The conception

After my long absence here and a few days sick days in bed, I am writing to etch the pleasant daydreaming I experienced today: I dreamed of a project that could potentially give hope to my countryfellow, the hope for change and for being heard. I am not sure if I should reveal it before realising it, but I could not resist jotting down the extraordinary moment of the conception of the idea that could spark hopes for change in the hearts of my country fellowmen. 

Once a friend said, "In life, you have to make decisions. You have to move. You cannot stay awaiting for good." That is right. But, how difficult is making decisions. I used to think if you could see from too many angles, too many perspectives, then it'll be easier to make a decision. I don't believe it any more. Life decisions to me is fitting on a highly dimensional space with each experience, each memory, each advice, each book, ... as points or dimensions (depending on how deep or general they are). If you can see from too many angles, your space gets larger. You need proper classifiers to draw your boundaries and make a decision. Sometimes, you confidently draw them, but you may get so outliers that you give up and could not decide again. Usually, the outliers belong to the most notorious dimension: emotion - the hardest, most unpredictable dimension to tackle. It could throw every point in and out your boundaries at every moment - leaving you no control. Each point on your life space has a value on that dimension. More sentimental you are, more bounded your data points are with that dimension, thus more suffering you'd have when it comes to making decisions. Sometimes I feel doomed for bearing it heavily on my shoulder. Or, in my philosophical mood, I may seek a reason for that. Or, there may be no reason - just my seudo-random share of life challenges.

When I look at some people sometimes I can see the origin of their suffering. I can see how some people value things that are worthless, or at least having no value to me, like working too hard to buy more things, much more than they need; or, doing things just for show off to please others not themselves. Not always is it obvious. The origin of my suffering is not that obvious to me. Well, that is why I am suffering, because I don't know what it is. Or, I may know - having been told by friends, families, therapist - but tend to ignore it and pretend that I don't know what it is. I know how much we can fool ourselves. No doubt in that. When I am in pain, I ask, "what is in me that brings suffering to me?" I never believed the origin of suffering is from outside. It could augment it but is not the origin. It is here, inside me. Maybe that is why I am interested in Buddhism, encouraging one to look inward instead of wandering outward.

PS: I hope none of my friends who believe I am the happiest person they have ever seen find this note!

PSS: Could there be any title for this post? I always have this problem of starting with one concern and ending with another concern. Surely, they are related but hard to put a title for it.

Follow your heart or your head?

I just came back from my office - it's around midnight. I have so many deadlines, but I was not working. I was reading. Today I've got the first volume of Sandman, a popular comics book. I tried reading it on the bus in the evening, on my way back from home to the office after noticing the absence of my house key in the bag. I could not easily follow the story though. To get familiar with the story line, I looked online to read some reviews. I usually know the story of the books I buy, but this time a good friend with whom I share many interests introduced the author to me, thus I thought I may like the comic series too. I read about Sandman and  also about To kill a Mockingbird, which I'm listening to these days. When I was coming back home, I was so excited, happy, satisfied with my day. I know if I was doing programming, I was just a dead person walking in street. After I got home, a blaming voice came over me: "You should have spent your time on your work. You have a deadline!". "I love reading," another voice replied back. The blaming voice cried, "No, it's childish. You should spend your youth energy on your career until you secure a job. Later you would have time to enjoy doing what you love." The child stubbornly replied, "If there would remain any time for that! If I would be alive by then! What if I die tomorrow, and I wouldn't have read those amazing books? Ha?!" The blaming voice stayed quiet. The child continued, "Do you remember all those inspring speeches and talks we listen to all the time, by all those influential people? Doesn't everyone say we should do what we love to do, not what we are expected to do?" The blaming voice nodded and disappeared. The child murmured, "for God's sake, it was my evening! Why is she so annoying all the time?!" 

It was quite a success. It made me very much suprised. I am very glad my child has got back her corage and voice again. 

Montaigne says, "If I had to live over again, I would live as I have lived." 

What about you? Would you agree?

On life

I must have felt so exhausted today that upon seeing a hearse on street I murmured, "Good for the guy that finished his hard journy." Indeed, how hard is life, even though I pretend to be easy going with it and enjoy it. It felt hard most of my life, most of my parents life, or most of the life of most people I know. The life is hard in nature. There is always something you strive for. If you don't, other people would take control of it, thus facing another kind of suffering, like pets do. You have to survive. You may be burnt by love or by death either of yours or of others you care about. If you don't care about anyone, even yourself, like Bartleby, you have another kind of suffering. None of them means there is no beauty in life, nor its suffering surpasses its beauty. I am just acknowledging the fact that there is intrinsic suffering to the very act of living. 

Sometimes we may seem to strive for more suffering ourselves, e.g. by moving to a more competitive university or work atmosphere, by marrying a challenging guy, or by choosing a life style that is not so relaxing. Perhaps, we perceive such attempts as short-term sufferings in the hope of enjoying a more relaxing life ultimately. Or, we may just follow others, entering the competition of being recognized as the best. No, I do not want to follow others' path anymore. I'm done with it. Very often, I ask myself, "what do I want?" Money is good; prestigue and status are good; beauty and being fashonable are good; looking as the smartest is good; but, none are my ultimate desire. I do not live to just earn money, prestigue, status. I live to gain wisdom, knowledge, understanding about the world, about humanity, about myself. 

It was my birthday, yesterday. I asked, "What would you like to keep doing by next year?" I replied, "Writing my diary, reading books of influencial people, and improving my language skills to read more easily and write more elegantly." Then, I asked, "What would you wish to spend more time on by next year?" I replied, "Writing stories. I love to practice writing much more. I'd like to have a profession as a writer beside my everyday work." I asked, "What life skill would you like to improve by next year?" My answer was, "planning and management"; I'd like to have a more organized mind and life (Happily, I have already started it by reading some interesting books), for I believe my life gets happier, with less suffering.

Happy birthday, by the way!

hooked up with that french man!

I cannot believe... I just thought I am gonna have dinner with Montaigne tonight! It is crazy! I probably thought of going back home and reading his Essays, but suddenly got confused with the idea that I am gonna see him and spend the whole evening with him! I am getting worried... of such an intimacy I am feeling with him. I feel I can share with him all my concerns, all my thoughts, feelings. What was that spontaneous satisfactory smile appearing on my face upon the emergence of that peculiar idea? It felt so real. Perhaps I am very tired after this long scientific meeting and after too many trips. Perhaps I needed a moment to relax, and company of Montaigne, that french man, was what I was wishing for at that moment.

A curious question with a curious "the answer"

"How come is she such a happy person?" a student of my PhD advisor had apparently asked him, after having a few meetings with me about our project. "I gave her the answer, which I now prefer to keep confidential!" my advisor wrote. Such a curious question followed by such a curious statement! "I gave her the answer"! What is the answer?! I hope it was not "Saffron" as my current advisor once speculated, after I told him that we believe eating saffron brings happiness! 

Seriously, "how come am I such a happy person?" Am I?! Assuming that I'm a happy person, one immediate answer would be I am coming from a happy family with a happy witty dad, who has never set aside his humour and hope in the toughest moments of his life, consequently my mom, my brothers, and me have stayed tuned with him too. This might be one answer, but not the all. I make efforts everyday to stay happy. I do not go to work until I manage to cheer myself up somehow; it might be taking a different path to work, having a tranquil walk, dressing up, polishing my nails - anything that makes me feel "I matter". I love writing, and I do it every day. I love doing sports, running, swimming, yoga, and the most adventuruous one I have just discovered, Aikido (which truly deserves a special post on the blog!). In my adventurous well-travelled life, I have had the privilage of gaining the friendship of incredible friends with so much love, passion, and courage; I try to catch up with them often to feel refilled. Happiness is a virtue to me. If I achieve the best of the world but don't feel happy and satisfied, I leave it after I try every possible way to improve the situation but I fail - admittedly I'm quite patient with such solution seeking stages because of being hopeful and prudent. 

I have my sad moments too - easily perceived by a glance at my blog posts. For those emergency moments, I ask for help. The first one that I approach is my angel. She is the most dear intimate friend I have in my life. She knows every thing about me, every thing, even those I might have forgotten myself, from the day I'm born to this very moment. She has incridible wisdom about the world, about humanity. Her positive energetic words stay in my head for good. She is extemely supportive and sympathic, especially in those critical moments I need her most. If I am whom I am, for the big part it is for having her, my sagacious angel, Sophie. 

I wonder now if Sophie would be the answer.

A glimpse of death

Today she cried. She cried so much. "It is like a death. The death of your beloved, the death of part of you, part of your heart, part of your past. I can die of so much pain and agony." she cried out, covering her face by her wet hands, bending down on her chair. He had called her today, coldly said, "we have to talk seriously this time". It's clear what seriously means after a year of frustration in their relationship, a year of fights, anger, indifference. "How may I not see him any more?" she cries, "He's part of me! Nine years of my youth." And it's all happening because of her. Because she feels this is whom she wants to be. This is how she wants to live. He does not agree though. He expects her to be another person, another wife, another mom. She feels so guilty of not being able to be the proper wife he wants. Ashamed of not wanting to be a mom now, not behaving like her friends enjoying a kid in their life. "I cannot help it. I have tried so hard. Those years of being together I tried", she sighs, tears falling down her face. She is a miserable woman. She cannot enjoy company of her proper husband, offering her a proper family. She is running away from her stable life - a life that many would envy. She is running to an unknown future, all foggy and unclear. Who is this person? What does she want to do in her life worth leaving her beloved? leaving her stable life, family? She must be an idiot. What if what she is going for is an illusion? Is she really going for an understanding about herself? Or, is she just making it up all? I know how much one can be deceived by her perception of the world, of her self. But, what else do we have in this world? What else may she trust? Poor her.

After having a proper workout in the gym, I had some time to contemplate on her life. I thought of my angel's advice, "Decide out of hope, not out of fear." Then, I thought of what I wrote earlier here, above, on my perception about her and her perception about herself. They were out of fear. You can definitely see traces of love there, you can see true emotion and attachment, but her cry smells like fear. When I asked earlier, "what does she want to do in her life?" I meant her hope. But I didn't wait for her reply, judgementally slapping her at face.

"Let's talk about your hopes, then", I said, trying to have a tune as friendly and nonjudgemental as I could, quite hard though. She shifted her gaze, staring at some unknown point. She looked calm and quiet. I followed her gaze, I couldn't find what she was looking at. Perhaps there was nothing there. She was dreaming, contemplating, thinking about my question. Without turning her gaze, she calmly said, "I hope to find a balance in my life, between emotion and intellect, between my inner child and my adult, between my creativity and analytical thoughts." Then, she looked at me and said, "You know, I'm quite good at both. My inner child and my adult are both alive. If I feed only one, the other one rebels." I interrupted her, "Yeah, moving here was a rebel, wasn't it?". She nodded her head and sighed, "Yes, indeed!" She again stared at that far far point. "What else?" I asked. She gently smiled, "Well, everything else is part of this wish. I feel if I realise this wish, I will have a prosperous life. I will attract a job that satisfies my both sides, where my talent and passion meet. I will attract people like myself with balanced life and attitude. People who can grab my love and my thoughts. People who can feed me with their love and their thoughts." She turned her gaze and look at me. I could see how calm she was. At peace. Well, I am sure she will have more turbulence coming, but she is at rest for the moment at least.

Dance dream

A strange dream has been holding me most of the nights before I fully fall asleep for last few months: I dream of dancing. I dream of opening my arms, first my right hand raises at the front, my right foot steps forward, slightly bending my knees, then I change my hands, the left foot steps at the front. I move, I turn - no space that limits my movements. It is dancing, though it feels so light as if I am flying. Sometimes I sense someone is there, but no one, I'm alone.

I have been trying to ignore the dream (not sure if I should call it a dream, as I am not asleep), but its repetition has made me uncomfortable as if it has a message and needs to be responded. Tonight I decided to confront my fear and dance. Fear? I feel so vulnerable when I dance, my senses strongly get activated, feeling a sensation in my chest, it feels like being in love. I practiced the second DVD of Classic Persian Dance I had ordered more than a year ago, but had not practiced it. I enjoyed it very much. I am really really glad I did it. 

I wonder if the same dream will be awaiting for me tonight again? Or, I might have responded to the message responsively?

The Fiction of Relationship

The fiction of Relationship is a new online course I have recently been following. The course started with "Manon Lescaut" by French author Abbe Prevost, then it moved to Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre. I am glad I have got a chance to read Jane Eyre - had watched the movie once but not read the book. To be precise, I am not actually reading it, I am listening to its audiobook instead - more doable and efficient, subject to my time constraints.

Reading the life story of Jane Eyre, this couragous woman who runs her life as she believes it to be, I feel identified with her, where she is being punished every day for whom she is; her courage, independence, restless inquisitive soul are called as mere irresponsibility, self-indulgence, sole selfishness (I'm confusing her story with my story, I suppose). How could she always be so certain about the credibility of her deeds - not seem to be deceived at all by such blatant accusations? About me, I feel I know what I am doing and why I am doing it, yet when I face ingratitude looks and accusations I cannot resist doubting myself. My usual soothing answer to my utter desperation is, "You have only one life, live it as you believe it to be lived". I tremble - always I tremble upon hearing this old voice - murmuring, "What if it will be all defeat?" Clearly, I cannot forget that moment, when he lost everything - not really everything, not his life, not his family, but so many other things. Instantly, my hands cover my face, expecting the welcome of terror tears. My angel approaches then, gently leaning forward, whispering at my shoulder, "Your whole life is a trial. Try it without terror." In a second, she steps back, clears her throat, profoundly stares at me. Her eyes look decisive, assuring. I can read, "I respect your decision. Whatever your decision is. I am at your command" - not a muscle moves in her face though.

The reason that I enrolled in the course in the first place is that I feel wrapped in an interwoven web of relationships, each thread pulling me aside with variant degrees of strength. I feel stunned, suffocated, overwhelmed with the intricacy of the web. Sometimes I overcome cumbersome threads, loosening or even tearing them apart, triumphly. Sometimes, I get hooked by a new thread so unexpectedly that I might lose control over my life for a while. The old, sturdy threads are the most challenging ones to tackle. They compose your trustable network - your close family, intimate friends. They have been always there, and they will hopefully be staying there in the scale of your life time. Their connections are strong, you have willingly allowed them to be knotted just near your jugular vein - they can simply suffocate you if they decide. How such an intricate web of relationships is depicted and tackled by the imagination of genius is the curiousity I pursue in this course, through literature - a source of inspiration for me, perhaps more than science, as it owns a heart. 

I have not talked about "Manon Lescaut" yet. The story is narrated by Chevalier des Grieux, the insane lover (and husband) of Manon, a gorgous beautiful young woman that makes his miserable husband lose his money and virtues for her, for her love. I do not appreciate such love, the kind of love that takes YOU away from YOU. To me, also, love is seeing an ineffable beauty in your beloved, a beauty that you have not triumphed to find it in yourself yet. Love is a potion that if you take won't allow you to be the same person any more; or, you are supposed not to be the same person if you take the right portion. For a while, you get lost, blended into her entity. It is all her - me does not exist. But, it must not end there. She is not the only one that is supposed to be absorbent. Your triumph in love is at how well YOU could absorb her, embed her beauty, the very same beauty that got away your identity in the first place. You must not be lost forever, you must be found, arising in a new self, a more beautiful self this time, as beautiful as she is, not as miserable as Chevalier. Chevalier always believed Manon is the beautiful one, not him - that's why I do not consider his love as a triumph.