Skip to main content

Life in Istanbul

A cacophony of stimulation. Hustle and bustle. Endless sounds. Bells and whistles. 

Life. 

Steaming, teeming life. 

The relentless appearance of life from all angles, towards all aims, at all times.

I have been overwhelmed by so many things. Overwhelmed with fascination, with awe, with inspiration, with mystery. Overwhelmed with stress, with claustrophobia, with the unknown. Overwhelmed with overwhelm. 

Is that a problem? Of course not. 

In Buddhism, this would all be seen as the manifestation of openness. Openness surrounds us, all of us, always. But most of us are so tied to the familiar - to our routines, to our beliefs, to our friendships, to our language, to our hobbies - that we are able to turn away from openness. We close ourselves down, hammer ourselves in, narrow our field of vision. 

But then you come to a place like Istanbul.

And you stay. 

And you stay some more. 

And the daily mystery arising out of openness appears without regard to your comfort or to your idea of normal or to your various preferences. And within that manifest mystery appear two-thousand year-old buildings, ancient waterways, modern condominiums, incomprehensible speech, packed-to-the-brim subways, middle-of-the-road fashion shoots, endless offerings of mouth-watering deserts, raki abetted drinking enterprises that go long into the morning hours, deep-feeling friendships, cats cats more cats and some dogs, ferries, city walls, cruise ships, different incomprehensible languages, the smell of cigarettes, the hopeful cheers and disparaged cries of fanatic football fans, cute cafes, beautiful bookstores, massive malls, historic city walls that still somehow stand amidst the modern metropolis a full 1500 years after their construction, burka-wearing women, swimsuit-wearing models, trashed green spaces, and pristine city streets that were filled shoulder-to-shoulder just an hour prior. 

And all of this shakes you. It shakes you out of yourself. Of course, you race back into yourself, but the city remains. Available, awake, alive. 

At heart, I choose nature. I choose the peaceful solitude of the mountain ridges, the cold air of the elevated climates, the glacial lakes and snow-melt streams.

But I see beauty here, too. 

It cannot be said that nature is the place where life is. Or that nature is how life should be. Actually, it can be said, I suppose, but life doesn't agree with you. 

Because life is here, too. And where there is life, there is beauty. And it is only our outdated preferences and historic prejudices that blind us to the fullness of what lies before us. 

And so I choose this flavor, for now. The unmatched fullness of this particular flavor - Istanbul. 



Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Being the Location of Our Own Well-Being: An Investigation

How is one to go about writing about something that he doesn't understand? Something that he hasn't experienced? Further, how is he to go about teaching it, living it, creating it, instilling it - in himself and, to the degree that they are receptive and interested and willing and committed - others? The more I taste, however faintly, however discreetly, however fleetingly, Bruce's view of the world, the more I realize how completely foreign it is to me. And, I presume, to much of, the vast majority of, our culture.  When I taste it, I like the flavor. But then I spit it out. If I swallow it, it only seems to be in small amounts; amounts that are then fully absorbed by the normal, habitual, familiar processes of my mental and emotional tract.  Words can be written so simply, so effortlessly, and then go off utterly uncomprehended but nonetheless loudly wielded by those who come across them. I know, because I am one of the word-sword bearers.   There are fundamentally...
Post a Comment
Read more

Today, a couple of things happened...

Today, a couple of things happened that I didn't like. First, I had a difficult session with a couple I work with. Second, bitcoin surged and I was left on the sidelines. And when those things happened, I quickly went to the places that I go to when things happen like that. I had thoughts of whether I should be a therapist, of if I’d chosen the wrong career path, of what a sorry excuse for a person I must be, of everybody else in the world basking in the glory of bitcoin money while I stand sorry and empty-handed on the sidelines, of whether I should be living somewhere else. The usual.   And, this time, I saw that I went to those places. Those self-absorbed places that make the world small and turn me into the focus of the world and make me feel bad to boot.   You see, generally I don’t see that I go to those places.  I just go to them.  And then I live out of them. I live out of them without really realizing that I’m living out of them. And, if I do realize it, t...
Post a Comment
Read more

Bruce-ism #2 (On Emotional Reactivity)

A view to consider is that any emotional reactivity I experience is best related to as 100% about my relationship with my own core, life-long vulnerabilities. - Bruce Tift I love Taylor Swift. She has a lot of great songs. She also has at least one terrible one . The chorus to the atrocity in question goes something like, "Look what you made me do. Look what you just made me do. Look what you made me do. Look." It is very bad. But, it does illustrate (repeatedly and annoyingly) a pervasive attitude that plagues us moderns; namely, the view that other people make us feel and do whatever it is that we feel and do. "I didn't want to, I wasn't going to, I wouldn't have, but... Well... YOU. You did that thing, and now I have to do this thing. This thing that, by the way, I swear is very unlike me to do." It's dramatic. I guess it's compelling. And it certainly lets us off the hook. The moment I make you out to be responsible for my behavior, I can a...
Post a Comment
Read more