It’s been almost a year since I dared to dive into the enchantment of writing.
I’ve seen dozens of unpublished and unfinished drafts in the drafts section. I haven’t felt the need to look back. Because I feel like a stranger to the old writings. The same feeling hit me when I recently glanced at my diary from when I was 18. It was as if I was reading someone else’s writings. How quickly we change and how rapidly we become strangers to ourselves.
After surpassing the milestone of 30, and achieving everything I aimed for in my early youth, a growing sense of emptiness settled within me. This feeling turned me into a robotic figure, devoid of emotions, constantly completing the tasks listed in front of me amid the hustle and bustle of daily life. Perhaps that’s why, for the past year, I’ve been contemplating the concept of happiness.
The world beyond the cycle we live in often feels like a vast sea that we watch with either fear or admiration. Our feelings largely determine the life we live. The void within me, deepening as I’ve grown older, led me to question the meaning of happiness in the past year.
More often than not, those who break out of this cycle evoke either fear or admiration from us, depending on our perspective. Though they may be labeled as crazy or losers by the majority, I believe they deserve applause for being different from the repetitive norms.
The stagnation of my emotions, views, and identity, constantly revolving in a fixed and unchanging pattern, terrifies me. I find myself reintroducing me at certain junctures, and that’s why my past often seems unfamiliar. Currently, the excitement of the second life, where writing is the sole source of vitality, fills me with hope, and I’m starting to take the first steps with great expectations. I hope that constant new steps will follow in the coming days.
It is essential to swiftly move towards new people, new places, new jobs, new books, new music, new tastes, new pains, and new emotional fluctuations. I understand that staying in one place provides a sense of security, but believe me, you wouldn’t want to be too late to give a chance to the voice within you that still wants to live before you die. For this, you’ll undoubtedly discover the joy of living.
For the new writings I produce, the new discoveries I make, the new beds I wake up in, and the new people I touch, let Rumi say it again:
It’s good to leave each day behind,Rumi
Like flowing water, free of sadness.
Yesterday is gone and its tale told.
Today new seeds are growing.