Feeling tired from talking, I take a deep breath. The thing that breaks the silence in the room becomes my psychologist’s question.
“Have you read The Alchemist?”
“I haven’t.”
With a pleased expression on her face, she leans back slightly in her chair.
“Then first, I will briefly tell you a story that I read there.”
I blink my eyes in agreement, and she begins to tell the story.
“A merchant sends his son to a wise man to learn the secret of happiness. The young man goes into the desert for 40 days and arrives at the mansion of the wise man. He opens to the wise man, but the wise man first asks him to explore his magnificent house filled with works of art. In the meantime, he hands the young man a spoonful of oil and tells him not to spill it. When the young man returns from his tour, the wise man asks him which works of art he saw, but the young man realizes that he didn’t pay attention to his surroundings in order not to spill the oil in the spoon. The wise man sends him off again, this time asking him to observe his surroundings. When he returns, he describes the beauties he witnessed, but when he looks at the spoon, he sees that the oil has spilled. Then the wise man says, ‘The secret of happiness is to see the marvels of the world, but without forgetting the two drops of oil in the spoon.’“
A short silence fills the gap, and my mind becomes filled with thoughts. My psychologist leaves me alone with my own thoughts as if she wants that. I can’t really say that this is a story in a style I have never heard before; most of the advice I receive from people in life is of this nature. However, it sounds as useless as telling someone who doesn’t know how to swim, “Go ahead, swim!” It’s not about receiving long lectures; I need someone to show me the way.
“You don’t have to be black or white; there are shades of colors in between. Neither taking no responsibilities nor escaping from suffering are solutions to enjoying life. At the same time, we cannot live our lives completely detached from life and only within the framework of our responsibilities. The issue is finding the color that suits us among these. Light gray or anthracite… You will find it because everyone has their own unique path.”
I understand that my mind is quite confused. As someone who has lived with a somewhat binary mindset of “either all or nothing” until now, I am aware that finding the middle ground is not easy for me, but I wonder if others are aware of that too. That’s what I can’t be sure of. Once again, I am faced with someone who tells me what I need to do but leaves the end open.
“Right now, you are probably thinking about how you can find your way, but you don’t really have a clue, am I right?”
My facial expressions and actions must be conveying my thoughts very well, or maybe this woman is just very good at her job. In a few seconds of silence, she seems to be reading the thoughts swirling in my mind.
“Everyone tells me general phrases like ‘Enjoy life’ or ‘See the beauties,’ but it’s not something that can be easily done by just someone saying it. That’s exactly what they don’t understand.”
She smiles at me with affection without taking her eyes off me. “You’re right, these things cannot be achieved by someone simply saying them. Sometimes, a story someone tells you, a word they say, or even a glance can be a catalyst for change for you. Despite its simplicity, it can turn into events that make lightning strike in your mind. But it’s up to you to find it. I will only give you a few clues.”
As she finishes speaking, she stands up, opens the curtains of the window a little wider, and then opens the window.
The weather is slightly sunny, but rain is also drizzling. “Look, even the sun and rain have found the middle ground; they are in harmony.”
As I look out the window, I see a sparkle in her eyes. The expression on her face suddenly becomes softer. I am genuinely affected by it, and I also get up and walk towards her.
“I want you to observe the people outside after you leave here. It will help you find your own path, even if only a little.”
She looks at me believingly, and I can feel it. Maybe as someone who is very successful in her profession, she is trying to make me feel that way, but I choose to believe the first possibility. After a short but sincere smile in response, I realize that our session has come to an end.
Taking my bag and jacket, I head towards the door, but I turn around as she asks one more question.
“Do you have an umbrella?”
“No, but I can get one immediately. Thank you for reminding me.”
“On the contrary, I was going to say, if you have one, don’t use it. This will be my first clue for you. Don’t use an umbrella.”
I pause for a few seconds, not expecting such a thing, but then I affirm and leave her room. I can’t help but think, “What a strange woman!”
As soon as I step out of the building and feel the rain on my head and face, I decide to listen to what she said.
As I start walking, I remember what my psychologist said about observing people and being careful not to bump into them on the sidewalk. I begin to examine people, like watching a movie, without advancing much.
I compare myself to them and realize how much I have missed. Until now, I have only focused on reaching my destination. The pleasant expressions on people’s faces as raindrops fall on them, the joy of children happily jumping in puddles, the positive energy that the sun’s beautiful rays give. I have ignored these beauties in order not to spill the oil in the spoon.
While the marvels of the world prove themselves to us every moment, it turns out that I am the one who has put a veil over my eyes and made my life stagnant. With these realizations, I take a deep breath and then turn my gaze to the window where I was just watching the outside with my psychologist.
We meet eyes a few seconds later as she is still observing the busy street. I respond to the expression on her face that reflects her satisfaction with a warm smile of my own. She smiles with gratitude, and I thank her, but this time with my eyes.
A saying from Master Bediüzzaman emerges in my mind: “Contemplation eliminates heedlessness.”[1]
[1] Bediüzzaman Said Nursî, Mesnevî-i Nûriye, İstanbul: Şahdamar Yayınları, 2007, s. 133.
