A Path Called Me

Category: Uncategorized

  • Happiness

    I did read many books in a search for happiness. I wanted to really understand what I should do to be happy. Every book had some kind of explanation for me, but none was actually telling me what to do to be truly happy. I thought if I learned from others and followed the advice they shared, I would be constantly happy. And instead of feeling better and happier, I was more frustrated and disappointed. No matter what I followed, everything had an end. Because somehow, not only wasn’t I happy, but I was also ashamed of not being happy, because everyone seemed like they were happy, and I wasn’t.

    I got tired of learning and searching more about happiness. Every book gave me something. I have learned a lot from all sorts of people. And this knowledge will stay with me forever.

    Most of my life, I thought happiness depended on what I had, or where I lived, or how fit I was. Being in a relationship was another factor in my happiness. And yes, all that gave me happiness. Being surrounded by loving people and nice things at home gave me happy moments. But we all know that all of that is only temporary. One day we have everything we wanted, we are in a loving relationship, and the next day all of that can disappear. And with that, our happiness is gone. I wanted my happiness to stay even if people left, even if I couldn’t have everything I wanted, even if I lost things, even if I was in pain.

    After years of research and my personal experiences, I created my own definition of happiness. For me, happiness is the consistency of keeping promises to myself. When I follow that, no matter what is happening in my life, no matter the problems I am going through, when I do what I said to myself I would do, I feel okay. I feel good about myself even when someone disappoints me, even when something I was waiting for is not happening, even when I feel ill. I know one thing: I stayed aligned with what I said I would do. For me, that is enough to stay happy no matter what.

  • Who am I?

    I asked that question many times. I listened to others, observed them, and tried to be like them. I heard the same advice over and over: Be yourself. But I didn’t know who that person was. So instead of becoming myself, I became even less myself.

    I was told that sitting in a quiet place, closing my eyes, and listening would allow my soul to speak—to show me who I really am. So I tried. At first, I heard voices that were not mine. They were the voices of other people. I thought that was me, and I got even more lost. I kept thinking, trying to figure it out, and I felt worse. I couldn’t hear myself. My mind was too busy, too overwhelmed. All I was doing was thinking—and that was not the way to hear myself.

    So I gave up.

    And then a miracle happened.

    I heard my soul speak to me.

    Slowly, I dug myself out from the rubble of other people’s opinions, from the programs I had learned to live by, from old fears, from choosing what I liked, and what I thought I liked while trying to please others.

    They say that when we turn forty, we go through a life crisis. For me, it wasn’t a crisis. It was a reminder of who I truly am.

    Now I am not pretending to be who I am. I simply am myself.

    Instead of spending my time on social media or television, I spend more time with myself—doing what I love and discovering what else I want and can do with my life. I am no longer worried about what people may say, whether they like me, or whether they stay in my life. For the first time, I am living my life for myself. And whoever joins me will stay because of my true self.

    I feel ease and joy most of the time. I like myself. I appreciate myself deeply.

    For me, this is great freedom.

    I sit in meditation every day to remember who I am, because returning to myself feels like home.

  • Motherhood, for G.

    Before you came into my life, I believed my world was already whole. I didn’t even know how much I needed you for my soul’s evolution. I thought I was happy, living a good and comfortable life.

    Before I had you, I believed I didn’t want or need you. But when the miracle happened—when I discovered I was pregnant—I didn’t know what to feel. I was afraid, surprised, and certain this wasn’t part of the plan. But the moment I heard your heartbeat, I knew something magical was happening.

    As you were growing in my belly (and I was growing too 😊), I was filled with joy and happiness. Then, after 20 hours of labor, I saw you for the first time. At first, I saw you not with my eyes, but with my heart—with my soul. I couldn’t believe that you came from my body. My mind couldn’t comprehend it. I understood the biology and the science, but witnessing the birth of new life felt like pure magic.

    I think that the miracle of carrying a baby beneath your heart—and then holding that little human in your arms—is no longer treated as the miracle it truly is. But for me, it was. It was sacred. It was magic. And I knew you were a gift—one I never asked for, but one that changed my life, my perceptions, and who I am as a person.

    In those first moments, I didn’t fully understand this miracle of life. Then I looked at you again—this time with my mind—and I thought, She doesn’t look like me or her dad at all—did they give me the wrong baby? But of course, that wasn’t so. We were both exhausted, and you had just entered the world—it was perfectly normal.

    I remembered that when I first found out I was pregnant, I asked God only for you to be healthy, and maybe to have my lips and your dad’s eyes. When I saw you for the first time, you had neither. But within a few days, I noticed you had my lips. And for your dad’s eyes, I waited a little longer—but yes, you have them too.

    Becoming a mother changed everything. I used to think that when we plan to have babies, we can somehow prepare ourselves for motherhood. But it doesn’t work that way. You can’t truly prepare—you learn day by day what it means to be a mother. And just when I think I’ve figured it out, something new appears to teach me again.

    That’s not just motherhood—that’s life.

    Even though being a parent isn’t easy, the love for a child never changes. It’s unconditional. Every day, I do my best to be a good mother and a good example for you. Some days go well, some days not so much. But I do my best—because that’s what love does.

  • And just like that, one day I simply understood.

    Everything I had been through suddenly made sense — all the pain, all the hardship, all the tears. It was my soul trying to teach me how to love myself. Every trigger, every painful emotion was there for me to learn from, to remember that I didn’t have to search for love —I needed to learn how to receive and ask for love. And most importantly, how to become love itself.

    Giving was always easy for me, but I never knew how to receive it. And by only giving and not being able to take, my whole being was growing weaker. I’ve changed so much because of how my life has unfolded and because of the people who have crossed my path along the way. Now, all of it makes beautiful sense.

    There was a time when I closed my heart so tightly that my soul didn’t want to stay in this body anymore — I almost died. There wasn’t enough love left for me or for life itself. But I prayed. I said to God: If there is still something for me here to do or learn, then I will gladly stay. More than anything, I wanted to be a witness to my daughter growing up, to see her become a mother, and to experience all that life would bring.

    I wanted to stay with all my heart, not realizing then that my heart was closed and filled with coldness. Now I understand that what happened was a kind of wake-up call — a reminder that I am still a kind and loving person, that I still carry deep understanding and compassion for other people’s hardships.

    I don’t know what life will bring me, but I do know that whatever happens, I will face it with an open heart, trusting that I am always protected. Because living from the heart is so much more fulfilling than trying to control or predict everything. The truth is, the most beautiful and meaningful things in my life have come out of nowhere — unexpected gifts from God.

    We think we know what we want, but do we really? I thought I did, but now I see that I didn’t. What I know now is that, no matter what is happening in the world, I choose to live my life with an open heart — because that is who we truly are.
    We are Love in its most magnificent form.

  • Joy

    I used to think that I needed to be happy to feel joy. It seemed impossible to be joyful when I thought I wasn’t happy. But I realized that’s not true.

    A while ago, I was in the hospital, very sick. Even though I didn’t feel happy, there were so many moments when I felt joy. I came to understand that joy and happiness are not the same—joy lives deeper, beyond moods or circumstances.

    It seems like everyone is searching for happiness—I was one of those people. But I’m not anymore. Because one day I’m happy, and another day I’m sad or exhausted, yet even on those days, I can always find something that gives me joy.

    When I’m sad, my daughter has a gift for making me laugh—and in that moment, I feel joy. When I’m exhausted, I feel joy when I lie down in bed and my body can finally relax. That’s an amazing revelation.

    Every day, even on the worst day, there’s always a small moment of joy. I collect those moments now, and every night before I go to sleep, I think about them. And that makes me feel happy.

    So I guess we can be happy or unhappy—it’s just a choice and a matter of recognizing what’s in front of us at the moment. I used to live without knowing that it’s okay to laugh even in the most critical situations. We came into this world to live joyfully and to experience life.

    There’s no one in this world without a wound or a scar. But that doesn’t mean life is only bad. It just means we’re human. Those hurtful events make us stronger and wiser, helping us make better decisions in the future.

    The truth is, somehow we remember the good times and joyful moments—at least I do. When I look back on my past, I see good and joyful memories. There’s no reason to dwell on what wasn’t good.

    I surround myself with happy pictures and positive people, and there’s so much joy in my life now. If I find myself slipping into negativity, I know it’s my job to change that. It’s not about what other people do or what’s happening in the world—it’s about me, my thoughts, and my choice to seek, find, and see joy and miracles everywhere I look.

  • Words

    A little while ago, I thought I had so much to say, but no one to listen. So, I found another way to let it all out and express my thoughts. I started journaling, and after that, I began to write a blog. And then, words started to flow.

    It’s such a powerful thing — to express yourself through words. Words are very powerful. Not only the ones we speak, but also the ones we think and the ones we write. They help us express our feelings, name our experiences, and connect with others.

    But words can also hurt and break. Too often, we use them to make someone smaller, to punish, or to wound. Yet, with words, we can also express love. We can admire, comfort, and tell beautiful stories.

    We live in a world that is constantly changing. That can feel scary — not knowing what will happen to us or to the people we love. But I also see beautiful change happening. I see people who no longer accept only bad news and fearful messages from the media. I see awakened souls who speak about love, who use their words to show beauty and peace. Even when they disagree or don’t like someone, they choose kind words.

    I hear beautiful words everywhere. I read words filled with love, peace, appreciation, and joy — and because of that, I feel like I’m living in a wonderful world.

    Words flow constantly in our minds — they rest only when we sleep. So often, we call ourselves or others names like “stupid,” “lazy,” or “jealous.” But wouldn’t it be better to say beautiful things instead? Start with yourself: call yourself smart, beautiful, kind, sexy — whatever feels good. Even if you don’t believe it at first, if you keep doing it every day, it will become natural.

    Then, start saying nice things to others too. It costs nothing to compliment someone, and for them, it might be something they remember for the rest of their life. Isn’t that wonderful?

    I choose to live in a world filled with beautiful words. And because of that, I see beauty everywhere — exactly as it is. Life is wonderful. The world is beautiful. You just have to want to see it that way.

    Love brings joy, while fear brings pain..
    So be love. Show love. Express love. Use loving words when you speak. And when you feel something different — anger, fear, frustration — write it down on paper or in your phone, let it stay there, release it — punch a pillow, throw rocks into the river.

    But when you speak — spread love. Use your words with kindness.
    Because words are powerful, and that means we are powerful.

    Let’s use our power to spread love all around.

  • Solitude

    It’s not easy to understand solitude and silence when life is full of people, responsibilities, and noise. We work, we care for loved ones, we stay busy with things we think we love. And yet—whether we realize it or not—we long for quiet. Our soul longs for it. The question is: do we listen?

    I thought I was listening. But it turned out, not completely. It wasn’t until I was really alone that I understood what solitude felt like. I felt so lonely, so left out. I kept wondering: Why is this happening? Why is nobody here when I need a conversation, or simply a meal together? God, it was hard.The more I resisted that emptiness, the sadder I became.

    One day, in a moment of surrender, I asked myself: It’s just me, myself, and I—so what are you going to do about it?

    Slowly, things shifted. I started to enjoy walking alone in the park, savoring every step. I went to the beach and felt it in every sense—the sound of waves, the salt in the air, the peace of simply being there. That quiet became something I couldn’t explain in words. And in that space, my soul began to speak louder. Or maybe I simply began listening more closely. Either way—I heard.

    Memories and passions resurfaced. Promises I had once made to myself. Dreams I had quietly tucked away under the weight of expectations. All of it waiting—just waiting—for me to notice again. We spend so much of life becoming who we think we should be, while the parts of us that bring real joy gather dust. They never disappear. They wait patiently for our attention, because they know the joy they’ll bring when we finally return to them.

    Life moves at such a pace that we often lose sight of ourselves. Even with countless tools and machines meant to save us time, our lists only grow longer.

    But when a moment of silence comes, don’t be upset by it. Don’t rush to fill it. Instead, turn off the noise—your phone, the television, the constant distractions. Go within. That’s where the treasures are—waiting to be discovered again.

    What may at first feel like loneliness is not isolation. It is an invitation. An opening. It comes for a reason. Because you are worthy of living with ease, joy, and alignment. When you follow that inner voice, life unfolds more beautifully than you ever imagined.

    Yes, sometimes life feels like punishment. But it never truly is. Every experience can be turned into something meaningful—if you’re willing. So be brave. Step back if you need to. Even hide for a while. Because in that quiet, you’ll be surprised at what begins to reveal itself.

  • Purpose

    There was a time not long ago when I became somewhat obsessed with finding my purpose in life. So, I began my search. First, I asked myself: What is my purpose as a human being? I thought about my job and the university I chose. I believed that if I kept learning, I could become more useful to others.

    Then I asked myself: What is my purpose as a woman? I reflected on my roles—as a mother, a wife, a friend, a daughter. But eventually, I felt that there had to be more to life than just the roles I play. I started thinking that maybe I should do something big, something that would help a large number of people.

    Then one day, I made a simple decision: I would live the best life I possibly could, every single day. And that became my purpose.

    Each morning, I wake up and live the day as if it were my last on this planet. I stay true to myself, aligned with my values. Every day, I try to be kinder than I was yesterday, more understanding, more loving.

    Purpose doesn’t have to be tied to big dreams—you can find it in the small, everyday moments. When I drink my coffee, I feel grateful that I can taste and smell its rich aroma. When I wash the dishes, I marvel at how water flows from the faucet. When I see the ocean, I’m filled with wonder at its depth and vastness. When I laugh with my daughter until we can’t breathe and our bellies ache, I feel alive.

    Sharing a smile with a stranger, giving someone a compliment—these moments may seem small, but they are full of meaning. That, to me, is the purpose of living: to be fully present in each moment, and to see those moments as miracles.

    If everyone could truly see and hear what is happening around them, I believe we could all say we are living a purposeful life.

  • A Love Letter

    Dear Love,

    Where are you?

    I used to wonder that so often.
    Are you in my mother’s warm embrace?
    In the neighbor’s kind “Good morning”?
    Are you hidden in the soft light of a new day, or in the joyful smile of my daughter?


    Does the green grass carry you?

    Or perhaps you’re in the face of a stranger I passed in the park? 

    I searched for you everywhere.
    So many of us do—looking for love in people, in places, in fleeting moments.

    For me, life has always been about you.
    Because life without love? It felt like it lacked meaning.

    I searched for you in people first.
    And I did find you—within my family, my friends, and in the most beautiful form of all: the love I feel for my daughter.

    Then, I found you in places.
    In the lake where I grew up.
    In the city where I studied.
    In the place I now call home.

    And then, I began to find you in nature.

    In the rhythm of ocean waves.

    In the majesty of the mountains.

    In poppy-filled meadows.

    In the pear tree in my grandparents’ yard.

    I discovered you in the little things, too:
    In the taste of my mom’s brownies.

    In a squirrel’s darting across the park.

    And in countless other tiny, beautiful moments.

    But even though I saw you everywhere, something still felt incomplete.
    There was always a small ache. A sense that something essential was missing.

    Until one day, I looked into the mirror—into my own eyes—and finally saw what I’d been overlooking all along.

    You were there.
    You had been waiting.

    I had never thought to look for love within myself.
    Never paused to offer love to myself.

    And that changed everything.
    Because the most valuable love, the most healing, the most lasting—was the one I gave to me.

    So now I know:
    You are not just out there, scattered in the world.
    You are also right here, inside me.
    Always have been.
    Always will be.

    With all my heart,
    Me

  • Pain

    Pain accompanies our life from day one. We are born and we cry—I would call that emotional pain, confusion pain. We don’t know what’s going on. It seems like everyone is afraid to feel pain. Physical or emotional.

    We avoid emotional pain and end up hurting ourselves physically so that our attention shifts. Because it’s easier to deal with physical pain than emotional pain. So we drink too much, we eat too much, we take drugs, we blame others for our misery. We punch things until there’s blood on our fists. We exercise until our body gives out. We work too much, we study too much.

    Honestly, I could go on and on with ways people hurt themselves. By doing this, we are trying to escape. We’re scared to face what really hurts. And there’s a lot to face, if I’m being honest. Not everyone will do that— not in their entire life.

    Why? Because we would have to confront the truth. The truth about what happened—the things we’d rather forget. The truth about what we did. Our mistakes. The people we hurt. The lies we told. The truths we’re ashamed to admit.

    That’s a lot of responsibility. And who wants that? Who consciously chooses pain in a world where pleasure and happiness are advertised everywhere you look?

    It’s easier to have fun. It’s easier to keep ourselves busy. It’s easier to talk about others. It’s easier to see everything else—just not the pain inside.

    Some people do this their whole life. Some find the courage to look inside. And yes, it hurts. It hurts so much I can’t even describe it. A drilling tooth or broken bone is nothing compared to this pain.

    But when you start healing small pieces of your soul—of your being—it slowly dissolves. It gets better.

    I’ve faced a lot of my pain. Crawling in it. Crying for hours. Begging, “When will this end?” And I still experience it from time to time, because we can’t heal all at once. Some wounds are deeper, and we have to be ready to feel them.

    The good part? God will never give us more than we can handle. So when something comes up and the pain rises again, deep down I know—it’s time.

    That doesn’t mean I’m not angry. I am. And I ask God: Why? Every time I go through it, I have a conversation with God. I say everything—how angry I am, how unfair life feels, how He can allow this, how I’m supposed to live with all these truths I now see. I speak without a filter.

    And then, I say thank you. Because I know this pain gives me freedom. It gives me a beautiful understanding of my being, of my life. And then—I see more. I feel more.

    Because when pain leaves, it makes space for love, joy, happiness—and most importantly—gratitude.
    Gratitude that I’m here. That I can experience life on this planet. That God made me so perfectly imperfect.

    We’re taught to search for the good, for happy moments. But life is not only about joy. It’s both.
    Good and bad.
    Happy and sad.
    Success and failure.

    And in both, we find depth. We find meaning. We find ourselves.