Now, What?

In the heart of Europe, a little bit to the south, I am typing this. Correction: I am typing and deleting this, typing and deleting this, typing and deleting this. This is one of those posts which have occupied my drafts for the last few months. Each word in this post has been trying to find a meaning they can call their own but sometimes things just don’t work that way. 

Everything would be easier if we were all able to talk through our feelings, through no words. Words were made to limit us, I once read. But with no words, there would be no ambiguities and misunderstandings. And, come on, ambiguities and misunderstandings, at many points, often also trigger us to develop. So, what’s the limit anyway?

I am writing this mostly because of my upcoming birthday. Birthdays are always filled with questions. The questions use to change from “what present do I get for my birthday?” to “what have I achieved up to this birthday?” We also change the address we send the questions to, we don’t anymore ask anyone else, we start to ask our own selves. The latter has somehow become one of the things we like to avoid, or postpone. Fear is the reason why, and like everything that’s based on fear, the questions do not go away, but they become taboo.

It is the question I am trying to face myself with today, before my birthday kicks in. I am feeling the need to know that I am at least one step closer to being sure about who I am. You may have heard or read more questions about self-improvement in social media, but hearing and reading are not exactly the same as answering it. Or, try answering it.

I can actually hardly believe that I am this old. When I was in elementary school I used to think that the world would have come to an end before I got into highschool. Pretty dark, coming from a seemingly decent elementary school kid. I even remember telling my younger brother, “don’t bother thinking about it, we wouldn’t live that long,” if he talked too much about the future.

Birthday was never any big deal in my culture, or at least in my family. We’re saying “happy birthday”, but we do not celebrate it. “A prayer” is the most common birthday gift in my home country. And I wished for nothing more than that as I wrote in WhatsApp-Group of my family last night, “guys I am gonna be having birthday just any minute now!” My older brother answered promptly, “NBA players are already professional in your age”, and the next some minutes he added, “if you double your age now, you’re gonna be almost 50. Mind-blowing.” Some years ago, when I told him I turned 17, he responded, “so how many years are left?”

Unconsciously, with his responses in every of my birthday, he pushed me to lift up the curtain that separates me and the questions I’ve been hiding from. The curtain I call taboo. 

So, how have you changed this far?

Good God, I don’t even know how to begin to answer that.

Let’s see. My road was and is not always easy, at least taken from my point of view. I really wanted to take the easy road, the (seemingly) common road, but there are just many things that I can’t take control of. I should have been married with at least a kid, and to a perfect man, and have gotten a desirable academic degree - that is according to my plan A, made by my naive self some years ago. None of them has come true, except the gaps between those words. I had some gaps. Amazing gaps. Gaps that somehow have become fully occupied with confusions that seemed so endless and useless. But also gaps which have brought me to my current place, the place that I am grateful for. 

These gaps are called: rejections, broken hearts, tears, emptiness, boredom, motorbike accident, loneliness, depression, madness, meditations, prayers, long flights, books, books, books. And all of them to the power of 10. From them, I learned that limit has never really existed. You just… breathe, and continue. You know. 

It was not only once that I felt mad about myself. In fact, I still do feel mad about myself for not being sure about who I am, or how I see things. Some examples: for being afraid to express what I feel, for being afraid to disagree, for being so unsure how I see some political issues, or some religious ideas. It doesn’t happen in one night, I know, but it’s just… maddening.

My mother always said if I ever stop trying, it’s all going to be in vain. My father said, even if I stop, I have already been a better person than most of the world’s inhabitants. So I learned to keep trying while also learning to know when to take a breath and be satisfied. Since living in Germany all by myself, the two lessons feel more important than ever. Well, is it Germany or is it just adulthood?

And, what about passion? 

I once read, your biggest passions are the passions you had when you were little. I liked helping people, I still do, like everyone else in this world. Simply because we can’t live without helping one another. So I guess my passion would be living. And this is my final answer. 

Sarah Sze, one of my favorite artists (even though I have not seen her talks or art installations in live and even though I might not understand her artworks enough), once said that if she didn’t become an artist in X years, she would do something else. I find that a very brave thing to say and I adored her even more when I heard that. I would like to see and be sure about one certain thing in a way Sarah Sze to art. I think I already have that one certain thing, I want to write more. 

But I don’t want to over-wish or over-plan my future. I just want to see where this is going.

This has been a very exhausting post. Not necessarily good enough, but at least I finally write again after a while. Just like my life, after all I don’t really care about the result, I just really enjoy writing. 

Have a good one, people.