Protect your energy

“Protect your energy."


That’s what my dear friend

kept telling me over the last few weeks,

After I felt overwhelmed and burned out

socially, emotionally, mentally,

and physically.


It took me some time

to understand what she meant.


How do I actually protect my energy?

From what?

From whom?


I couldn’t help but wonder!


Is it easy to feel drained-

In the fast-paced life we live?


Or did we simply lose control-

Somewhere along the way?


I look at people online

They call themselves coaches,

guides,

or names I no longer recognize.


It’s strange

How obsessed we’ve become

with labels.


I saw an “energy guide” once,

listing solutions:

meditation,

breathing,

spirituality,

and more.


I was curious

How did they get there?


I’ve believed

that life is a deeply individual journey.


No one on Earth

can fully feel you

or truly understand you.


So your job becomes

to understand what’s moving through your life


your thoughts,

your emotions,

And yes,

your energy.


I took my friend’s advice.


I kept wondering.

I kept searching.


How do I protect my energy?

from others,

And also from myself?


Somewhere along the way,

I became very social.


I learned how to be social.


I used to be an introvert

Or at least very selective.


When I had too many choices,

I chose nothing.

I chose myself.


When invitations piled up,

I’d feel torn

wanting to attend all of them

or none of them.


So I stayed home.

And I enjoyed myself.


I never had FOMO

the fear of missing out.


I had JOMO:

The joy of missing out.


Responsibilities slowly pulled me away from that.


I wanted distance

because suddenly,

Everyone wanted my time.


But I also wanted time with myself.


I wanted to date myself.


Go to the cinema alone.

Walk alone.


Look at the stars

and say hello.


And when all of that disappeared

because there was no time left,

and no energy left!

I realized why.

I didn’t protect my energy.


Not enough.

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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