Your Own Little Big Bang

I spend the nights listening to music and trying to make sense of my feelings. Sometimes they are as mysterious to me as they would be to a stranger. Where does it come from?

There is a word, “yakamoz,” in Turkish. As much as I complain about how limited and unsatisfactory Turkish is to me as a language, I’ve failed to find an English term for this word. Yakamoz is the reflection of the moonlight on the sea.

I remember those moonlight filled nights. When the sun sets and the feminine flowery scent of the hot sand transforms into a masculine scent as it cools down and settles into a peaceful rest. The dark starry night welcomes a full moon that shines so brightly on the sea as if to make a path that I could follow to it.

It was impossible not to fall in love on such nights. Romance roamed in the air and took over your being as you simply breathed. It turned commonplace objects and people into butterflies that settled deep into your chest. It turned scents into ecstasy, and one became high, just by existing.

That feeling was so beautiful, that it always made me feel a combination of joy and sadness. The joy that it was happening to me, and the sadness…. I’m not sure why. Maybe I felt sad about being deprived of this emotion at other times, on other days. Maybe I felt sad because I knew it could not exist forever, it was bound to end.

Sometimes, I really admire people who are not able to love. Love is the most powerful, unreasonable emotion. It doesn’t fit, it doesn’t quiet down. It rushes and flows, overtakes, paralyzes, awes. It explodes and overtakes the universe, from right there, inside your little heart. Your own little big bang.

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The Battle of Heart and Mind

Sometimes, we walk away from something even though it is difficult to do so. Sometimes we do it hoping that we’ll find ourselves back there once again in a wishfully not too distant future. And sometimes we do it knowing that it’s the only way, and nothing else was ever meant to be.

Have you followed your heart and regretted having done so?

 

The heart is always right, I once thought,

Wise in a way I don’t understand.

Sending signs of a beautiful future,

That is only waiting for me to take a step.

 

Oh how I have followed my heart,

And bended and groveled, and threw myself at its mercy…

How I’ve rushed to its wants and desires and treaded on its heels abidingly,

Believing that it would take me to where I needed to be. 

 

But the fickle heart carries no wisdom at all.

It runs and chases and gets carried away.

A brittle leaf on a rapid stream, unaware and uncaring.

Invincible it feels, but oh so severely it breaks,

Into millions of pieces, large and small.  

But learn, it does not.

Who but the heart has such audacity,

To get hurt willingly again and again?

 

The mind on the other hand, he has wisdom.

Free of enslaving whimsies and emotions that disease the heart,

You can count on your mind to give you sound advice.

Careful and thoughtful it treads.

Measuring and calculating, it does.

It plans, and plans, and plans.

 

The mind with its realities and analyses

Battles the unreliable craze that is the heart.

High and drugged on romantic thrills,

It pleads and nudges you to ignore your mind. 

 

Whoever wins the battle, you become.