TO MY DEAR MOM

Dear readers of Varoluş Magazine, I don’t know if I’ll ever give this letter to my mother, but I am determined to write the summary of my entire relationship with her. After all, as someone who sees her mother almost every day, I am frequently exposed to a lot of motherly love—and a lot of motherly attention. :)

Dear Mom,As I write these lines to you, I can’t help but smile. Because, apparently, your sole mission in the universe isn’t just to love me. :)

As my mother, you’ve greatly contributed to my mental, emotional, and spiritual development. Especially since we were born in the same month, I’m sure that has something to do with how similar our characters are. 😊

In the early years of my childhood, being one of your students in kindergarten created a special personal bond between us. I started school with kids who were three years older than me, and I don’t remember exactly how I felt when you transitioned from the “mom” role to the “teacher mom” role when I was just four... But I did have plenty of toys and plenty of friends. Over time, though, I might have switched the roles of love and respect.

"You always carried a great sense of responsibility for the children you taught at school. You tried your best to raise them well. For the children temporarily entrusted to you by their mothers, you gave your all to prepare them for first grade. You tried to teach them the discipline that working mothers couldn’t or didn’t have the chance to instill—always with love. Even today, when you see a child around kindergarten age, I can immediately notice you shifting from the role of a mother to that of a teacher. You could have loved those children like anyone else would... but you chose to educate them with love as well."

As for the matter of love—between my mother and me, this eventually turned into a tangled ball of complexity. Life did its best to help us unravel it. To show us what love is not, it presented us with all the forbidden examples mentioned in religions and philosophies. And when we didn’t understand—it repeated them.

Throughout high school, university, and my master’s studies, my mother and I were separated for many years. Despite this, she could always find me exactly where she had left me, as if by instinct. To put it more clearly, since we are alike at a foundational level, she could foresee where I might make a mistake or in which area I could succeed. Additionally, my mother’s ability to constantly observe people and stay present in the moment is one of the advantages her profession has brought her.

Years later, when I was confronted with the downsides of engineering—such as not being able to stay in the moment and missing out on life—our paths diverged for a while. I turned to books to try and understand why I was feeling that way, trying to make sense of myself. I clearly remember typing into the YouTube search bar: “Why can’t I think of anything positive?” That moment was a turning point for me.

In 2018, I was introduced to Reiki and my teacher, İsmail Bülbül. When I explored the books in his library, I felt I was in the right place. When I shared my troubles, he recommended subconscious coding therapy. After those sessions, I was attuned to Reiki Level 1. My teacher İsmail said to me, “Aydın, up until now, you’ve been existing in a negative state. Do your assignments, and in time, you will transition into a positive state.”And just as he said, that’s exactly what happened. Through meditation practices and symbol work, I began to notice how the mind functions. I started to grasp the meaning of phrases like “Change yourself, and your world changes.”As I became aware of the archetypes in my subconscious that were blocking my progress, my inner journey deepened.

During this time, my mother often said, “Son, how are we supposed to love everyone? That’s not realistic.” I would try to explain how I felt using examples from the books I read. As I advanced in Reiki and read more, I also began to question and critique my mother’s behaviors. I’d ask her why she watched the news for hours, and she’d ask why I never watched it at all. I’d try to explain my reasons, saying, “Isn’t there anything good happening in the world?” Yet, I still couldn’t change her.

And so, as the days went by and my awareness increased, I observed both my strengths and the areas I needed to improve. I reevaluated my life with amazement at how I had come this far.

I was diving deeper into concepts like forgiveness and self-love, and working to transform habits that no longer served me. Life was trying to teach me what unconditional love truly meant. And one day, I received a profound lesson about accepting everything as it is, in a vast space of stillness.

After that lesson, I began to recognize the things I could change. And my insights about the things I couldn’t change grew deeper. My expectations transformed into acceptance; my resistance turned into understanding, tolerance, and love. Everything began to flow just as it was meant to.

During the years I was apart from my family, my renewed perspective brought my mother and me back together. We no longer argued as much. If I had something to say, I said it—without insisting. We even watched the news together. She wouldn’t watch for too long, and afterward we’d enjoy home makeover shows that we both liked, commenting on the colors, laughing together about the ever-changing characters.

So that she could better understand, I stopped saying “love everyone” and started saying, “don’t let hatred grow in your heart toward anything.” It made more sense that way. If something was unresolved, I would talk it through, not letting it go until we figured it out—until the tension between us dissipated. I had finally let go of assumptions.

Yes, dear Varoluş readers... This is the story of my mother and me. But the story isn’t over—life goes on. There’s still so much left to live. My grandmother and grandfather lived until the age of 90, and I wish my mother a long and healthy life as well.

I hope we’ll have the chance to make our shared dreams come true. And I hope we can continue to pass on what life teaches us to one another, and find the opportunity to discover even more.

Aydın Yakupoğlu