“How do you dream the dream of the just ?” he asked with open eyes and his hand on my shoulder. An old man with a image of Beatles’ song “Nowhereman”. “I could not remember the last time I had them and the question remains with me.” he continues, “I guess the answer is pretty simple, you just can’t do anything about it. There is no such thing as “dream”, you can’t dream, you just be and see the resemblance of you in you.”. I was shocked and replied ” But then the question evolves into “how come there is the dream of the just?”, right ?”. For that he smiled…
By then I also remembered, it was too long also for me since I had that kind of sleep, too long to remember. I was sad like a cold wind in a cold autumn day. Then he continued “Ok then tell me, does your friends help ? does people around you help ?”
I tried to say “I am not alone”, yet he stopped me with a smile and a nod, he then turned around and said “Don’t search something you don’t have in others, and don’t assume you are not alone, I know you my old friend…” He went just as he came and left me there just with a single question “How can one dream the dream of the just ?”…
Even if you are walking by yourself you are not walking alone. The way is always there with you and is the existence of you and your walking, always changing with every step and welcoming you.
It takes you through the rivers and the mountains. As you keep walking, you hear the way talk to you and teach you many things. Not all things are fun and for your liking. You may left aside with a broken wrist or worse things may happen to you, you may fear the destinations and scream with fear, but still you will never be alone as it was the way what took you there and it still is the same way what will lead you somewhere else.
Every thought and every prayer that goes through your head is heard by the mountain. It stays there and listens to the winds that carries you and your ideas without judging.
When you look upon a mountain you see the millenniums. There is war, death, peace, life, freedom, power, kindness… You can feel little next to a mountain but also you can feel the divine inspiration in the wind dances around it…
As the great William Blake said:
“Great things are done when men and mountains meet.”
While waiting in the cave of rivers running deep and not knowing where you are going, the cold river is taking little pieces from you and drifting them away, there is one thing that remains as the undeniable truth. There is light… Whether it is at the end of the tunnel or at doorway you just walked in, it is a fact that there is light. You may not like the idea that the cave is your home now and the still running rivers may one day come up and drown you, but even that does not change the fact that there is light. You felt it, you were in it and surrounded by it. While you are in shadows now and all things already have forgotten about you and you are slowly disappearing into darkness; you remember the light, you remember it in darkness and without changing the truth that begs the question whether you are disappearing into the light or the darkness…
Then the night begins to set in. With every seconds it calms the sea and land. People return to their homes and the streets gets lonely again. Without uttering a word the island begins to tell the tale of people where people get ready for dreams of the truth. Yet the true dreams come from overseas and the mountain awaits them. Still the storm is nowhere to be seen and everyone is calm like the sea.
The moon shows its face above the mountain and the dreams begin to flow. Everyone becomes a child and the houses were left empty again. The mountain watches over the people as the people watches themselves. The night dreams the dream of being human and all people forget about the storm and thunder. Yet you still are awake and wait for it to come home…
Waiting in a wooden house for the storm to hit. Your dreams filled with open sea and the clouds gathering. You can hear the thunder as it approaches and remember its sound calling you home, yet the only thing everyone sees is the clear blue sky and your little wooden house. Without a worry they pass you by. Sometimes with a little smile and a nod, sometimes they just pass by.
Yet the mountain is there, it has always been there. It sees your dreams, it sees your heart and without a worry it smiles on you and the coming storm. It does not care about the blue sky nor does it care about the storm and the sea. Yet ever powerful, it stays there and watches over you.
Is nature an abstract idea ? A story we tell ourselves in the darkness of our minds to be calm in a vast universe ? Or is it an idea like freedom, which finds its way back to reality, which cannot be killed or contained. Is nature a dream, where amazing things happens and we, the natives of the dream find that very possible ?
Does that idea hit us when we see something that amaze us, like a tree jumping out of a rock and stays there with its minimalist beauty. As I watch the river and this tree, I understood that we do not “design” something, we just “burrow” ideas from a dreamer who already showed us wonders.
Even the road to the wonders are amazing. You cannot push it away and say “just this thing is amazing” that is just ignorance, not being able to “see the world in a grain” as the poet put it. When the river flows you flow with it…
The fences we build and the separations we create in our minds, which are by the way, also a fiction of the dreamer, is also amazing. How absurd we look beside such abstract ideas, and even thinking what reality actually is…
The nature can amaze you when you least expect it to do so. It hides very well in our little technological world and when you turn the corner it is there with it very friendly and inviting face. It remembers you and even you lived your whole life in a crowded city you also remember it.
The great nature of Kaz Daglari, great walking paths leading to forest with rivers flowing though them is like a wakeup call. You hear a calling which come trough the years and generations. All these beautiful sights are mixed with a lore is just a great escape from dream to reality.
The first day began with 6-7 hours of driving then when we settled at the hotel, there is a walking path of 45 minutes under the olive trees to the river. The sun was uninviting but we kept walking for the sake of walking under the olive trees and it was worth it.
This was the sight when we arrive the waterfall of Hasanboguldu. It has a rather sad story but a great refreshing sight and sound. I forgot the whole way and start to feel great. With the cold coming from the waterfall, I began to understand what the water try to say. We sat there for a moment and touched the water, but it is a story for the next time…
I have met my oldest friend, whom I known all my life. He looked sad and beaten, so I said “Look at the beautiful view, don’t you like it?”
He said “Let me tell you what I see, man, then we’ll see… Ok ?”. “You are telling me you see a beautiful scene, but I see the sun setting down on everything you hold dear, don’t you see ?”
“I also see the storm gathering like the madness up ahead. The coulds came home and you have nowhere to run anymore and no friend to turn to”
“It will be great and merciless and you will have to fly through it, my old friend”
“So to cut the long story short, No I don’t see the beautiful scene but I see what is to come”.
I asked in vain “Don’t you see anything beautiful at all?”. He answered swiftly “No man, not today.”
“I dont believe in the light of the upcoming day, but in the darkness it left behind. And that we will dwell in it for a time now”
So without any more words I sat near him and watch the darkness in all its irony…
Flowing with the wind. There is almost peace in that idea. Becoming the wind itself and flowing over the mountains and the seas. The “nothing”ness of the flow and the power it has is magical. In the end, it is not “you” anymore when you let yourself in the wind, it is not the air nor the thermodynamics , it is just the flow itself. The “change” changes not, as it becomes clearer that there has never been anything to change.
Where will you be when that storm gathers ? Home ? Sleeping ? Will you run away ? Or just try to prove yourself ? Where will you be ? That was the question in her eyes. I guess I will be waiting near the shore waiting the storm come near to sail away. The deep blue sea and the darkening sky without question are the simple solution to all of her questions, and so I smiled when the storm begin to gather…
“Last words before I go” she said, and then she was silent. So I thought I was an idiot, yet there was more in her silence than I could understand. Since everything passed before me, it is my time to tell the tale and I ask you “what do you think?”, answer freely please and do not despair, since “ex nihilo…”. Well you know the rest my friend of evermore…
Never realizing how much time I took to answer the questions, I noticed things getting dark and cold. So I look upon his face and there was he not. Instead I saw her face smiling. She said “I see you my child, don’t worry, but do you see me ?”. I was confused. Still the song goes on and on and I never knew the way before me…
“Life from death ?” he said, “Do you believe that?”, “something from nothing?”. I didn’t get the question and so I didn’t answer. But he continued “So it must follow that cause and effect has a beggining?”, yet I still cannot answer and he kept going on, “And time ?”, so I cannot keep quite and try to speak a word, but there was none. Next thing you know, was a big bang… and he was silent and I was talking all the nonsense and noone can tell the cause from effect.
“Do you see yourself there” asked the traveler ? I didn’t know the answer then, so I said “No ?”. He said “you are not there, you special speck of dust, yet you will return there?”. Shocked I was looking at his face, then he said “Do you see me there ?”, then I realized it was me telling the story. Yet still the question remained altough the story was beautiful…
What lies behind the rocks of ever-being ? Does the sun light your way or does it welcomes you from the beginingless-time ? What elements do you see and what answer will you give them ? Have you been even asked a single question ? If so what was it ? Or even more important, who was it ?
What would you say if you have a wonderful sunset infront of you and noone to share that view with ? Is that the fault of the sunset ? Is there even a fault ? You just stand there and watch the sun go down. With its beauty while the sun goes down, it also brings darkness and cold. Yet you begin to understand that “you can’t swim in the same river twice” has a lot of meanings and the sadness as a river flows in everyone of us.
You may be feeling different, even alone in a wonderful city with lots of people. Yet you can’t complain about the view, you stand there and watch it very closely. While you do that, the river flows from your past into your future and it becomes sometimes wild and powerful, sometimes a nice sound in the background and sometimes barely visible.
Also the river brings you stories about other people, you just don’t see them as a part of the background. They then become the main actors/actresses in the scene while you become somewhat of a background.. Some stay long and some not, yet they all have roles and in the end they also very crucial part of the scene.
It is very rare you may think to find someone in the crowd, who doesn’t pretend. While you were thinking that the journey along the river brings you to yourself. You see past yourself as an actor/actress also. It very clearly shows you your performances and the applause you got for it. While the river may not be that strong now, it has left a riverbed to remember it by.
But all of this doesn’t mean that there is not true beauty. There actually is and it is a very kind and graceful thing. That doesn’t make it vulnerable. The beauty goes thorough the river and the waters don’t even touch it. You recognize it instantly and in the blink of an eye it is gone.
The beautiful things fly free always. The question is what are they free from ? They are free from the river. That doesn’t mean they don’t feel sad, they do, but it is not their sadness, it cannot hold onto them. Then they become free to travel and be seen.
It is therefore important to recognize the beautiful things when you see them. This way they also can see themselves and feel the freedom they have. It is a kind of saying “thank you” with flowers or taking a deep breath while walking in a park. It takes very little time before you go back to your river and flow away with it.
We always think of “home” as a physical place, like the building we live in. The abstract notion of home comes second with our memories of that place. While there is logic in it, that explanation seem to lack some basic ingredient.
It may very well be that the idea of home is created, but also the explanation still came out true, when the conecpt of “home” is. That it just “is”, that’s it… Than the whole search begins from the beginingless and endless time. While it is an open question for me, there is no doubt that “we find a speck of truth in each riddle” as Mr. Ian Anderson put it:
Deep red are the sunsets in mystical places
Black are the nights on summer day sands
We’ll find the speck of truth in each riddle
Hold the first grain of love in our hands
So is “home” an abstract notion, I don’t think so. While it has a side, it isn’t completly formed by it. How do we know that ? In fact we feel that, like sometimes you can tell “I am home”… For those times…
A few weeks ago my friends asked me to photograph them for their newly formed dance groud Durga. The love bollywood and they love to dance. The rest of the photographs are on their site, www.durga.com.tr
It has been a long day, but in the end it was worth it. They looked great and it was really fun walking around with people who looked as if they just jumped out of a movie.
I know that they will be successful and they will have fun. So I can’t wait to see them on stage real soon.
It is a privilage to say to someone “happy mother’s day”. It is a special thing to be a mother and when you are a male, it is something you only see but never feel. So Mother’s Day means something special to men. Yet it is also a very lonely day to spend at cemetery.
Still, not having someone to congratulate doesn’t mean you shouldn’t celebrate it. It is a day to remember that you have been given a chance, a chance to everything, a chance to see what love feels like up close. It is the day you should remember that you have been given everything by someone who loves you. In spite of the materialistic view of the century it is a day to remember that every materialistic need is inferior to our essence. That puts us into perspective…
That is why we celebrate it and why we give flowers. Flowers which resembles the beauty…
And while I was thinking I had noone, there is this little lady with her three little infants, curled up into a little corner near my office. She is very beautiful and graceful. She always welcomes you into her family. The best 15 seconds you can spend looking at her sleeping with her children. Just let everything go and be there for 15 seconds, looking at her sleeping with them, that surely is meditation…
So, I celebrated someone’s Mother’s Day, and I think she also enjoyed it. So happy Mother’s Day to whoever reads these lines…