Thanks to the dizzying speed of world events, we don’t have a scarcity of fear at the moment. In our last Turkish meeting, Yağmur Steidl, who lives in Vienna, told about her mother back in Turkey and that her first concern related to war was the future natural gas bills. “How odd,” Yağmur was saying, “when people are dying over there, she was thinking about this.” It is not at all strange. Humans do get funny when they are afraid. The confusion disables us in terms of classifying fears in the correct order. We might find ourselves holding onto frivolous things to find our balance when the ground under our feet shake — just like Freud probably did once with his trinkets.
Home is made of moments of intimacy for the homeless.
It seems absurd to remember that people in Kyiv were filling the restaurants when it was almost inevitable that Putin would attack the following morning. When afraid, the human brain plays bizarre games; it shuts down with a soothing illusion. The lukewarm motto circulates between the neural ways; No, it wouldn’t happen. But then, when your wine glass holding hand suddenly begins to practice how to work a machine gun, one cannot find time to stop to think how crazy it all is. Like a wound-up toy, you disassociate and begin to do the things you are supposed to do. When the unbearably high noise of war takes over, thinking becomes almost impossible anyway.
When afraid, the human brain plays bizarre games; it shuts down with a soothing illusion.
I feel like the worst killjoy when I say that such conditions are no longer limited to war zones. But, unfortunately, life is such now all over the planet. Ours is the age of uncertainty, and now we must find new ways to live with our cluster of fears — unless, of course, you are rich enough to build an impregnable castle for yourself.
Tell me, how are you managing your fears? What is your new fear that wasn’t there ten years ago?
Next week, I will write to you from Hamburg, from my new home. Let’s see how many new fears I’ll have by then. Ha!