I watched a movie on the plane from Chicago to Istanbul,
Istanbul Kirmizisi: My translation is “The Istanbul Scarlet” however online
translation is “Red Istanbul”, I respectfully disagree. A very powerful movie
that blends together all walks of life in Turkish society into an intermixed
series of personal histories heavily shaped by generational traumas that unfold
very gradually through the movie in moments that are the least expected.
The cast of The scarlet of Istanbul
Orhan who has lived in London for years without visiting
Turkey agrees to help Deniz -a famous director- and Orhan’s friend from his
youth to edit his first book. Deniz, the son of a very old and wealthy
Istanbulite family has been living in a mansion with his mother. His mother has
been struggling with cash shortage and the fading grandeur of their mansion and
status in high society. Orhan finds himself in the middle of Deniz's
complicated relationships, mysterious friends and strange family members, which
leads to a relapse of his alcoholism. Then starts unfolding his own trauma…
True scarlet of Istanbul for those who haven't seen it first hand
I couldn’t help but notice time
and time again how the appearances rarely tell the full story of a
person’s life and what their life is about… A queen-like set of attitudes and
elegance may be hiding deep suffering and poverty. A man a little better
looking than a beggar on the street might have come from the same mansion as
the high society’s “princess? Addiction as the mirror of unresolved trauma… How
Turkish culture encourages avoidance rather than bravely processing and resolving
trauma… Isn’t it the same in many cultures in fact?
Ah, how childhood trauma
is behind everything that we do that forces us to adopt behaviors to push aside the problem of the
moment without resolution of the root cause… Haven’t I seen many patients,
acquaintances and even family members, who couldn’t examine their lives that led
to their premature death, just like in the movie… As the film unfolds, it becomes almost a textbook on trauma, maladaptive behaviors to numb the pain of depression, and prematurely short-cut lives... I wonder if the script writer
had studied adverse childhood experiences that I focus on lately in my teaching
and research. I definitely would watch it one more time.
Istanbul behind the veil of its familiar fog
As I head toward baggage claim, I am paying a renewed
attention to people of many ethnicities that walk past by me; I am more curious
than before about what their story may be. What type of adversity they had
dealt with in the past, what type of resiliency brought them to this very spot
in their lives… Are they happy in this very moment, are they suffering of some impermanent,
sometimes misperceived problem in their minds? I feel that this openness opens
my heart to more loving kindness and space.
Routine crowd with a variety of cultures evident at Istanbul Ataturk Airport
I could never imagine in the past
that simply a new way of looking at life based on wise knowledge could change
our thoughts and emotions so drastically in a relatively short period of time.
And the name of this new way is mindfulness, and its tool, meditation. I am
thankful to Jon Kabut Zihn, whose mindfulness work first convinced me to the
importance and feasibility of this paradigm shift, to Pema Chodron, Thich Nhat
Hanh, Dalai Lama, and many others, who have been teaching millions on earth the
tools of meditation so that more and more of us could lead mindful lives. If
one would like to fight against being judgmental, discrimination, hatred,
anger, anxiety, even sadness, this paradigm shift and its tools are highly
recommended…
If only we could maintain the mindfulness and awareness we cultivate before the beautiful horizons watching the elegant dive of a seagull when we are challenged with emotionally charged situations in daily life...
As I am typing these lines, I am startled with a woman
screaming from the security check point with an accusatory tone in her
screeching voice. As she continues screaming and blaming, a second voice starts
escalating in an angry authoritarian tone, most likely a security officer. I am
glad to see that I automatically start taking deep breaths that prevent me from
getting carried away with judgments of my own, which were pretty frequent in
the past “What do you expect? These angry Turks! I hate this screaming and
screeching! on and on and on…”
I wish some wise publishing house had translated Thich Nhat Hanh's books including this one to Turkish...
This time I am calm and curious without any emotions attached to it, although I can’t help but
think fleetingly “Welcome to Turkey…”. Still some element of judgment there… As
soon as I think this thought, the next one is “This is not Turkey, this is two
individuals who are both ‘trauma triggered’.” At the same time I am thinking of
countless young homeless people screaming exactly the same way on “Reality”
shows on TV channels in the US! This helps me be curious about both
individuals: “What triggered this woman? Could the officer have done or said
something differently that triggered the other one? Could she have approached
the triggered person in a trauma informed and trauma sensitive manner to
prevent the escalation? Could the triggered woman have acted differently had
she been able to understand her trauma, had she been meditating?”… on and on
and on... I will never find out the answers to any of the questions… All I can
do is feel loving kindness for both of them and hope they may be free of
enmity, anxiety, fear, and anger and find peace and happiness in their lives…
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| I wonder if these fiery sunsets make Turkish people as fiery as they are, as we are... I just wish we could keep the fire within limited to our writing, our dancing, our singing, and loving with loving speech and actions... |
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