Encounters with Istanbul

Deconstruction vs Reconstruction?

The first step I took in İstanbul ended up being into the Taksim square as I missed the stop I had to get off from the shuttle while chitchatting with Girisha. So I passed through Gezi Park, where it all started. An uprising unheard of, which shook us to the core even while we were soooo far away in our cozy little island. It was around 8 in the morning and there were still some people sleeping in the park. I guess there are always some people sleeping in the park but it feels different when they are some “clean”, mainstream youngsters wrapped in colorful blankets instead of drunkards. Although no other visible sign indicating any action, the vibe in the park is strong. A deconstruction is happening. I don't know how far it will go. As the deconstruction of my tiny little world is happening full-on this year it is kind of symbolic to step into Gezi Park right away.

I thought about Sevil while passing through the park; she lives very near, I missed her a lot and she would have all the stories about the uprising. But then I thought better to visit the family home with no family inside. Dad in motherland Caucasus, Mum in summer house, sis in Greece, me just arriving. Citizens of the world, huh! We'll all be together quite soon but I like it when I am just on my own after a long travel. Having a phase of readjustment eases the transition from one world into another. So I head home taking a shuttle from Taksim square, walking the familiar steps towards our flat which I have taken millions of times over the dozens of years my family has been residing here. And here comes the second wave of deconstruction...As the apartment will be rebuilt soon the garden is somehow deserted, the automobile gallery at the entrance is closed down, even our flat feels deserted with the shower tab broken and some other little staff to be fixed. I am loving this! It feels like an opportunity for a major reconstruction in our lives, a great momentum to step out of a house which has witnessed our different states for the last thirty-something years. I wish I could be equally positive about the deconstruction happening in my country or in me as a matter of fact. I feel content, though concluding a phase and stepping out of the bubble I lived through that phase somehow brings all kind of emotions mixed with a few drops of numbness.

The latest journey of de/reconstruction started 8 months ago somewhere in the middle of India with the puja, evolved in several phases in Koh Phangan. Since then, until April I have been sharing my experiences with a group of selected friends from Turkey. Feeling like a child who has found her toy lost ages ago. Sooo long ago that she only has the memories of how it felt while playing with it instead of what the toy looked like; so new, so exciting. That's how sharing my written words felt like to me. I thought about the specific phase; April to July where I didn't write a single word to anyone; first I thought it is the intensity of my life transitioning from ascetic practice to something new, refreshingly exciting pepped up with high-school-quality romance. But then again why being hard on myself, blaming myself for the disconnect. I was simply enjoying being in the moment and didn’t feel like reporting back; my graphomania was replaced by sharing expression through movement with a group of friends and non-friends every Tuesday, by running from one retreat to another, from one class of learning to another class of teaching, by love in all forms and qualities – friendly to kinky;)

Life is intense, my connections are intense in this period. One close encounter follows another. I just finished a spontaneous skype with one of my Guru’s, amazing Laura; another Romanian in my spiritual path. After my first experience with Agama 4,5 years ago, I went straight to Cyprus; started practicing every day which was good. Trying hard to integrate morals and ethics of yoga into my life, which was challenging. My tendency of being hard on myself created tiny little bubbles of confrontation popping up in my consciousness, accumulating so fast and high in number I felt suffocated. Then a funny little story of synchronicity happened. I was having major issues with my boss; my demonic witness. During one of the peak periods of me troubling myself uselessly about these conflicts, this woman happened to stop by at our office to visit our assistant. Although she is not a regular smoker she insisted on going out to the shared balcony between my office and my assistant’s. My assistant was hesitant since she knew I would be practicing yoga during that lunch break and didn’t want to disturb me, but the woman insisted and out of the blue she started talking about problems with seniors, how we cannot change people but only our attitude towards them etc. My assistant listed to her with eyes wide open and stormed into my office after she left; telling me it is time! So Laura entered my life. She simply said “I am here for you” in a very indirect way and I followed her call. Now I may also be able to help her; she may join Agama Yoga Turkey’s intensive camp in November to give and receive, to step out of her own bubble. Let’s see.

It is all still fast, still intense; at home just for a couple of hours and already some deep talks with people, a semi-consultation with Guru and some Agama Yoga Turkey work. It feels good. Tired now but content; even excited about what comes next.