First, my hometown Ankara became the victim of a terrorist attack, which claimed the lives of 30 innocent people.
Three weeks later, a separate attack killed 37 more, right in the heart of the city. As the names of the victims were revealed one by one, what used to be mere statistics slowly turned into faces and stories. Stories of people just like you, just like me, who happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.
Then, just a few days ago, Brussels got hit by the same source. And Sunday, Lahore.
For this or that reason, which is a discussion for another day and another blog post, the effects of the Brussels attack created a much larger ripple effect, and once again, spurred a wider conversation about terrorism, and what it means to be human, and how these are attacks not on just one nation or one group of people, but rather on humanity.
***
There's a famous quote by Harper Lee; "Until I feared I would lose it, I never loved to read. One does not love breathing."
I think this quote speaks to a widespread human condition of not being able to appreciate the things we have, all the things going well in our lives, the important things that have the potential of keeping us together as the human race.
It wasn't until someone blew himself and 32 others up, that we started reciting the phrases we've heard time and again.
"We need to stick together as...", "My heart goes out to..." and more.
It wasn't until our global safety, security, and perhaps most importantly, sense of humanity reached the verge of extinction that we started (or re-started) conversations about what it means to be human and the need to stick together during times of dismay, just like the one that we're currently in.
It isn't until we lose something, that we realize how essential that thing that we lost was to our being.
***
Throughout the week, I find myself getting lost in my mind, overthinking the smallest things, complaining or venting about work, about living in the city, about the difficulty of meeting someone, the difficulty of this, the difficulty of that.
I do try to be mindful. If I'm lucky enough to catch myself doing it, chances are, I'll give myself a reality check. The tricky part is that I am unable to catch myself each time I fall into this vortex, which is when it becomes a problem. Sometimes, it takes someone else to snap me out of it. Most of the time though, it requires a conscious effort on my part.
Friends who are about to move out of NY serve as a good example. Knowing that they will soon be leaving the city, they create bucket lists of all the things they want to do, to see, to taste, to hear. All the things they haven't experienced while still living here for an indeterminate amount of time. Now, knowing that their time left here is finite with a foreseeable end date, they suddenly want to take advantage of the island that they'd been living on, without fully immersing themselves in it.
It isn't until we lose something that we realize its importance to our being.
***
It isn't until we lose something that we realize its importance to our being. But, there are some lessons we can learn from others who have lost (or perhaps never even possessed) things that the majority of us hold so dear, without having to go through the experience of losing them ourselves. Through the sharing of the loss or absence of such things, we may be able to help each other.
***
Last week, I met Zach Anner, an award-winning comedian who's hosted shows on the Oprah Winfrey Network, Soulpancake, as well as his own YouTube channel.
Zach was born with cerebral palsy, which, at first, sounds like a big obstacle that would get in anyone's way of accomplishing even the most basic tasks during a typical day. This isn't the case for Zach.
Meeting him was one of the most inspirational interactions I've had in a long time. It made me realize two very important things.
The first takeaway was that there are very few things in the world that are true limitations. Most things we think are limitations are limitations because we believe them to be so.
Zach says that his inability to hide the fact that he's committed to a wheelchair is actually a strength, not a weakness. He says that there's something in each one of us that we try to hide from the rest of the world, as we put versions of ourselves that we'd like to be or think others would like us to be out into the world. This is not a criticism, but rather an observation about a very human tendency that majority of us share.
While growing up, the thing that Zach wanted to hide used to be his wheelchair for a long time. Perhaps the most relieving moment in his life was when he came to terms with the fact that he was never going to be able to hide the chair. Therefore, he decided to embrace it and teach the rest of the world that Zach Anner came with a wheelchair. Accepting what he used to consider as an obstacle to be part of his identity, Zach felt liberated.
Accepting that he will likely never appear on the cover of GQ freed him of all the noise out in the world telling him to look a certain way, to eat a certain way, and exercise a certain way.
Hearing him speak, I had a moment of clarity in realizing that most of the so-called limitations and obstacles I feel imposed upon me are actually imposed upon me because I choose to let them be so.
I, not anyone else, have the power to decide what can and cannot have that influence on me.
We, the people who want to live in a safer, more humane, more just world, have the power to dictate the dialogue on what direction we're headed towards. We can't do that if we're sensitive to only the pains of a certain group of people living in a certain part of the world. Superficial, hypocritical, surface-level concerns will not do. I'm not saying we have the power to end terrorism on a global scale, which would be a naive claim to make. I am saying, however, that the reason why these attacks are so scary, powerful, and "successful" is that the people carrying them are attached to each other and truly, deeply, and fully devoted to the cause. Call this Pollyannaish, but I believe that if feelings of hatred have the power to bring about such terror, feelings of empathy have a much bigger power to bring about change in the opposite direction.
The second takeaway, which is more a reminder, was about adjusting my attitude towards daily struggles.
Zach told us a story of the time he skydived, which he described so eloquently that it landed a permanent place in my heart. He was going through a rough couple of weeks at the time he decided to jump off a plane miles above ground. A few seconds after jumping, he got to that point where it felt like he was floating mid-air and suddenly, everything around him became silent. He looked down to see the streets and trees and houses and lakes, all tiny, all perfectly aligned within the larger landscape. He found it amazing how problems that seemed too huge to deal with just a few minutes ago, suddenly seemed so unimportant in the greater scheme of things. He realized that at the end of the day, things usually work out; and even when they don't, Nature (or whatever else you want to call that "thing") has a way of helping us until, ultimately, we find a way to work them out.
I haven't quite figured out how this fits into the snapshot of the world that I've tried to take earlier in this post. Perhaps, it's my way of telling myself that we are currently at the part where we just boarded the plane with all of our concerns and worries and frustrations. Perhaps, the clarity that comes when we jump off, is just around the corner. Perhaps, there's a better interpretation. I'm not sure.
I am, however sure of a few things. I'm thankful to be alive, to be in a healthy body with a healthy mind, to be living in one of the most exciting cities in the world, to be able to come home to a warm home at the end of each day, and to have people I love, care about, and love and care about me in my life.
I know I said it isn't until we lose something that we realize its importance to our being, but perhaps I was wrong. I realize the importance of all the things that I just listed up there, and I am so very thankful that they are still mine to claim.
Meeting him was one of the most inspirational interactions I've had in a long time. It made me realize two very important things.
The first takeaway was that there are very few things in the world that are true limitations. Most things we think are limitations are limitations because we believe them to be so.
Zach says that his inability to hide the fact that he's committed to a wheelchair is actually a strength, not a weakness. He says that there's something in each one of us that we try to hide from the rest of the world, as we put versions of ourselves that we'd like to be or think others would like us to be out into the world. This is not a criticism, but rather an observation about a very human tendency that majority of us share.
While growing up, the thing that Zach wanted to hide used to be his wheelchair for a long time. Perhaps the most relieving moment in his life was when he came to terms with the fact that he was never going to be able to hide the chair. Therefore, he decided to embrace it and teach the rest of the world that Zach Anner came with a wheelchair. Accepting what he used to consider as an obstacle to be part of his identity, Zach felt liberated.
Accepting that he will likely never appear on the cover of GQ freed him of all the noise out in the world telling him to look a certain way, to eat a certain way, and exercise a certain way.
Hearing him speak, I had a moment of clarity in realizing that most of the so-called limitations and obstacles I feel imposed upon me are actually imposed upon me because I choose to let them be so.
I, not anyone else, have the power to decide what can and cannot have that influence on me.
We, the people who want to live in a safer, more humane, more just world, have the power to dictate the dialogue on what direction we're headed towards. We can't do that if we're sensitive to only the pains of a certain group of people living in a certain part of the world. Superficial, hypocritical, surface-level concerns will not do. I'm not saying we have the power to end terrorism on a global scale, which would be a naive claim to make. I am saying, however, that the reason why these attacks are so scary, powerful, and "successful" is that the people carrying them are attached to each other and truly, deeply, and fully devoted to the cause. Call this Pollyannaish, but I believe that if feelings of hatred have the power to bring about such terror, feelings of empathy have a much bigger power to bring about change in the opposite direction.
The second takeaway, which is more a reminder, was about adjusting my attitude towards daily struggles.
Zach told us a story of the time he skydived, which he described so eloquently that it landed a permanent place in my heart. He was going through a rough couple of weeks at the time he decided to jump off a plane miles above ground. A few seconds after jumping, he got to that point where it felt like he was floating mid-air and suddenly, everything around him became silent. He looked down to see the streets and trees and houses and lakes, all tiny, all perfectly aligned within the larger landscape. He found it amazing how problems that seemed too huge to deal with just a few minutes ago, suddenly seemed so unimportant in the greater scheme of things. He realized that at the end of the day, things usually work out; and even when they don't, Nature (or whatever else you want to call that "thing") has a way of helping us until, ultimately, we find a way to work them out.
I haven't quite figured out how this fits into the snapshot of the world that I've tried to take earlier in this post. Perhaps, it's my way of telling myself that we are currently at the part where we just boarded the plane with all of our concerns and worries and frustrations. Perhaps, the clarity that comes when we jump off, is just around the corner. Perhaps, there's a better interpretation. I'm not sure.
I am, however sure of a few things. I'm thankful to be alive, to be in a healthy body with a healthy mind, to be living in one of the most exciting cities in the world, to be able to come home to a warm home at the end of each day, and to have people I love, care about, and love and care about me in my life.
***
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