
I’ve now spent four full weeks in Turkey, first on the outskirts of the small sea side village of Kerpe where the rock cliffs and caves are a playground for the adventurous, and now on the outskirts of the small lake side village called Keramet. But it wasn’t until arriving here, in the home of a former Turkish historical tour guide, that I’ve begun to get a real sense of the history of this land. This past week has been spent listening to the stories and history lessons that my new hostess has seen fit to share with me, and I’ve been an attentive student; soaking it up

I feel as if I’m living out the book Eat, Pray, Love in my own unique way. Before I left for Turkey I’d written that my goals for this trip were, “To explore my relationships with food, with myself, and with others.” At the time, I didn’t give this statement a lot of thought — it was simply what had come to me as being the purpose for my journey. I had no way of understanding the depth or power of those simple goals when I wrote them, but I’m beginning to see it now.

A few days ago a young family with a little girl arrived at Nar Organic Farm here in Turkey. Yanna is a beautiful little thing, and like most five year olds she is curious, adventurous and into everything. She’s also become a great teacher and inspiration to me; a reminder of how wonderful life can be when every day is filled with mystery, wonder, and the opportunity to do something new.

I thought I understood what a “simple pleasure” was before arriving in Turkey, but I’ve quickly come to realize that I didn’t understand the term at all. Being so completely out of my element and out of my comfortable routine has created an environment in which I’m fully experiencing the events and interactions in each day. What I’m finding is that because I have nothing else preoccupying my mind, it’s easy to recognize, acknowledge and embrace the things that I would normally rush through and in my haste, would miss the enjoyment of.
Yesterday was such a whirlwind of activity that it’s hard to remember much more than endless hours on airplanes, subways, trams, and ferrys. But as I site here on the bus, waiting for our departure to Kandı I am having a rare moment to just “be” in the moment.
The radio is playing what I can only describe as soft Turkish pop music. There is an overpowering odor of incense — an earthy, musky, Eastern smell; sandalwood mixed with….something. The ferry’s are bustling with activity, loading and unloading cars and passengers making their way, mostly to, the Golden Horn.

Making significant life changes is never easy — especially if you’re stepping out into new territory. John and I are struggling with this very issue and have been for a number of years. I’m ashamed to admit it, but yes, it’s taken us four or five years of serious day dreaming and wishful thinking to get to where we are now. And where we are isn’t all that far — we’re still working through the fear, doubt, and “what if’s”, but we’re finally making plans to move forward with our dreams.