New Moon

The new moon tonight is told to symbolise "our feelings of Home, safety, our conditionings from childhood, our capability of intimacy. I reread this now in the colorful and lovely banualagoz.blogspot.com as I entered home and plugged in my computer.

I was late for the class(I was there towards the end) but did not miss at least, Banu's special New Moon course of Kundalini Yoga. The affection and the light of Banu embelished the evening. The united force of the participants was heard, their souls together formed this undescribable magnetic field. In my belated first kundalini yoga class, I was between mockery, maze, awe, admiration, peace, purification and lately tears when it came to pour the water behind and receive the new waters of the river.

Two days ago, I decided to stop playing the music I was bored with, embrace my lesson and get ready for the new day and hear the new songs played.

This afternoon, I met Leyla in my sister's new restaurant and was amazed by her energy. Especially her  unexpected way of grabbing people passing by. Her energy to catch "now" and her pleasure of tasting the fusillini pasta.

The yoga class ended singing all together May the Long Time Sun; once for the ones we were leaving behind(tears), once for our "now" and third and last one for our wishes:

"May the long time Sun shine upon you,

All love surround you

And the pure light within you

Guide your way home."

And I have to leave you behind, you that I wrote posts for, in the hope of creating a body of this absence.

May the pure light within you, guide your way home, because I couldn't.

I have a new day tomorrow. As blue as Leyla's eyes.

And I have my arms. My healthy arms.

Reading Wars of Alexander in Peace, at Home

  

Yesterday, I turned off the tv for awhile. I took my books of world history from my library and had a beautiful time reading the Hellenistic wars of Alexander and Persian and had to have some greek coffee.

This afternoon I went on with my reading upstairs in the bed with the company of Thomas and Chocolate.

I enjoyed the peace in our home while reading about the wars in human history.

The way to read, I copied it from a writer I always felt near: Montaigne. His reading is wondering between his books, with no worries and obligation. It is a pure bliss.

If you are as null as I am in history you may be interested in my books:

1- A Little History of the World by Ernst GOMBRICH which I love because it is written for young readers and is the opposite of boring

2- Toute L'Histoire du Monde by Jean Claude BARREAU that enchants you and grabs you from your world and tells a lot about the world history giving the consequences of the story told iin an easy style, as if chatting with a friend.

3- The Old Testament, the reading of which has always been like listening to a piece of Bach.

4- A World History by William H. Mc NEILL.

Hallelujah

(Photos courtesy of Banu since I was busy doing other things)

J'ai atrrapé le bouquet - I caught the (bucket :))

Alors on danse ! - So we dance !

with fave dancing shoes on

 ~ FIN ~

Alors On Danse - So We Dance

Tonight is the wedding night of O.
I decided about my dress and very dancing shoes for the party listening to my favorite party song this year: Alors On Danse from Stomae (Sorry for not being able to attach he video but still you can click here and listen to my song and dance)

I thought of checking the lyrics in the internet and I got even more connected to the song in the morning of today where I will escape from my mundane troubles of home by dancing. Here is my very amateur translation:

Who says study, says work / Qui dit etude, dit travail,
(N/A)Qui dit taf te dit les thunes,

Who says money, says expanses /Qui dit argent dit dépenses,
Who says credit, says beliefs /Qui dit crédit dit créance,
Who says debt, says usher /Qui dit dette te dit huissier,
Yes, says sitting in shit /Oui dit assis dans la merde.
Who says Love, says kids /Qui dit Amour dit les gosses,

Say allways, and say divorce /Dit toujours et dit divorce.
Who says relatives says the grief 'cause problems don't come alone /Qui dit proches te dis deuils car les problèmes ne viennent pas seul.
Who says crisis, says famine, says the one third of the earth /Qui dit crise te dis monde dit famine dit tiers- monde.
Who says fatigue says wake up still deaf from the eve /Qui dit fatigue dit réveille encore sourd de la veille,
Then one goes out to forget about all troubles /Alors on sort pour oublier tous les problèmes.
Then  one dances /Alors on danse… (X9)

And there you say that it is over 'cause worse than this would be dying /Et la tu t'dis que c'est fini car pire que ça ce serait la mort.
When you finally think that you managed it, then there is more /Qu'en tu crois enfin que tu t'en sors quand y en a plus et ben y en a encore!
.. /Ecstasy dis problème les problèmes ou bien la musique.
.. /Ca t'prends les trips ca te prends la tête et puis tu prie pour que ça s'arrête.
But this is your body, it is not the skies, then you shut your ears /Mais c'est ton corps c’est pas le ciel alors tu t’bouche plus les oreilles.
And then you scream even louder and it persists /Et là tu cries encore plus fort et ca persiste...
Then you sing /Alors on chante

Bridal Farewell

We think leaving the tradition behind and live as if life came on earth with our existence only, such a unique experience for each. However I always tought that the rituals of old tradition with our own lives touch are always gathering and fun and nice to have activities. I love the cuteness and the eternal nature of them.

I have posted about hena night before here. On O's hena night, there was something more : a moving bridal farewell poem by her mother written right after her last belongings were sent to her new home, remembering the tiny hands of her baby-girl , now the bride-to-be.

"...My dearest baby, my little lamb with hena
While you are starting a new home and a new life
I request our God to help you
May your be full of sunshine, your heart filled with joy.."

A Bridal Farewell is traditionally cited by the bride's mother on hena night wishing her the best in her new home.

Here is a photo of the single ladies of the party in their costumes, just before escorting the bride-to-be to the hena ceremony singing the old traditional hena song.

"Don't let them build homes on high hills
Don't let them send their daughter's away to far countries
I wish that my father would have a horse and ride here to come to me
That my mother would have a boat, sail here and come
That my siblings would know the way and come
Let the birds that fly know it
I missed my mother
I missed both mother and father
I missed my town"

Bridal Bath

Mom and I are invited for the bridal bath of O (you may know from my last year's post where you may have learned about her marriage proposal)

Bridal Baths (Gelin Hamamı) is an old ottoman tradition of the gathering of the ladies of the families of both the bride and the groom in a turkish bath(hamam) to get the bride-to-be ready for their wedding day.

It is a ladies party all wrapped up in colorful peshtamals(traditional thin towels made by hand wowen looms).

Although we were late and missed the dancing in the center of the steamy bath, we could catch up for the rest of fun and the relaxing steamy bath.

My first experience with a turkish bath has been such a inaginable wellness. The hot tab and the cold one runs into a sink without an output and you sit there by the sink and exfoliate, wash your body by pouring water with the metal bowl next to the sink.  

That was a wonderful day with the thankful presence of childhood friends and mom and lots of steam.

and thoughtful presents of handmade soaps, peshtemals and exfoliators.

Being Thomas

Thomas.. Anyone that has visited our home so far would understand why this post is dedicated to him.

Not many people understood why I was living with Thomas.

And one day my cousin, who has just got divorced, opened up to me, saying "you know how I am now, I am exactly like Thomas". Until that day, I didn't hear anyone who was feeling the same way I was for my pink eared wild cat.

..

When I was asked how many pets did I have, I used to answer: "I have a cat.. and there is the cat of my cat(meaning Thomas)". He was so wild that when they moved here in this appartment with me, Thomas did not let me touch him, not even let me get near for at least 8 months . He would hiss.

It was funny, I was feeding him and was yet quite scared of him at nights when I was alone with him. It was a matter of guts to leave the bedroom's door open when I was going to sleep.

I must even confess that there has been times when I was hoping that he would get lost or fall down so that I would get rid of him in a way I wouldn't do anything wrong against him.

Even as a kitten he was fierce (click here to see the video), I was unable to feed him with its kitten bottle, since my hands were scratched so badly, by reflex I wasn't able to hold its tiny body in my hand.

Before we saw him, we heard him. It was the voice of some weeks old kitten. He cried for 2 complete days, constantly. His mother never showed up. He was left to die.

Our siamese cat Chocolate insisted on having the kitten inside, coming and going to the kitchen door to him, begging for something from us. So Thomas was taken in  not only to be cured but was supported because he was the friend of our friend Chocolate, our soulful siamese cat.

Thomas had his name from a swiss journalist I knew, looking exactly like him when he was a litttle kitten. We couldn't warm him up nor heal him despite the efforts of the vet. The thing that saved him has been Chocolate.

So Thom learned everything through Chocolate, and thus he needed so less even nothing from us. So, he was never tamed.

When visitors would come he would get lost. It took him long to show up in my presence even.

In years, he learned to get near. He would meow, restlessly, would yearn for that touch but was terrified by any attempt. 

Thomas has been the perfect picture for me how scary we are when we are scared of nearness and trust and how we would hurt the hands coming to us. How many had I torn till I surrendered in love?

A wise man told me once that trust is a link that has to be started by one taking the risk. So there were times where I took the risk by letting him smell my hands, put my face near to his.

Today Thomas has still his caves at our home, his favorite spots away.

There are mornings where I wake up and find him awake, just some centimeters from my nose, staring at me, probably while I am sleeping.

I love him.

..Missing his glance when I am out. 

Love him even more when in any condition he would run to come to me when he is called or when my chest gets wet from dribbles from his mouth when I cudddle him.

It took long, it took work and unconditional giving for those dribbles of pure trust.

My Home as a Tupperware Catalog

I lately found the winter 2008-2009 catalog at home while organising to get ready for the moving. And I remember the day I received it and how magical it felt to see that it was as if Tupperware published my home that season.  This absolute feeling of completeness is called happiness.

We buy products looking at some photos, commercials, catalogs, envying that life in there, that home. And we want, we want to have these people, be these people, have these products, the decoration in the pictures, that life which are there for the photo shoots ad commercials and soon to be demounted.

What if the life you mounted, your home appears to be what those catalog tried to capture?

What if when you loose it?

What if when you find your self able to mount many lives, many beautiful homes out of yourself?

What if all catalogs vanish?

What if you are robust but not necessarily complete all the time?

This is the way I feel today. And this is what this blog has been the log, the story of this humble achievement.