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HERŞEY SENDE GİZLİ

Siir mevsimine girdim...


Yerin seni çektiği kadar ağırsın
Kanatların çırpındığı kadar hafif..
Kalbinin attığı kadar canlısın
Gözlerinin uzağı gördüğü kadar genç...
Sevdiklerin kadar iyisin
Nefret ettiklerin kadar kötü..
Ne renk olursa olsun kaşın gözün
Karşındakinin gördüğüdür rengin..
Yaşadıklarını kar sayma:
Yaşadığın kadar yakınsın sonuna;

Ne kadar yaşarsan yaşa,
Sevdiğin kadardır ömrün..
Gülebildiğin kadar mutlusun
Üzülme bil ki ağladığın kadar güleceksin
Sakın bitti sanma her şeyi,

Sevdiğin kadar sevileceksin.
Güneşin doğuşundadır doğanın sana verdiği değer
Ve karşındakine değer verdiğin kadar insansın
Bir gün yalan söyleyeceksen eğer
Bırak karşındaki sana güvendiği kadar inansın.
Ay ışığındadır sevgiliye duyulan hasret
Ve sevgiline hasret kaldığın kadar ona yakınsın
Unutma yagmurun yağdığı kadar ıslaksın
Güneşin seni ısıttığı kadar sıcak.
Kendini yalnız hissetiğin kadar yalnızsın
Ve güçlü hissettiğin kadar güçlü.
Kendini güzel hissettiğin kadar güzelsin..

İşte budur hayat!
İşte budur yaşamak bunu hatırladığın kadar yaşarsın
Bunu unuttuğunda aldığın her nefes kadar üşürsün
Ve karşındakini unuttuğun kadar çabuk unutulursun
Çiçek sulandığı kadar güzeldir
Kuşlar ötebildiği kadar sevimli
Bebek ağladığı kadar bebektir
Ve herşeyi öğrendiğin kadar bilirsin bunu da öğren,
Sevdiğin kadar sevilirsin...


Can Yucel

ÖĞRENDİM

Yaşam azıksız bir yolculuk
Adım adım yürümeyi öğrendim
Ne gereğinden fazla hızlı
Ne de fazla yavaş gitmeyi öğrendim

Başkalarının anlattıklarını dinlemeyi
Hayatıma uygulamayı öğrendim
Bunların hepsi saçmalık deyip
Alayına isyan etmeyi öğrendim

Hayaller kurdum,
İmkansız yoktur, tanımam dedim
Daha ilk denemede çuvallamayı öğrendim

Sevmeyi
Sevdiğimi içimde tutmayı öğrendim
Yeri geldi
Yağmur gibi açılmayı öğrendim

Sevdiğimin beni sevmesini gördüm
Sevdiğim halde sevilmediğimi gördüm
En kötüsünün
Sevmediğim halde sevilmek olduğunu öğrendim

Pişman olmayı,
İçimin kor kor yanmasını izledim
Ardından
Bununla da mutlu olunacağını öğrendim

İnanmayı,
Ömrümü bir şeye adamayı seçtim
Ardından her şeyi sorgulamayı
Boşlukta askıda kalmayı öğrendim

Hedefler çizdim
Ömürlük idealler belirledim
Sonra hepsini
Bir kalemde çizmeyi öğrendim

Canım, ciğerim dediğim
Bir insanın da ölebileceğini
Acısının çok acı
Boşluğunun hiç mi hiç
Doldurulamaz olduğunu öğrendim

Sevenleri gördüm bir ömür boyu vefayla
İlk fırsatta ihanet edenleri gördüm
İhanetin acısının
Koskoca bir hayatı tükettiğini öğrendim

Özündeki çiğ sütü gördüm insanın
Ufacık bir çıkara tamah ederken
Güvenmemeyi öğrendim hiçbir zaman
Ama tüm ruhumla güvenebileceğim
Dostların bulunduğunu da öğrendim

Kâr eden insanlar oldu
Hüsrana uğrayanlar oldu etrafımda
Bugün verilen kararların
Yıllar sonraki etkisini gördüm
Bazen kaybetmenin kazanmak
Kazanmanın kaybetmek olduğunu öğrendim

Gerçek nedir, nedendir
Diye araştırdım her yerde
Gerçeğin içimde yaşadığını öğrendim
Üzülünce ağlar, sevinince gülerdim eskiden
Duyguların da yanıltıcı olduğunu öğrendim

Genç olduğumu anlamadan
Gençliğin tükendiğini anladım
Bir alevlik ömürde hiçbir şeyi
Abartmamak gerektiğini öğrendim

Şimdi sana el uzatıyorsam sevgili
Bil ki sana tüm öğrendiklerimle geldim

ÖĞRENDİM

Yaşam azıksız bir yolculuk
Adım adım yürümeyi öğrendim
Ne gereğinden fazla hızlı
Ne de fazla yavaş gitmeyi öğrendim

Başkalarının anlattıklarını dinlemeyi
Hayatıma uygulamayı öğrendim
Bunların hepsi saçmalık deyip
Alayına isyan etmeyi öğrendim

Hayaller kurdum,
İmkansız yoktur, tanımam dedim
Daha ilk denemede çuvallamayı öğrendim

Sevmeyi
Sevdiğimi içimde tutmayı öğrendim
Yeri geldi
Yağmur gibi açılmayı öğrendim

Sevdiğimin beni sevmesini gördüm
Sevdiğim halde sevilmediğimi gördüm
En kötüsünün
Sevmediğim halde sevilmek olduğunu öğrendim

Pişman olmayı,
İçimin kor kor yanmasını izledim
Ardından
Bununla da mutlu olunacağını öğrendim

İnanmayı,
Ömrümü bir şeye adamayı seçtim
Ardından her şeyi sorgulamayı
Boşlukta askıda kalmayı öğrendim

Hedefler çizdim
Ömürlük idealler belirledim
Sonra hepsini
Bir kalemde çizmeyi öğrendim

Canım, ciğerim dediğim
Bir insanın da ölebileceğini
Acısının çok acı
Boşluğunun hiç mi hiç
Doldurulamaz olduğunu öğrendim

Sevenleri gördüm bir ömür boyu vefayla
İlk fırsatta ihanet edenleri gördüm
İhanetin acısının
Koskoca bir hayatı tükettiğini öğrendim

Özündeki çiğ sütü gördüm insanın
Ufacık bir çıkara tamah ederken
Güvenmemeyi öğrendim hiçbir zaman
Ama tüm ruhumla güvenebileceğim
Dostların bulunduğunu da öğrendim

Kâr eden insanlar oldu
Hüsrana uğrayanlar oldu etrafımda
Bugün verilen kararların
Yıllar sonraki etkisini gördüm
Bazen kaybetmenin kazanmak
Kazanmanın kaybetmek olduğunu öğrendim

Gerçek nedir, nedendir
Diye araştırdım her yerde
Gerçeğin içimde yaşadığını öğrendim
Üzülünce ağlar, sevinince gülerdim eskiden
Duyguların da yanıltıcı olduğunu öğrendim

Genç olduğumu anlamadan
Gençliğin tükendiğini anladım
Bir alevlik ömürde hiçbir şeyi
Abartmamak gerektiğini öğrendim

Şimdi sana el uzatıyorsam sevgili
Bil ki sana tüm öğrendiklerimle geldim

Yılmaz Değirmenci

(X )Next to ME

 

My observation of the three types of people to invite out of your life:

Energy vampires. Some people just wear you out; you feel more tired and stressed, less vital after interacting with them. These folks seem to believe that the main job of their friends is to help them feel better. Sadly, no matter how deeply you listen, no matter how much counsel you offer, no matter how much you put your own needs on the back burner to support these folks, it will not be enough.  Think about the friends who consistently take more from you than they give back, and ask yourself why you’re still offering yourself to be sucked dry.

I Me Mine: “I Me Mine” people are the center of their own universe, and if they’re in your life, you are always going to have to work around their needs and preferences.  Collaboration, reciprocity and give and take are not part of their vocabulary.  Do what you can to minimize your interactions with these folks (although they may let you know in no uncertain terms that you’re being unreasonable or unfair not to be available to fulfill their every whim).

Liars.  Fool me once, shame on you.  Fool me twice, shame on me.  Fool me three times – why are you still on the list of people whose calls I return?  If someone is consistently unreliable, or tells you things that aren’t true, or says one thing to you and another thing to someone else in order to protect themselves….cut them loose. Liars are the worst. 
 ..........

The great thing to realize is that you actually don’t need have to these people in your life.  You can kindly but firmly minimize your interactions with them.  And that frees you up to invite wonderful people into your life.

We are transmitters of life

 

I love this idea from Laurence, that we maybe kindle the life-quality where it was not......


We are transmitters of life

D. H. Laurence

As we live, we are transmitters of life.
And when we fail to transmit life,
life fails to flow through us ...
And if, as we work, we can transmit
life into our work,
life, still more life, rushes into us
to compensate, to be ready
and we ripple with life through the days.

Give, and it shall be given unto you
is still the truth about life ...
It means kindling the life-quality
where it was not,
Even if it's only in the whiteness
of a washed pocket-handkerchief.

Robert Bly

Keeping Our Small Boat Afloat

So many blessings have been given to us
During the first distribution of light, that we are
Admired in a thousand galaxies for our grief.

Don't expect us to appreciate creation or to
Avoid mistakes.  Each of us is a latecomer
To the earth, picking up wood for the fire.

Every night another beam of light slips out
From the oyster's closed eye.  So don't give up hope
That the door of mercy may still be open.

Seth and Shem, tell me, are you still grieving
Over the spark of light that descended with no
Defender near into the Egypt of Mary's womb?

It's hard to grasp how much generosity
Is involved in letting us go on breathing,
When we contribute nothing valuable but our grief.

Each of us deserves to be forgiven, if only for
Our persistence in keeping our small boat afloat
When so many have gone down in the storm.

 ...................

 from a poem by Robert Bly, titled, Looking At Some Flowers:

"Light is around the petals, and behind them:
Some petals are living on the other side of the light."


To get to the point in the poem where it's only your voice speaking - light is around the words, and behind them, clouds pass over the page, some words on the other side of light. 

not like

I am not like
other people
other people are like
other people.

they are all alike;
joining
grouping
huddling

they are both gleeful
and content and I am
burning in hell.

my heart is a thousand years old.
I am not like
other people.

~ Charles Bukowski

Lonely: Learning to Live with Solitude by Emily White

This past week I've been reading a book titled Lonely: Learning to Live with Solitude by Emily White. The book is incredibly well-researched and talks about the writer's own experience navigating through an extreme loneliness. She talks about loneliness as being related to but different from depression and identifies the types - emotional and social loneliness. Situational loneliness. Those moments when one experiences an 'eerie affliction of the spirit.' White also talks about how difficult it is to talk about loneliness - it's not just that there's a stigma, or that it gets confused with depression - I think that it's because we fear making those who are in our lives guilty. Not to mention that most people think that loneliness is just this passing mood, rather than a state, and sometimes one that can be prolonged.

Writers, in general, are familiar with loneliness, and embrace it to some degree. It's very often the act of  writing, that saves the lonely person. White's book is mainly a book that examines the psychological and medical research surrounding loneliness, and she also interviews people through her blog. I found the comments she collected from her interviewees very interesting. She quotes 'Anne the social worker':  "When I think about loneliness, I think about just feeling like I don't have intimate connections that touch on all the different aspects of myself. And it's not that I don't have intimate relationships. It's that I don't have ones that cover all of who I am."  

So, this isn't a book about literary loneliness, which is something I'm interested in. But it's well worth reading even if just to wrap one's mind around the differences between loneliness and depression. It certainly got me thinking about my own abiding relationship with loneliness, which is not a deep or extreme loneliness, but a loneliness nevertheless. 

Perhaps, this has nothing to do with the subject, but I've always thought it notable that the words lonely and lovely were only one letter away from each other. Which maybe says something about my relationship with loneliness. 

If you know someone who struggles with loneliness, seems isolated, or if you feel so yourself, this book contains much food for thought, much insight.

I Am Much Too Alone in This World, Yet Not Alone”

 I find myself reading a lot of poetry these days.I am enjoying this reading path...and finding gems along the way, and revisiting favourite poets too.  Rilke for example..

I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone
enough
to truly consecrate the hour.
I am much too small in this world, yet not small
enough
to be to you just object and thing,
dark and smart.
I want my free will and want it accompanying
the path which leads to action;
and want during times that beg questions,
where something is up,
to be among those in the know,
or else be alone.
I want to mirror your image to its fullest perfection,
never be blind or too old
to uphold your weighty wavering reflection.
I want to unfold.
Nowhere I wish to stay crooked, bent;
for there I would be dishonest, untrue.
I want my conscience to be
true before you;
want to describe myself like a picture I observed
for a long time, one close up,
like a new word I learned and embraced,
like the everday jug,
like my mother’s face,
like a ship that carried me along
through the deadliest storm

Rainer Maria Rilke
Translated by Annemarie S. Kidder

I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone 
    enough
to truly consecrate the hour.
I am much too small in this world, yet not small 
    enough
to be to you just object and thing, 
dark and smart.
I want my free will and want it accompanying 
the path which leads to action;
and want during times that beg questions, 
where something is up, 
to be among those in the know, 
or else be alone.

I want to mirror your image to its fullest perfection, 
never be blind or too old
to uphold your weighty wavering reflection. 
I want to unfold.
Nowhere I wish to stay crooked, bent; 
for there I would be dishonest, untrue. 
I want my conscience to be 
true before you;
want to describe myself like a picture I observed 
for a long time, one close up, 
like a new word I learned and embraced, 
like the everday jug, 
like my mother's face, 
like a ship that carried me along 
through the deadliest storm.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/16290#sthash.Y1PXcEHO.dpuf

I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone 
    enough
to truly consecrate the hour.
I am much too small in this world, yet not small 
    enough
to be to you just object and thing, 
dark and smart.
I want my free will and want it accompanying 
the path which leads to action;
and want during times that beg questions, 
where something is up, 
to be among those in the know, 
or else be alone.

I want to mirror your image to its fullest perfection, 
never be blind or too old
to uphold your weighty wavering reflection. 
I want to unfold.
Nowhere I wish to stay crooked, bent; 
for there I would be dishonest, untrue. 
I want my conscience to be 
true before you;
want to describe myself like a picture I observed 
for a long time, one close up, 
like a new word I learned and embraced, 
like the everday jug, 
like my mother's face, 
like a ship that carried me along 
through the deadliest storm.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/16290#sthash.Y1PXcEHO.dpuf

I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone 
    enough
to truly consecrate the hour.
I am much too small in this world, yet not small 
    enough
to be to you just object and thing, 
dark and smart.
I want my free will and want it accompanying 
the path which leads to action;
and want during times that beg questions, 
where something is up, 
to be among those in the know, 
or else be alone.

I want to mirror your image to its fullest perfection, 
never be blind or too old
to uphold your weighty wavering reflection. 
I want to unfold.
Nowhere I wish to stay crooked, bent; 
for there I would be dishonest, untrue. 
I want my conscience to be 
true before you;
want to describe myself like a picture I observed 
for a long time, one close up, 
like a new word I learned and embraced, 
like the everday jug, 
like my mother's face, 
like a ship that carried me along 
through the deadliest storm.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/16290#sthash.Y1PXcEHO.dpuf

I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone 
    enough
to truly consecrate the hour.
I am much too small in this world, yet not small 
    enough
to be to you just object and thing, 
dark and smart.
I want my free will and want it accompanying 
the path which leads to action;
and want during times that beg questions, 
where something is up, 
to be among those in the know, 
or else be alone.

I want to mirror your image to its fullest perfection, 
never be blind or too old
to uphold your weighty wavering reflection. 
I want to unfold.
Nowhere I wish to stay crooked, bent; 
for there I would be dishonest, untrue. 
I want my conscience to be 
true before you;
want to describe myself like a picture I observed 
for a long time, one close up, 
like a new word I learned and embraced, 
like the everday jug, 
like my mother's face, 
like a ship that carried me along 
through the deadliest storm.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/16290#sthash.Y1PXcEHO.dpuf

Destinations

1. The Hay Wain (John Constable, 1821): The Hay Wain by John Constable portrays rural life on the River Stour in Suffolk, England. Flatford Mill was owned by Constable’s family and, along with the house to the left of the painting, still exists today! Begin planning your visit to this historic site here.

The Hay Wain by John Constable. Located in Flatford Mill, Suffolk.

2. The Fountain of Vaucluse (Thomas Cole, 1841): The Fontaine-de-Vaucluse is located in the Provence-Alpes-Côte d’Azur region in France. Clearly, the beautiful castle in Thomas’ painting deteriorated over the years. Nevertheless, it’s still a beautiful sight! Explore places to stay in Provence-Alpes-Côte d’Azur here.

The Fountain of Vaucluse by Cole.

3. Church at Auvers (Vincent van Gogh, 1890): Van Gogh’s gloomy depiction of the Church at Auvers is not even the slightest bit creepy in real life. The church is located in Auvers-sur-Oise in Paris, France and is quite beautiful. Stay in one of these properties and paint up your own version of the church.

Van Gogh’s Church at Auvers. Located in Auver, France.

4. The Scream (Edvard Munch, 1893): The screamer in Munch’s The Scream is positioned on Ekeberg Hill in Oslo, Norway screaming over a view of the Oslofjord. While the below real-life photo of The Scream’s location in Oslo looks magnificently beautiful, make the trip yourself and see if you “sense the infinite scream passing through nature” like Munch did! Stay in one of these properties in Oslo.

The Scream by Edvard Munch. Located in Oslo, Norway.

5. Water-Lily Pond (Monet, 1899): When Monet moved to Giverny, France he also purchased a small pond just by his home which he created into a beautiful water garden with a Japanese style bridge. He recreated this water garden in one of his most famous paintings, Water-Lily Pond. Next time you jet off for a weekend in Paris, stay in one of these beautiful properties and make the hour drive to visit Monet’s beautiful water garden in person!

Water-Lily Pond by Monet.
 (http://blog.roomorama.com/)