Acceptance

Usually my mind is full of thoughts, and it feels like everything inside is pushing against my skull trying to overcome the equal pressure from the outside air. But sometimes, something clicks in my brain and the overworked machine shut down and rests in a confusing silence. Then, I start to observe. I look around. First, I hear the wind bellowing melodically. Then a bird sings (or it had been singing all along but I only listened now). I smell dust, but I also smell flowers. When I look up, my eyes are blinded by colours and details. Reds, and all shades of oranges on the trees and the withering grass. The crunching of leaves echoes in my mind. Autumn. Cold, smooth, eerie, terrifyingly beautiful. And in the summer, I see a glamorous mix of vibrant leaves glittering like emeralds and the pink bougainvilleas of Bodrum, and in the distance the sea is stretching far and only being separated from the setting sun and lingering fire by a line of land taken over by ugly construction, which at this time doesn't seem so ugly. Hot, sticky, sweaty, but also very calm. For a few minutes, I feel bigger than I am but also smaller than I am. My body is insignificant. But my soul stretches as far as the sea in Bodrum does. Far and deep, into the core of life and nature. I feel like a part of it. I feel woven in the thread of life. I feel alive. I feel holy. Yet this is always interrupted by an urban noise, be it the sliding of a door or the humanely obnoxious voice of a person, it is always interrupted.