Turkish Tarzans~

We woke up late (a luxury we are most definitely NOT allowing ourselves to get used to). Breakfast with our brothers. Add a new guest couple, recently moved in, to the mix…blessings abound. Carbo-loaded, laughter infused, energy boosted and charged with caffeine (Turbo-style Turkish, of course), and we are ready to greet this day.

Our morning swim across the channel has never felt so good. The current was strong, but we were stronger. The ocean’s pull was a welcome resistance, providing a challenge—something to shoot for and overcome…a goal. And, when we finished—fully spent—too tired for troubles—no energy left to waste on worry…we thanked Jah for all the cares castoff—collected now at the bottom of that salty sea—having slicked off our slight shoulders in the somewhere in between~

Morning melted into afternoon. Days here dally about; yet somehow we fill the time. Fellowship, peace, sunshine, and laughter—all merge as we go about our work in a moderate manner. Languid lengths of hours…merging into one 24 segment cycle.

Evening time now. Not yet night, and the morning having made its quiet exit long ago…the slight lull lingering in the space now left. What to do? Are we hungry? Not yet…the bountiful breakfast became brunch (and quite possibly will suffice for dinner as well if the fullness and satiety of our stomachs has its say). In fact, we can imagine its say would go something along the lines of: “lütfen! artık”….(“PLEASE, NO MORE!”) J We realize that we should probably write something today, but here at the hotel our family is such fun, not much penmanship or productivity is projected to occur. To town we go, then…

One dolma down (that’s a Turkish bus…and...after the first, we believe we may only “need” one, as our legs are suddenly not so tired anymore…* funny how claustrophobia, cramped spaces and odiferous aromas of various unidentified genres--and origins--can do that…*)…and we are deposited into the depths of the bustling, big town (try to contain your excitement..I know…it’s alot to take in all at once). From the one grocer, to the two main (and only!) drags, one really must pace themselves to absorb it all J

Okay! Focus, Ponopeople, we are writing tonight! Hmm…surveying the town square (which, we have to admit, is ROCKIN’ tonight!) we see that the town is represented in full force…all twelve of them. Woo-hoo *hands raised, fists pumpin’—fanfare *. Productivity and writing in mind, we skirt around the square’s edge in search of a place to perch our poetic awesomeness. There! Spotted!—a little corner of bench right by the sea…far enough away from the crowd, yet still enough atmosphere around to inspire—we have arrived! We launch into writing mode…Notepad: CHECK! Pen: CHECK! Lucky handmade ring from Ari: CHECK! Water: CHECK (hey, this writing can be tough..one must stay hydrated!) Black and white spotted feline friend avec notebook: What the (C)HECK?.... and enter our new kitty co-pilot. * Fabulous * just wonderful…now, if we could just have you, Miss Kitty, scoot over a * tad * …so we could * maybe * just see one corner of our paper…yes, thank you, that would be SUPER…* sigh*~

After humoring the little furry freeloader (yes, we fed her too….such pushovers), we sent her on her way, and set our focus back to work. Pen poised, we pondered plot, characters, setting, rising action, falling action, and climax... * as in, the head trauma we just underwent as the band of biker boys, avec little sisters in tow..avec SPLAYED SOCCER BALLS…awesome! BUMP THAT—literally (we are assuming they had the same idea…) * sigh *~ As we turn to give them all an EVIL “Hey what the HOO?” glare-with-a-nostril-flare!---our eyes rest upon the cutest, most adorable, infectiously endearing imp that we have ever seen. * Goners *…..we smile despite ourselves—In that instant the throb of our (now dinosaur egged) heads dissipating.

* Sigh…* ...* smile *... *sigh *…..Resigned, we allow ourselves to revel in the rambunctious rowdiness that is now enveloping us. Looking around at this tribe of tiny Turkish Tarzans, we know we are surrounded…we drop the pen, and reach for our camera (our own version of raising the white flag)… and surrender, swept up in the silly sounds and sweetness of youthful bliss….we are being held captive-ated~

Chicken Sits~

I have been thinking of the role of parenting often lately. Pretty much, wherever I look in life, it has been at the forefront of my mind. From taking joy in my closest friends’ (and family’s!) newly announced pregnancies, to both witnessing (and being a * not always welcoming * recipient of) parental “care and concern,”...it appears to flank me on all sides. J

I am at that magical age in life (actually, the more I think of it…when are we NOT?) when parents (and all other surrounding parties/ friends/ loved ones) feel the need to offer “help” and guidance in my “finding my way” in life. Whether it be relationship advice, financial planning tips, career guidance, or even the occasional * gasp * “intimacy admonishments”—our parents/ loved ones are always waiting and ready to pounce * ahem *--“gently” proffer their priceless pearls of wisdom~

Protection is one of the main themes I see flowing like a golden thread in the universal cosmic connection that people (parents especially) all share with one another in relating to their loved ones. Yes, protection—that dogged desire to tenaciously guard those we love from any and all possible and unknown threats…even when they have not asked for it…and quite often when they altogether vehemently oppose it!

A chance encounter that I had the blessing of happening upon strikes a vivid picture and analogy for this concept in my mind. About a week ago, I had traveled across the island to drop off a friend at his house. He lives out in the country, and as I rode up and parked in the driveway, I noticed in the corner of my view a mother hen surrounded by a cackle of baby chicks.

He had to go inside to pick up a few things, and I settled in to wait for him. As I waited, I kept my eye on the small processional of poultry that was making their way towards my vehicle. Remembering I had my camera in my backpack, I unbuckled my seatbelt to reach for it. At that moment, the mother, upon hearing the click, frantically placed herself in between my car and her babies…one by one, she clamored to collect her offspring beneath the folds of her feathers. The babies seemed mostly annoyed and frustrated with her antics. Some even appeared frightened by the vehemence in the execution of her protective instincts. The mother would chase and scoop, hem and holler…and then actually SIT on top of the chicks as she bore them to her breast. Try as they might to escape, the mother was dogged in her efforts and eventually grappled them all, managing to cover them within the safe confines of her person completely. As the drama unfolded, I was just taking it all in—realizing how much we have in common…poultry and people~

As I continued to watch, I ran the gamut of emotions. I was at once humored, saddened, angered, puzzled, and enlightened. I FELT and empathized with the baby chickens…the frustration, the oppression, the confinement (they were being SMOTHERED by gosh!) I know all too well that desperate desire to run away and just be FREE! (I also know what it feels like to sense someone sitting (or sh**tng!) on you)…not good….not good at all~

To be fair, however, I also sensed and empathized with the mother hen’s situation…she perceived danger and was attempting to do everything in her power to keep her babies safe. Her desire to nurture, to protect at all costs, to have her children’s best at heart and pursue that best violently…courageously….FIERCELY even—is breathtakingly beautiful and awe-inspiring to me.

My companion returned and I regretfully started the ignition, pulling into reverse. As I backed the car away, I strained to watch the little family as long as I could.

The last I was able to see, the bittersweet struggle still ensued…