It’s night now. In the village it’s really quiet, a cat had something to say a little while ago but he somehow is not discussing anymore.

I am doing a translation these days, English to French, a whole novel, the dragon novel. I am getting into a flow. It is intense work. I have tried to divide my day between long walks (8 to 16 km) with a visit to the sea and the translation duties. Now I find the days vanish incredibly fast, time, time, time, how you play with us.

The rain season is on the way, maybe that will make it simpler, no temptation to the sea side. I don’t have rain gear so the focus will be clear, the choice being simple.

Today out there up on the hill among the trees, I sat and didn’t move. I was on a trail up above Cunda, overlooking the sea and islands below, just a little ways past an ancient, abandoned monastery.  I sat there and tried to just be like the trees around me. They can’t run, find excuses and disappear. They are where they are and they stay there no matter what. I tried to imagine what it would be like to not be emotional about heat or cold.  How it would be to let the wind move you however it wanted to at any moment.



I noticed that on the same tree, some leaves move while others don’t, then it changes around. It is like an exchange, a conversation.  I noticed the incredible grace of the limbs being moved by that wind. Olive trees have an incredible grace.  I felt the sun on my back, I felt it’s movement as it peered from the treetops behind me. Imagine being a tree and feeling that sunshine coursing above, then feeling the night stars and the moon doing the same, just being there and seeing it all.  Feeling the clouds, the rain, the storms, the whole year circle around you as your roots deep in the earth hold you upwards.

Suddenly 4 or 5 dried leaves started to twirl, like a dance. Their dried bodies making a kind of maracas sound when they touched the ground in their dance. They made circles around like unruly children. Then stopped. Immediately looking dark and dead. A trick.

Sitting there, I wondered about life, about love, about getting old, about dreams and adventures, wondering if all these individualities could stand together on one team and cover each other’s backs. My hair is graying fast now, all its shyness about doing so, gone. (it seem to be doing it covertly for years until now) But it also started to grow strong again. Seems contradictory. But then I could never quite grasp all there is to grasp about our human existences, too caught up in swirls of moving energies to see the whole picture.

A few days ago the silence made me think for a moment that I was deaf. Up in there, when the wind stands still you might think that, until a bird sings. I had been craving silence in Istanbul. Maybe not silence as such but the absence of …car sounds, motorcycle engine revving stupidly, the Aygas jingle, television dramas out of a neighboring window, airplanes above, groups of gloating young man, car stereos at top volume, the neighbor’s lute practice, barking dogs, howling cats, screeching seagulls, fluting sparrows, full-throated midnight lover’s fights, school song, kids running to and from the school, ezan coming from about 27 mosques at once five times a day, political rallies, screaming neighbors, ambulances, hurdaci, sebzeci, herşeyci…  Oh, but the presence of the wind, the birds and the trees by themselves.

I sat longer. Looking at my hands, feeling the sweat from my climb up here cooling on my back. What am I doing here? Sometimes the foreigness of my presence here is painfully present. Sometimes I can’t put three words of Turkish together and people look at me with their eyebrows in a triangle and a downward one sided slide of one of the corner of the mouth expressing a sort of commiseration, and I feel stupid. I always recall that line from a Robert Redford movie with Mexicans in it: “ I may speak with an accent but I don’t think with one” Urgh, yeah, great quote. Mine is more like… “I may not be able to put three words together but please forgive me, I am really trying but i guess not quite hard enough since after 4 years I still stumble on basic shit so be kind to me anyways, I think…?” I could never pretend to be Redford material.

So when I sit out there in nature, the communication lag disappears. I am just energy along with other energies and the father sun and the mother earth who created us and we all glow out there together in a one breath kind of thing.  I realized recently that the CO2 I put out, the trees take it and the O2 they put out I take it and we should really love each other for it into infinity.

It rains hard now. it’s dark, the wind picked up today and the air turned around telling us the niceties were over. Fall had come with its cold shoulder. I hear it fall. My first Ayvalik rain.




2 Responses to “October”

  1. Erikakw Says:

    The seasons turn to reason with us that there some long lost dreams that we will understand one day. It’s true that the energies swirl about us, in their various forms. I held onto the paper that held your essential oils, the gift you gave yourself. Every once and I while I pick it up and enjoy it’s aroma, and memories or your stay here come flooding in.

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