By: JaTon Kılınç
One morning, I looked out at the open sky as I often do, until a few birds perched on a nearby power line caught my attention. I stopped gazing at the Aegean Sea and watched them instead. They sat high above the ground, unafraid of the height.
It was not the first time I had seen them there. They appear every morning without fail. Yet, for some reason, this time felt different. I observed them with curiosity. I studied their movements and peculiar behavior. They never looked down—only ahead or to the side. Occasionally, they fought over the best view, and to be fair, the views here are indeed spectacular.
What struck me was their confidence. They did not seem to ponder what would happen if they lost their footing as I might have done. Their hearts were not racing from fear of falling. When they had finished peacefully enjoying the morning, they simply spread their wings and flew off into the distance.
Mes amies, I have watched those birds countless times before, but that morning I saw them differently. I saw them as a reflection of life—perhaps even my own.
When I left the United States, I did not wonder if I would fail. I simply decided, and I followed through. Life, I realized, should always be this way: never afraid, never uncertain when it comes to your dreams.
There will be moments when you crave the old and resist the new, but life truly begins when you move beyond your comfort zone.
Here, I have found peace. Admittedly, the internet is sometimes spotty, and the power occasionally cuts off without warning. I stumble over Turkish words and may have once accidentally told someone to “piss off” instead of asking for help. The wind howls like a werewolf during a full moon. Yet despite these quirks, there is a calm here that I never had before.
I like to think it is the slower pace of life that allows me to reflect. I love that when I go for a ride, my Turkish friends shout for me to stop and join them for tea in the middle of the afternoon. I have time to enjoy the sunsets and to sit quietly, staring at the moon.
I cannot quite explain how this land—where East meets West—has managed to restore my balance, but it has. Perhaps it is the hypnotic call to prayer, the beauty of the sea, or the energy of the people, for every place carries its own vibration.
Someone once told me that their college years in Ireland were like “a bomb going off in their heart.” I laughed when I remembered that story. The rain, the gloom, and the cultural contrast made life difficult for them. They were used to basking under the Spanish sun.
I have never been to Ireland, so I cannot speak for their experience. What I can say is that some of my fondest memories were spent in the company of the Irish back home—traveling, laughing, and living freely.
But I digress. What I am truly saying, mes amies, is this: find your bliss—wherever that may be. If you are unhappy with your life, change it. Do not be afraid to live. Do not regret, and do not look back. Spread your wings, keep your eyes ahead, and fly.
Will I stay in Turkey forever? I do not know. I like it here, so perhaps I will keep a small “nest” as a landing pad. While I love to travel, I am not a nomad; I enjoy having a home base.
What I do know is that I love exploring, I love culture, and above all, I love people. My heart may carry me to Romania, to Africa, back to Portugal, or even to France.
No matter where I go, I will continue to spread my wings and let the wind carry me to the place that warms my heart. Above all, I will stay free—free like those birds.
Je suis JaTon 