I gave peace to that

 I had to learn how to give peace.

To give peace to all the unreturned things
people, moments, and feelings.

I was on a road trip in the Flinders Ranges, South Australia,
When I forgot my favourite scarf from Spain
somewhere along the road.

It was strange, because I barely lose things.

I’m known for keeping things in good shape
and not losing them.

So somehow, I was experiencing
a new feeling about myself.

It was hard to search for it.

I looked everywhere we had been
bars, restaurants, camping sites,
but not a single sign.

I felt grief about the situation,
a moment of sadness, but also
a quiet decision
to let it go.

I kept the picture, hoping
Someone would find it
and appreciate it.

I reminded myself of my minimalism journey,
where you sometimes have to give things up
to make space for new things

and still appreciate what you once had,
and learn:

Love people, use things,
and appreciate both
in their own time.

I had to learn the grief of letting go

of people I once loved,
Once upon a time.

Of things that meant so much to me.

Of the land I left behind.

And of the things I left
with people I no longer feel seeing.

I had to give peace
to my stolen bike in Berlin,

To my Spanish scarf in Australia,

To my beautiful yellow jacket in Vietnam,

To my grandmother’s perfume,

To my father’s artwork.

It was hard to give peace
to the things you let go of,
knowing they were never meant
to be returned.

To reach this ultimate way
of letting go

Because you know
It is your way
of lightening your soul.

To all the versions I once was;

I HAVE NO ENERGY LEFT

“I HAVE NO ENERGY LEFT” I said that after doing my best. I have no fight left in me for those who have no dignity, for those who are different in a good or bad way, just different. The ones who don’t align with my values. The ones who choose themselves over others, Who listens to one side and refuse to hear the other. Who thinks twice before giving, who think twice before loving, who think twice about sharing their food not only that, but carry such heavy moods they make you question your own goodness, as if it’s not enough, or not as worthy as theirs. Those who see the world differently who decides who is right and who is wrong, who deserves land more than another, Who deserves a visa? a paper, or even a mother. To the politicians’ anger. To women-haters. I had no energy left in me. To those who cannot dream. To those who do not dare. To live life I wish to spare myself. To the greedy. To the needy. To the ones who do not dare to dream, yet still dare to scream!
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Take wisdom from the mouths of crazy people

"It’s not about being right; it's about observing people." -Vailcan people- It was the first thing this drunk man said. It was kind of interesting. He came closer and kept talking. The first thought that came to my mind was: “Take wisdom from the mouths of crazy people.” Somehow, it was true until it wasn’t. He talked a lot, mostly about his personal journey and life, which was of no interest to me at all, But I let him speak. Until he suddenly raised his voice at me and said: “Why the fucking Muslim prays in the street in front of the cathedral and not in the fucking mosque?” He said it angrily. I kept listening. I kept observing. It took me years of my life to learn how to stay calm in such moments when it comes to almost any topic. I don’t react easily. I don’t get angry, especially in the last few years, After burnout taught me silence. I listened to the voice in my head, looked into his eyes, and wondered: What do I see there? Racism? Fear? Ignorance? All of it? I wo...
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To all the versions I once were;

 To all the versions I once was; To the saddest of me, the one who suffered a lot, experienced many emotions for the first time The first time, I couldn’t handle a rejection The first time I was sad about living The first time I experienced loss and death When my grandma passed away, I went to the kitchen to bake a cake, and my mom hit me and told me I was disrespectful! But I was 11 back then, and I didn’t know how to deal with it. No one taught me because no one could. To the first fear, when I first lost my mom at the shops, no one was holding my hand I was scared to death, to feel left behind, to feel the fear in every inch That fear comes with madness, and a lot of crying, you look around like crazy But my 4-year-old me didn’t know better Didn’t know how to come up with ideas beyond imagination, and then I was terrified. To the happy one, once. When I was elected in a competition, and my grandpa cried with happiness He gave me my first phone. And I remember the first time when...
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